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#timothee chalamet fic
lixzey · 5 months
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forever yours.
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one two
Timothée Chalamet, cheating on Kylie Jenner? The Wonka actor was spotted kissing an unknown woman in Los Angeles!
You stared at the article on your phone, your hands shaking. You knew you shouldn't think about it; after all, you and Timothée have been dating for four years, and he loves you—only you. But nobody knew that, though. He was a world-famous actor, and you were someone who just so happened to have his heart. You two had decided to keep the relationship low-key and private, away from the chaotic world of Hollywood. Nobody outside of both of your families and friends knew who you were or what you looked like.
You sighed, plopping down on the bed in your boyfriend's apartment. You have been living with him for the last two years, and you loved every bit of it. Timothée was the sweetest boyfriend; he loved to spoil you. He gives you everything that you deserve and more—his words, not yours. You couldn't ask for anything more; you were happily content with the love of your life.
But you still can't brush off the fact that in this story, you were the bad guy. 
It all started in December 2022, when Timothée was forced to date Kylie Jenner. His management thought that it would be beneficial for him, seeing that Kylie was Forbes' youngest self-made billionaire and had tons of fans, maybe more than Timothée had. At first, your boyfriend was reluctant. He didn't want to date anyone else other than you. You two argued, but in the end, you convinced him that it would be good for his career. 
Timothée signed the contract, and he was obligated to date the youngest daughter of Kris Jenner. 
It started with little appearances like Kylie showing up at your home, and you had to leave or hide because there were paparazzis all over the perimeter of your house. Your boyfriend was absolutely apologetic that you had to pretend that you were not his, and it broke his heart to see you smile from the sidelines. 
You assured him that everything's alright. You were okay with everything, as long as, at the end of the day, he came back home to you. 
Some Timothée's fans were hopelessly praying that it was all some sort of PR stunt—which it actually was, but you signed a non-disclosure agreement. You had no choice but to keep it to yourself. Their 'relationship' went on and on, giving the people the benefit of the doubt. 
Until early September, when the PR team decided that it was time to make it public.
You were a little bit heartbroken when you saw it on social media. It was at Beyoncé's birthday concert, a celebrity-studded event, which made it the perfect opportunity to show off their relationship. The way Kylie Jenner had her hands all over your man made your blood boil. Timothée looked uncomfortable, but he didn't have any other choice. You wanted to go and just punch that plastic woman for having her claws all over your boyfriend, but you couldn't do anything. You hated it, but you couldn't bring yourself to admit it. Because if you did, Timothée would drop it before you could even say no. 
The way your boyfriend has his arms wrapped around that plastic bitch made you want to slap her and tear off all the plastic she had in her fake body. The way she kissed your man made you want to feed her to the sharks in the Atlantic Ocean. The way your boyfriend had his hand over her ass made you want to go and make a deal with the devil to rid the world of that woman, and maybe chop off your boyfriend's hands while you're at it. But again, you couldn't do a thing. You were left to watch while another woman pawed at your man. 
Timothée did everything to make it up to you. He would always assure you that it was all for show and nothing more. He loved you, only you, and he would never dream of hurting you. You knew that, of course, but you can't help getting annoyed by it—you won't tell him that though, because you couldn't. 
But now you were a homewrecker, a slut. 
Apparently, someone saw you and your boyfriend kissing. It was your fourth anniversary. Timothée had brought you to your favorite restaurant in Los Angeles and was enjoying the night, celebrating four years of love. After a bit of wine, he kissed you, like he always did—momentarily forgetting his 'girlfriend'. 
The next day, the photo of you and your boyfriend kissing was all over the internet. People were calling you a homewrecker, a slut, a whore, and more. You practically had death threats filling up semi-trucks. People were telling you who you are, and you didn't have a choice, all because you loved Timothée. 
All of this for what? Celebrating four years with the man you love? 
You buried your face in your hands, trying to muffle your sobs. You felt like the whole world was against you, like you were the villain in some twisted fairytale. What did you do to even deserve any of this? You just wanted to be with your man, but the world had other plans. 
“Mon amour? Are you here?” A voice echoed from downstairs. You wiped away the tears from your eyes, putting on another fake smile as you walked down. 
“Hey, love. Are you hungry?” You asked, voice breaking. Timothée looked at you, and you knew he knew something was wrong. You mentally kicked yourself for being so utterly stupid.
“What's wrong, mon amour?” Timothée asked, stepping forward and wrapping you in his arms. 
“Nothing, it's alright.” You lied. You were getting pretty good at lying, not that you were proud of it. 
Timothée sighed, his arms wrapping you tighter against his body. “Y/n, please, baby. I know something's wrong; you've been crying.” You could hear his heartbeat, the loud thumping in his chest calming you. You sighed loudly, burying your face into his chest, the smell of his cologne invading your nostrils. You pulled away abruptly, and the look of confusion on his face made your heart wrench inside your chest.
“I'm okay, don't worry.” 
Timothée cupped your face in his hands, your eyes meeting his. “Y/n, please, mon amour. Just tell me, I just want to help.” 
You took a deep breath. It was now or never. “Have you seen the tabloids?”
Timothée sighed, knowing it was about his fake relationship again. “Can you tell me what it is, baby? I'm sorry I haven't checked out the news.”
“It's just....it's silly, honestly.”
“It's not silly if it's bothering you, my love.” 
“Someone saw us kissing yesterday, and it's all over the tabloids.” you mumbled, your eyes glued to the floor. 
“Oh, baby,” Timothée whispered. “I'm so sorry; I dragged you into this. It's all my fault.” he muttered.
Your heart broke when he said it was his fault. It wasn't; it was the people who were quick to judge. “It isn't your fault, Tim.” 
“It is, baby. I shouldn't have agreed to that PR stunt. I should've just turned it down and spent all of my time with you instead-” You cut him off with your lips crashing with his. His arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer to him as he deepened the kiss. You felt all of your worries evaporate into thin air, and all that mattered was him. The man you have spent four years with, the man you see a future with. 
You pulled away, making him growl as the feeling of your lips left his. You chuckled, kissing him on the cheek. “I love you.”
“I love you more, baby. But….” 
Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “But what, baby?” You asked worriedly. 
“Can I see what the article says? And anything else related to it?” 
Your eyes widened slightly. It was one thing for you to read all of those horrid things people have written about you, but Timothée? He would break at the words people have said about you, and you couldn't live with him thinking his fans were horrible to the woman he loves. 
“Baby….” 
“Please, mon amour? You don't deserve to get all the hate.”
You playfully raised an eyebrow, trying to diffuse the tension. “Who said I was getting hate?” 
Timothée chuckled. “I know Hollywood.”
You let out a deep sigh as you rubbed your temples. “It's horrible, mon amour.” 
“I don't care; I still love you no matter what.” 
“You really want to read it?”
“Yes, I do.” 
You opened your phone and showed him one of the videos on TikTok about the articles. 
timmyfan1: omg timmy cheated on kylie with her? yuck, homewrecker. 
kyliestan_: such a slut, going after someone else's boyfriend.
timotheestan: die bitch
– timobaby: yeah, go die in a ditch you slut. 
– kyjennerbaby: not timothée's fans wanting the girl to die 😭
timotheechalamalabingbong: not timothée throwing away his relationship and career for this girl 😭 
kyliebaby: poor kylie, got her heart broken by this douchebag
jennersisters: anyone want to help me find that girl and slap the shit outta her?
– user1: count me in! 
– user2: me too! i'm gonna drag that little bitch down 
“I'm so sorry, mon amour,” Timothée whispered as he turned the phone off. “You don't deserve any of this.” 
You smiled sadly at him. “I know, but this is nothing.”
“No, it's not nothing. They want you to die, and that's not okay…” 
“I don't have any plans on dying, Timmy.” You chuckled. 
"But…but...”
"No buts. I know it hurts, but we have to live with it. I have to live with it. You'll just have to focus on your career, okay?” 
Timothée sighed in defeat. “You're the most precious person in this world; you don't deserve this.”
“And you know it.” You smiled, grabbing his hand in yours. “I don't care about their words anymore, as long as I have you.”
“I don't deserve you.” 
“You do; you deserve me and more.” You chuckled, kissing his knuckles. “I love you, no matter what.”
“I love you, Y/n, I love you so fucking much.” Timothée planted a soft kiss on your lips before pulling you again to his chest. “I'm yours, forever yours.”
You sighed contentedly, melting at his touch, feeling comfort and love in your boyfriend's arms. The only thing that mattered in that moment was you and him; no one could ever take away your happiness. 
Your boyfriend, your Timothée, yours. 
@helens3amstuff @gatoenlaciudad @thebetawolfgirl @lovemelikecrazyiloveyoucrazy @tchalamss @tchalamss @ashlynnmalfoy @crazycat-ladys-blog @michakune @mxltifxnd0m @spencerr3idd @dangelnleif @sthkate @ferrjulie @imnotoverlyobsessive @mel-vaz @elsagreeer @lovely-maryj @meowmeowmau @bobthe-turmpetman29 @saintcosette
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bonesandchalamet · 9 months
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slumber party - t.chalamet
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masterlist
requested: y - “Hii, could you make one about Timothée and reader having a toddler,and just pure fluff please 🫶🏻”
pairings: dad!timothee chalamet x mom!reader
warnings: fluff + child has been given a name + established relationship
a/n: this is short I’m sorry love!
silence never fills the walls of your New York apartment anymore— at least not since aurora, your daughter, was born.
her presence has been a blessing, there’s no doubt to that, but when the silence exists it’s deafening. which is why you’re concerned at six am when the pitter-patter of little feet against the hardwood floor is nonexistent. she’s only four, you think to yourself, there’s no way she’s learned to sleep in yet.
Timothee, your husband, is dead asleep beside you. he couldn’t of heard a tornado hit with the way he sleeps, and you don’t blame him. work and production of the upcoming films he was in were beginning to start, and sleep was lacking with not only a toddler, but work.
so yes, he had his reasons to sleep in, but aurora didn’t.
you heave out a worried sigh, throwing the blankets off your body, exposing you to the cool air of the room. you slip on your slippers and trudge down the hall towards her bedroom. the homemade sign of her name Timothee made hangs loose on the door, the stickers her and Pauline stuck to the wood were fading, but stuck like glue. you push open the door carefully, to see her blinds are pushed open already, and she’s dressed herself.
“aurora,” your groggy voice jolts her head from the book in her lap, it’s timothees copy of dune that she stole because it reminder her of him. he spent months in the desert thinking of you two, and she spent months pretending the fat book in her lap was readable.
“mommy, is daddy awake?” she slips off the bed, book falling open onto the ground, she brushes past you headed straight for your bedroom door that’s closed. she doesn’t give you a second to reply, the man in the cozy bedroom is all she cares about and you don’t blame her. his presence was absent due to filming, any chance she got cozying up with him was a win in her book
you don’t have in your heart to warn her that he’s sleep. she’s already pushed open the door and by the time you slip into the dark room, she’s made herself comfortable in his arms. he’s barely awake, but when he felt her finger poke his chest, he unconsciously lifted his arms up.
you slip back under the sheets, turning in bed to look at the two. their mouths part the same way, their strains of curly brown hair fall over their faces in the exact same way.
you watch his eyes flutter open for a brief minute, he takes a look down at her, and then at you. your eyes are shut once again, forehead touching auroras, the two of you are sound asleep, and he doesn’t hesitate to sink further into the mattress and let sleep wash over him.
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lola-la-cava · 10 months
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Met ‘23
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Timothée Chalamet x Reader
_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐
“Y-yeah, don’t even worry about it. Who needs air?. Just… keep going” I say as they continue to tighten the corset. I grip my waist, sucking up as much air as I can.
All of a sudden, I hear a familiar voice tsk. The women helping me with my dress backs up, causing the piece of clothing to loosen.
“Did she put you up to this?”, he asked the woman. She nodded.
“Traitor!”
He laughs at my quip and comes up to kiss my cheek. “You look beautiful”
Timothée looks me up and down, examining the dress and taking my hand to twirl me. “You don’t look half bad yourself.” I giggle.
The curly haired boy gasped, “Half bad? Come on! Give me a little more credit!”
“Ah fine! You look gorgeous!” I praise, getting my body close to his to pull him in for a needed kiss.
“Ah, ah, ah. I’m not done yet! Couldn’t keep your hands to yourself, huh, lover boy?” my make-up artist comes to pull us apart and retouching my lipstick.
“How could I?” he stared at me with a love sick stare that I didn’t quite notice at the time.
Timothée hears a quick snap!from the camera. He whips his head around to see one of the photographers catch the perfect moment.
“Whoops” the guy shrugged.
“You people are sickening!” my assistant screamed from the other side of the room.
Timothée answers back, “Jealous much, Meg?”
“Ha. ha.” she teased. “I happen to enjoy being all alone, thank you very much”
I playfully roll my eyes at her antics. “Yeah, sureee”
“Aaalright, Y/N you’re set!” She pats my cheek as I look at her with grateful eyes.
Timothée’s arms wrap around my front once again as soon as she let go. His head resting on my shoulder, kissing my neck
“I just hope lover boy here doesn’t ruin your make-up”
“No promises” he giggles as he playfully placed wet kisses on the side of my head.
“I swear, you will never hear the end from me if you do” she warns him.
“Now, get on out there. Tons of people are expecting you”
_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐
Ah, the calm before the storm.
Well, as calm as it can get. Which was not very.
They stood in the line before getting their pictures taken. Celebrities in extravagant clothing surrounded them. Some familiar faces present that Y/N took note to say hello to later on.
Y/N smoothed over her dress and brought her hand up to fix her hair again. Timothée noticing this, he interrupted her movement and took her hand. He squeezed it three times before kissing it.
I love you.
She took her hand back and grabbed her phone from a discreet pocket on the dress.
She scrolled aimlessly through social media, trying to get feeling of impending doom of my mind.
Her eye catches a random headline from an entertainment news update account. It read:
‘Timothée Chalamet and Kylie Jenner hard launching their relationship at tonight’s Met Gala? Y/N Y/L/N left in the dust?’
She lets out an obnoxious scoff. Timmy hearing it, he looks at her screen, reading the obviously made-up headline.
“God, they’re still on that?”
He notices his partner’s silence. “Come on. You’re not really bothered by this, are you?”
She opened her mouth to say something. No words came out. She merely shrugged.
He gripped her shoulders and pulled her in for a bear hug. Timothée rested his head on hers as she got close to his chest, hearing the comforting beat of his heart that never failed to comfort her.
The couple stayed like that. “Trust me, mon coeur. I wouldn’t have this any other way. I’m perfect where I am and who I’m with”
“Shit, I actually might cry. I never know what to say when you say this sappy shit”, Y/N chuckles as she puts her hand up to mess with his styled hair.
Feeling her hand creeping his back, Timmy pulls away and bows. “I aim to please you. It’s my sole purpose in life”
A smile instantly appeared on her face and butterflies in her stomach. Nothing had definitely changed from when they first started going out. Same sparks, same chemistry, same tension. Whatever you wanna call it. It was there. They had it.
She tugged on his hand, pulling him in for one more kiss. Y/N looked at him, looking over the features she admired so much that she practically memorized them. Her gaze lands on his lips.
Some of her lipstick and gloss had transferred to his lips. She quickly tried to get the makeup off. “Shit, wait hold on. You have some-“
He smacks her hand away. “No, no. Keep it.” He rubbed his lips together getting the substance to cover all ground.
“Y/N Y/L/N and Timothée Chalamet? They’re ready for you.”
_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐
“Right now, I’m here with everyone’s favourite couple, Timothée Chalamet and Y/N Y/L/N” Emma, the interviewer, spoke with enthusiasm.
We’d just finished the carpet and were almost home free. Camera flashes blinded my vision as I tried not to close my eyes throughout the whole thing. Screams of my name were heard throughout the venue. Meddlesome questions and controlling demands to pose a certain way were yelled. To which, I didn’t respond to. Why should I? I maintained my balance by holding onto Timothée. You’d think after a few years, you’d get used to the bordering aggressive personalities you have to deal with every single day.
It turns out not really.
“How does it feel to be back? I mean, you guys have gone before, but how does it feel to be here as the quote-unquote, it couple?”
Me and Timmy both give awkward chuckles as we heard the last two words.
“Uh- I really don’t know about that last part, but it just feels great to share such a meaningful moment with him. I’ve personally dreamed of attending since I first saw it as a kid and to be invited for the second time… It’s just… yea”, I answer, not being able to expound on the statement.
Emma hums and gains back the mic.
“So, rumors have been swirling about the internet that actually said othewise. Do you have anything to say about that?” She points the microphone at Timothée this time, definitely hinting at the Kylie rumors.
He seems taken aback by the question, not knowing what to say and the only thing I’m able to do was squeeze his hand. Three times.
I love you.
Emma realizes this with a regretful look on her face. She leans toward both of us as she moves the mic away.
“It’s totally fine if you guys aren’t comfortable. We could just mov-“
He takes the mic, she gives him a grateful small smile.
“No, I uh, me and Y/N have actually seen a handful of tweets about this and I just wanna set the record straight and say we are very much still together”, he nods as he hands the microphone back to her.
“I think I’m right by saying that this has definitely relieved viewrs at home and me.” We laugh genuinely at her quip.
I imagine people on Twitter have stopped adding fuel to the fire after what he said and can have a better goodnight’s sleep later in the evening.
“And that’s our time. I’ll see you lovebirds inside! Have a great time together!”
We both shook her hand and left with an indebted expression for keeping it mellow (for the most part) after such a nerve-wracking red carpet.
“Very professional with that answer, Chalamet”, I hook my arms with his and leaned on his shoulder.
“Of course, ‘gotta remind everyone you’re still my girl”, he says with a smug smirk.
I laugh, “Your girl? I suppose that means you’re my boy?”
He playfully rolls his eyes. “Come on! As if you didn’t know that from the beginning”
“Ohhh, I know. I just wanted to hear it from your mouth!”
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why-say · 1 year
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Timothée x reader imagine
Warnings: smut, college smut, self-insert, public sex, friends with benefits, slight weight mention (it’s not specific but it’s mentioned), this one may be more plot that smut, stranger x you x Timothée
word count: 1.8k
This is arguably the best thing i’ve ever written.
I started an etsy account selling phone cases so check that out maybe :)
✿ஜீ۞ஜீ✿•.¸¸.•*`*•.•ஜீ☼۞☼ஜீ•.•*`*•.¸¸.•✿ஜீ۞ஜீ✿
You got to class late. That wasn’t usually you, but everyone has bad mornings and today was yours. You entered your class from the back of the classroom and saw all of the seats at the front full. You had no choice but to take one near the back, a few seats over from the last person you wanted to sit next too.
“Hello.” You say curtly. He replies back but with a smile and you find that odd. You and Timothée had an agreement. You wouldn’t interact outside of your late-night booty calls. It had worked to keep things less messy like you both wanted.
You try to ignore the interaction and focus on the lesson, but you can’t see the front or the professor at all, there were too many heads in the way. You raise your hand to let him know and ask for a seat at the front but before you can get his attention, Timothee pulls your hand down.
“Just sit on my lap. You’ll be able to see better, I don’t mind.” He says, he’s already looking away like he’s so sure you will.
“Absolutely not! What? That’s so inappropriate, I’ll just…” Your voice trailed off.
You’ll just what? You were busy for the rest of the week so you couldn’t take notes later and the professor didn’t look like he would stop talking anytime soon. Would it really be that bad? It’s innocent right? It’s not like he would start fucking you in class.
“You’ll just what?” Timothée teases? A knowing smile ghosting over his face already.
“Shut up. It’s just so I can see, you know the rules.”
You move and now you are perched lightly on Timothée's lap. No one in the class even turned to look at you. You were sitting near his knees, trying to keep all your weight off of him and keep listening to your professor who was now fiddling with his computer while still talking.
You didn’t see how Timothée could take notes like this, but he didn’t seem to mind and neither did you.
Before you could start writing you felt Timothée move his hand around your waist. He pulled you further into his lap, so your back was flush with his front. You turned your head to meet his eyes. Timothée was a tall man but in this position, you were looking down to see him. You liked it.
“What are you doing?” You ask.
“Making you and myself comfortable, now continue writing.” He replies, he faces the professor though you can see his mischievousness peeking through.
You could never understand him, but you turned back to continue your work. You feel relaxed. Usually in class you were speed writing, and your brain was going a million miles a minute but today you felt relaxed while still writing. You didn’t understand why. Surely it couldn’t be Timothée? His presence couldn’t be the thing making you feel different. You took a moment to think and that’s when you noticed his arm never left your waist. He was making circles on the side of your body, softly stroking. You turned to face him, and he looked so calm you didn’t even think he noticed what he was doing.
His eyes turned to look at you and you cut your gaze away quickly. You weren’t going to let him distract you outside of your arrangement.
“Shhh, just relax and enjoy it. mkay?” Timothée suddenly whispered. What?
You didn’t understand what he was talking about. It wasn’t until you felt his other hand at your knee make its way up, his other hand still holding your waist.
His hand met the bottom of your skirt, and he kept going, slipping under the skirt. Your body felt hot. You shifted so you were now crossing your legs. His hand was trapped between your thighs, cutting off his movement. You didn’t know the kind of reaction he would give but you were happy to put a stop to whatever he was doing. Or were you? Your breathing was heavier, and your body was still hot.
But it was so inappropriate.
You heard him laugh quietly in your ear. He moved his hands, and you uncrossed your legs. You thought that was that.
The teacher kept talking though you weren’t listening anymore. You couldn’t pay attention to anything with your thoughts ruminating. What was Timothée doing? Why wasn’t he keeping to the arrangement? Did he want you outside of the late-night booty calls?
The light to the classroom goes off and your pulled from your thoughts. You look around and no one is freaking out, so you assume the professor is putting on a film. Your thoughts are correct as an old black and white movie appears. You can’t see anything but the screen except the heads of the people in front of you, but you can’t make out who they are.
“Relax, He put on an old film because we had time left and he finished talking.” Timothée says, still whispering but even lower because it’s so silent. People are still talking to their friends but they’ were trying to keep it lower than the movie which is pretty quiet.
“Okay.” Is all you can think of to say. You're ready to get back into your deep thoughts when you feel Timothée's hands return to where they belong. Where they belong? You couldn’t believe you just said that. Or thought that?
He placed his hands on each of your thighs and moved your legs to the outside of his. His own legs keeping your spread wide open. You couldn’t bring yourself to say anything because in reality you really really needed him. It was all you could think about right now and if he didn’t finish what he started you were going to pop.
With his knees keeping you spread bare his hands made work of you. He slipped his fingers past your underwear, feeling the wetness already there. His fingers lightly pressing into you then back out, shallowly thrusting.
The class was so silent you knew you couldn’t make any noise, but your mouth let out an involuntary moan. No body turned around, so you hope no one heard you.
“I’m not plugging your mouth baby it’s all up to you to keep quiet. Or don’t.” Timothée murmurs.
His words don’t require a reply, but you nod your head anyways, already lost in pleasure.
Sex with him always felt good but it was something about the public humiliation that could happen at any moment that made you feel this all so much more.
His finger continued to work into you, almost prepping you but you couldn’t figure out what for. He flicked your clit unexpectedly and you let out a sharp cry. It wasn’t so loud, but you heard some shuffling a few rows down and to the side. Timothée didn’t stop his assault on your body while you glanced around the classroom. No one was looking but honestly you didn’t care.
You grounded your hips further down trying to feel him deeper, and as if reading your body Timothée moved his hand so two fingers were deep inside your cunt and the heel of his hand was rubbing your clit. His fingers were twisting and pumping into you in ways that made you hold your breath to keep your moans in. You tried to close your legs as a reflex but his own just spread you wider.
The classroom felt like an inferno, and you were ready to cum. Timothée removed his hand from your cunt unexpectedly. You let out an involuntary whine in response.
Timothée moved your further down his now closed thighs, towards his knees. You didn’t understand why? Was he not letting you cum? Had somebody been watching.
You searched around the classroom and to your complete and utter dismay somebody had their eyes on yours. You couldn’t see exactly who it was, but they were standing near the door at the back of the classroom. You knew from what you could see it was a man and his arm was moving weirdly. Before you could try figure out who it was or what he was doing, you felt hands move you again. Too dazed to struggle you didn’t know what was going on until you felt your exposed and dripping pussy meet the head of Timothée's cock.
You felt him slowly pull you down his shaft. Your cunt accommodating for his size and length with an uncomfortable stretch. It was always a struggle trying to fit Timothée inside you, that was why you always prepped yourself with your favourite toys before you saw him. The lack of preparation allowed a strained cry to slip through your lips. You couldn’t think to care who had heard that, but you opened your eyes anyways when you heard a distant grunt. The man at the back of the classroom had your attention and apparently, he had Timothees too. But he wasn’t stopping.
If anything, the attention from the strange man had made Timothee work harder to thrust into you. Because of how wet you were he couldn’t be fast because people would hear, but that didn’t stop him fucking you hard. It felt like he was fucking your breath away with every thrust and you were delirious. Your sensations were limited to just this feeling, the fullness of your cunt, the heat inside your body and the ache at the bottom of your belly.
You could hear Timothée's soft moans and groans in your ear and that was what set you off. Timothée followed behind you quickly after his thrusts turned harder. You felt his warm cum hit your insides and you let out a sigh of content. You wished you could've swallowed his cum instead, but this would do.
Timothée was still panting in your ear, and it wasn’t until you felt something warm and wet hit the side of your face and hair that you remembered the stranger. Both you and Timothée turned back to look at him. He was there, you could see his chest moving up and down rapidly. Timothées hand moved to the liquid on your face. He gathered some on his fingers and placed it in his mouth. He smirked and you didn’t know why until he did the same to you. It was cum.
Moaning at the taste of the strangers cum on Timothees fingers. You looked back up to the stranger and saw him wave before leaving.
These the weirdest lesson you’ve ever day. And you kind of hoped to have it again. You didn't know how you were going to leave the classroom without people knowing what happened, but you didn't care right now.
~~~
Y’all tell me if you liked the longer fic? the plot? idk i need feedback!!
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houseofchalamet · 1 year
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Biggest Fan
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Pairing: Timothee Chalamet x f!Reader Summary: Reader has been absolutely filthy in the DMs and when she meets Timothée unexpectedly, he wants her to make good on her promises. Warnings: Smut (oral - male receiving), sexualizing a celebrity, technically a power imbalance, curse words. Word count: 2k
There was no way he’d ever see your DMs. He probably got thousands of messages a day; yours would get lost in a sea of countless others. And he was rarely ever on Twitter…
Still, you’d occasionally send some DMs anyway, just for the hell of it. It started tame. Telling him how much you loved his work, how excited you were for the next Dune movie… Small things like that. 
And then the thirst started.
It was all because of the Oscars… The damn Oscars. God, he looked so good. You felt like you were going to explode the second the shirtless image of him appeared on your TV screen. In the heat of the moment, you whipped out your phone and began typing every lewd thought that popped into your head.
Everything about him was perfect, from his hair down to the smallest details, like the rings on his fingers. You drank in every image you could find of his bare chest. Before you knew it, you were composing the nastiest paragraph you’d ever written in your life (up until that point, at least) and hitting send without a second thought.
God, it’s almost unfair how perfect you are. You’re so fucking sexy in your sparkly little jacket. I wanna taste every inch of you. I want you to fuck my mouth and make me gag on your cock. I want your cum running down my throat. I want you to fuck me so hard and fast that all I know is your name. I want you to absolutely obliterate me. I wanna be your personal fuckdoll… I’m fucking dripping just thinking about it. I need you inside me so fucking bad. I’m such a needy slut for you.
That was just the first one, and as time went on, they grew more graphic. It became an outlet, a way to get all of this sexual energy out. Your messages ranged from short, innocent sentences to long, erotic paragraphs detailing all of the depraved things you wanted him to do to you.
But he’d never see it.
Right?
***
The club was full of drunk, sweaty bodies. You were perfectly content to stand in the corner all night with your best friend, Jess, and sway to the music, feeling the bass vibrate through the floor.
“Hey, isn’t he that guy you’re so obsessed with?” Jess asked, pointing discreetly to a group of guys in the corner.
Your jaw dropped as you realized you were standing in the presence of the Timothée Chalamet. He was with a group of friends and appeared to be having a good time. Your heart began to race in your chest.
“Come on,” Jess said, taking in your stunned appearance. She tugged your hand, starting to lead you in his direction, but you pulled back.
“Are you fucking insane? I can’t just walk right up to him, I’ll literally drop dead on the spot.”
“Okay, fine, don’t talk to him.” She held back a laugh at your outburst. “But you know if you don’t at least stand in the same general vicinity as him, you’ll hate yourself forever.” 
Damn. You hated when she was right.
You both weaved through the crowd, strategically placing yourselves closer and closer every few moments without making it too obvious. 
You fought the urge to keep glancing at him, though all you wanted to do was drink in his appearance. You weren’t sure you’d ever get the chance to see him in person again. 
Jess was talking about something Britney had said to her earlier - you weren’t really paying too much attention - when you tried to steal a glance at exactly the wrong moment.
His eyes met yours. 
And instead of looking away and pretending nothing had happened like a normal person would in this circumstance, you froze. Your eyes widened, giving you a slight deer-in-the-headlights expression. He broke into that adorable, lopsided smile you loved so much.
Then, to your surprise, he started moving toward you.
“Oh fuck, oh fuck,” you whispered to Jess.
“Wha-”
“Hey, I’m Timothée,” he said. Jess’s eyes widened, too, as she processed the situation. Holy fuck he was so close, you could smell him now. And he smelled good.
“I… I know,” you replied stupidly, the awe evident in your voice.
“I’m Jess, and this is (Y/N),” she stepped in for you. “It’s so nice to meet you.”
“You too,” he smiled. His eyes flicked back to you. His brow furrowed and his head tilted to one side as he took you in, but after a few seconds, he shook his head. “Sorry, have we met before?”
“Umm…” You pretended to think for a second, even though you’d definitely remember if you’d met this literal god before. “Nope, I don’t think so.”
“Hm… Weird. I thought I recognized you from somewhere.”
You shrugged this off; he’d probably met so many fans in so many countries, there was bound to be at least one other girl somewhere who somewhat resembled you.
He was extremely nice and offered to take photos with you. He hung around to chat for a few minutes before excusing himself back to his friends. Besides your general awkwardness - which he was probably used to, judging by the way he easily brushed it off - the interaction couldn’t have gone any better.
“He’s literally my future husband,” you told Jess dreamily as you both watched him walk away.
“Not if I marry him first,” she joked.
“Hey! At least share!” You pouted.
She jokingly stuck her tongue out at you, and then her eyes scanned the room. “Well, if my marriage to Timmy doesn’t pan out, I think I just found his replacement. Mind if I go dance?”
“Nah, go right ahead,” you replied. You leaned against a wall, focusing on your phone. You posted your photo with Timmy to Instagram, and then popped onto Twitter to make the photo your profile pic. Your moots were about to go feral. For a moment, your thumb hovered over the messages icon. 
Ah, why not?
Hot sweatpants, cutie. I’ll make you sweat and pant;)
You chuckled a little to yourself. God, that was a cringey one. Still, it was just for your entertainment, so why not?
You continued scrolling through Twitter, enjoying your fifteen minutes of fame as you were bombarded by a million questions, each more unhinged than the last (‘What did he smell like?’ ‘Who was he with?’ ‘Did you lick his hand? I would’ve licked his hand’ etc). You were in the middle of replying to someone when you heard a voice beside you.
“I know where I recognized you from!”
Your eyes met his green ones and your breath caught in your throat. You weren’t expecting any more attention from Timothée, but obviously welcomed it.
“Where’s that?” you asked, trying to be nonchalant. He pulled up his phone and showed you the screen.
Your eyes widened and your mouth dropped open. You were horrified as you took in Timothée’s view of your DM’s. He must have turned his read receipts off. He didn’t seem to notice your embarrassment as he scrolled up in the conversation a little.
“This is one of my favorites, ‘My ass is grass and I want you to mow it.’ Or that time you just sent the link to Deep Throat by Cupcakke.”
“Oh, god,” you said, putting your head in your hands. You couldn’t even deny that it was you; the profile picture gave you away. You wanted to spontaneously combust. “I didn’t think you’d actually see that.”
“I could tell…” he chuckled. Thankfully, he scrolled past your more… needy messages and focused on the ironic ones. “‘I would let you break my back in half, spit in my mouth, dislocate my jaw, pee on me, rip out my intestines, and then hit me with your car and I’d still be your biggest fan.’”
“Ugh, God,” you groaned. 
He smirked at you and you swore his eyes flicked down to your lips for a split second. When he spoke again, the joking tone had disappeared. “You think you’re my biggest fan?”
Your mouth opened but no words came out. You drew in a sharp breath. “I- uh… y-yeah.”
His voice dropped dangerously low; you were sure no one else could hear. “Would you be willing to prove it?”
His words swam around in your head and you struggled to make sense of them. Surely, you had misunderstood… You blinked, watching as his tongue swiped over his lips. 
“Absolutely.”
Before you could even process what was happening, he had taken your hand and led you down a hallway, somehow unseen by anyone else. He slipped you into a bathroom and shut the door behind you both. 
Pressing you against the door, he attached his lips to yours.
You felt yourself relax into him as he kissed you deeply. Suddenly, your shy side had disappeared and in its place stood the horndog who had written all those DMs. You gently bit his bottom lip and he wound his arms around your waist, pulling you even closer. You slipped your tongue into his mouth and he ground against you. You practically moaned; he was already hard. You reached down, stroking him through his pants. He was just as big as you’d imagined.
You pushed him back until he was leaning against the sink and were on your knees in an instant, tugging down his sweatpants. You licked your lips as his dick sprang free.
“Love reading your desperate little messages over and over again…” he sighed, his head dropping back a little as you stroked him slowly.
“Mmm… Yeah?” you smirked, taking the tip between your lips and sucking lightly. His eyes rolled back and his mouth dropped open as he gripped the counter for support. You could tell he was restraining himself from bucking his hips up into you.
“Fuuuuckkk yeaaah,” he hissed. Slowly, teasingly, you began to descend on him. “God, I jack off nearly every day to them… Love seeing how needy you are for me.”
Your brain practically stopped working; the situation you found yourself in was too good to even begin to comprehend. Timothée Chalamet had just admitted to enjoying your depraved fantasies while his dick was in your mouth. Your pussy was dripping.
You hummed in response, hollowing your cheeks and bobbing your head torturously slow. He seemed to understand the game you were playing and was happy to give you more.
“Sometimes I go onto your profile and scroll through your selfies and imagine fucking you just like you want me to.” One of his hands weaved into your hair, but he didn’t apply any pressure just yet. You took all of him in your mouth now, his tip nudging the back of your throat. You came back up slowly, running your tongue along the bottom of his shaft.
“Fuck,” he hissed again. You started to bob your head faster now. After a few moments, his restraint wavered and he began to thrust into you. You blinked up at him, eyes full of nothing but pure adoration as he fucked your mouth. “Fuck, (Y/N), you’re so fucking good for me… Gonna be a good girl and swallow my cum?”
“Mmmhm,” you hummed and he gasped at the feeling of your throat vibrating. He released another string of curses before you felt his hot cum shooting down your throat. You absolutely savored the moment, taking in every drop you could. You never wanted to forget this feeling; this taste. 
You bobbed your head a couple more times before pulling off, causing his legs to tremble. He caught his breath, pulling his pants back up. He looked down at you, knelt on the floor before him, eyes glazed over, cheeks flushed and lips swollen. 
He held out a hand to help you up, which you took. You frowned, unhappy that your encounter was over.
But as if reading your mind, he took your face in his hands. “Don’t look so disappointed. I’m not finished with you yet, love.”
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oneshots-heaven · 1 year
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“Sleeping Mates" — Timothée Chalamet
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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
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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.“
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Please do not come at me for not writing smut in this. I wanted to keep it wholesome. 😭
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thebetawolfgirl · 2 months
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Never Again
Pairing: Timmy x Reader
Warnings: Smut, Angst.
A/N: Ok, so I’m not really ecstatic over the title, but it’s a good fic and I’m really pleased with this one. Also during the smut scene I was listening to ‘If I Be Wrong’ by Wolf Larsen. (I don’t know why)
Never Again
She had let him go to fulfill his contract with Kylie Jenner, and he hadn’t had a decent night’s sleep since, he was miserable without her. He was a nervous wreck without her to calm him, the night of the Golden Globes came and of course Kylie had to be his plus one. He played his part when the camera turned on them then the rest of the night he didn’t even look her way. When he didn’t win and felt Kylie touching his shoulder trying to comfort him in his loss he had to stop himself from flinching from her. She disgusted him.
It should’ve been his beautiful y/n sitting beside him, even though he didn’t win they would’ve still celebrated in some way. Not to mention he would be allowed to talk to his fellow peers. Very few people came near his table during the entire night, no one wanted to go anywhere near or even be seen anywhere near the youngest Jenner. The only time someone spoke to him was if he got up and approached them, and even that was rare. She clung to him like a bad smell.
The next morning he woke up alone in his bed feeling the lowest he had ever felt. He missed y/n so much. It was as if he’d lost a vital body part, he needed her and she was always there. Always, no one had ever been there for him the way she was. She was doing conservation work in Africa when his beloved grandmother passed away and she surprised him by showing up at his private location in London just to be there for him. His father had been staying with him at the time and he had answered the door and welcomed y/n inside out of the cold.
He was beyond shocked. When he told his friend Selena about it she was equally surprised saying y/n didn’t leave Africa for anyone.
‘Timmy, once y/n goes to Africa, that’s it. She doesn’t leave until she’s finished her work over there. She’s never came home for ANYONE!’
Timmy sat pondering afterwards, remembering the time she didn’t even come home when her father was rushed to hospital after an accident, her work in Africa was extremely important to her. But she flew to London, sitting in a plane for hours just to come and see if he was ok and to be there for him after his grandmother passed.
That was a few years ago now and they decided to go steady when they got closer during filming Bones & All and they had been inseparable since then. He was mad for her, and she felt the same, then everything was ruined during the strike when Kris Jenner contacted his agent to join forces for a bit of PR since no one could work.
Y/n was fine with it at first, but the Jenners started getting greedy and desperate, demanding more of Timmy’s time insisting the public weren’t convinced that they were a couple slowly falling in love.
But just after the New Year y/n called him over to her house and told him she was letting him go, until he completed his obligations to Kylie. To say he was distraught is a huge understatement, they were both crying and there was a lot of begging on his part as she promised she would still be there waiting for him when it was over and he was finally free, but it was too stressful for the both of them.
Timmy left in tears after he handed her his spare key to her house and only messaged her every few days to give her the space she asked for.
Now he couldn’t bare to stay away any longer, he had just come from his manager’s office after ranting himself into a frantic state to the point he looked and sounded unstable. After he left the office he sat in his empty house wallowing and stewing in his own misery, he took a bottle of beer out of the fridge and drank it down before falling back on his couch staring up at the ceiling.
He got his phone out and went into his photo gallery where there were hundreds, perhaps even thousands of photos and videos he had taken of y/n, videos of her baking, covered in flour laughing away at his silly antics. Photos he had taken of her as they watched the sunset together at the beach, her wrapped in a thick blanket.
He sat there on the sofa watching all of them smiling completely lost in the sound of her voice and her laughter. He figured he lay there for a few hours, ignoring calls and texts from everyone, until he looked up and saw it was dark outside.
He realised it was late and he had been consumed in y/n for nearly four hours.
No, he couldn’t stay away from her any longer, he knew it was late and she may be in bed now. But he had to see her, he had given his key back to her, but what he hadn’t told her was that he had made a copy before handing the original over.
He parked outside her house and saw it was pitch black, she must be asleep, he would just let himself in, even if it was just to see if she was okay. He unlocked the front door and stepped inside quietly shutting the door behind him gently and turned to see her silhouette at the kitchen door staring at him with a glass of water in her hand.
‘You came home?’ She whispered from the doorway watching him in the darkness of the hallway.
‘I can’t stay away anymore y/n. I can’t stand it any longer.’ He replied hoarsely, walking over to her slowly as he tossed his key onto the table.
‘Thank God.’ She breathed before rushing over to him and crashing her lips against his hard gripping his hair tightly.
He felt her cling to him in the darkness and kissed her back hungrily shoving her against a console table before shoving her by her thighs onto the table and slamming her against the back wall, kissing and nibbling her lips while pushing everything else off as she wrapped her arms around his neck pulling him closer.
He lifted her legs around his waist and carried her upstairs banging into every inch of wall on the way to continue kissing or rip off an item of clothing. He was nearly naked by the time they reached the bedroom where he pushed her against the door moving to her shoulder to bite and nip her skin as she ran her hands down his back making him shiver against her.
He carried her to the bed tossing her down onto the mattress, before pulling her nightdress straps down her shoulders and torso kissing every inch of skin he could reach and see in the dark room as she arched into him.
He missed the taste of her skin on his tongue and nipped her rib cage making her gasp and pull him up to her and kissed him slowly as he slid into her while holding onto her his mouth falling open against hers as he filled her.
She held onto him as he began moving his hips against hers breathing against her skin as they moved together, the sheets tangling with them.
He sat her up to sit on his lap as he buried his face against her shoulder as she moved against him slowly, holding onto him, she pulled his face up to meet her kissing him gently.
She lay back again pulling him with her and held him close skin on skin as he increased his thrusts making them deeper before coming hard inside her causing her to come after him.
They lay together breathing hard against each other trying to catch their breathes as he rested his head on her chest closing his eyes at the feel of her fingers brushing up and down his spine.
‘Let’s not separate again? Please?’
He whispered against her damp skin and felt her kiss his head in confirmation while gripping a fistful of his hair between her fingers gently.
‘Never again!’
He smiled contently and nodded in agreement.
‘Never again!’
He fell into a deep sleep, the best sleep he had in months!
@sufferingstarlight
@gatoenlaciudad
@kteezy997
@lixzey
@tchalamess
@tchalamss
@minnypress
@mel-vaz
@natnatj0-8
@lavendarhearts
@ducktapebar
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lizpottersworld · 3 months
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౨ৎ call it what you want (timothee chalamet x female reader)
summary: whilst in a eleven month long secret relationship with timothee chalamet, you release one of your songs about him. also uploading teasers to social media of u and timothee.
pairing(s): timothee chalamet x singer!female reader
request here
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ynuser my new song, call it what you want, is now available to stream everywhere. thank you to my beautiful lover and his amazing boyfriend skills, i can now say i know what its like to be loved. lets cheers to eleven months of happiness and pure love. 🤍
comments.
zendaya im so happy for my girl<3
tomholland13 this song is fire!!
userone who is this mystery man???
kiernanshipka so happy and proud of you, i can see t’s treating you right.
usertwo who’s t??
usersix eleven freaking months??
userthree anyone else hoping and praying its timothee chalamet?? like they’re the cutest as friends, imagine as a couple
tchalamet <3.
userfour um? timothee? hello?
userfive its happening!!! omg!!! i just know, its timmy!!!
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tchalamet cheers to the love of my life for her new song release and happy eleven month anniversary. i love you beyond words can describe, and i hope that i can always be the one you look for in a crowded room. you are the most precious thing that has happened to me this year and i’m afraid ill never be letting go of you. so proud of my little writer.
tagged ynuser comments
userone i love love everything about this
florencepugh little timmy in his lover era
usertwo i cried reading that
ynuser i love you so so much, forever and always you timmy<3
zendaya cheers to your eleven months too!!
userthree theres no way you hid this for nearly a year
selenagomez so so proud of my girl & happy 11th month of love!!
madelyncline my parents!!!
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enews y/n y/l/n and newly announced boyfriend, timothee chalamet was just photographed at pandora’s promotion launch together. first public outing since the announcement and their eleventh month anniversary post. the singer is believed to be wearing a pandora t intial on a silver chain around her neck promoting her new song.
tagged ynuser & tchamelet comments
userone happy its y/n and not some fake model
usertwo their actually adorable
userthree starting off the new year strong!!
taylorswift anyone else loving this new it couple??
pandora it was loving having them!
userfour finally someone who wont break her heart!!
userfive taylor casually being in the comments
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suuuupernovaaa · 17 days
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Accident
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Timothee accidentally posts a picture of you, blowing your cover.
The panic sets in like ice flowing through your veins. A tingling at your fingertips shoots straight into your heart. Your eyes are wide, your palms are sweaty. It takes you a few seconds to open up FaceTime and dial his number.
He answers right away.
“Timothee, what did you do?” you ask, your voice low in case he isn’t alone. Your boyfriend is never alone.
The smile he had upon answering fades into something dark. “What?” he asks.
“Instagram,” you reply. “Look at your instagram story.”
When he disappears, you do too, going back to the story. It’s a picture of you perched on a stone wall, looking down the side of a mountain Timothee and you had just hiked. You hadn’t even known he’d just taken it. Your hair was stuck to your neck with sweat, and only part of your face is visible over your shoulder, as you turn to look at him.
His hand is on your shoulder, gripping tightly, possessively, and a hint of a smile plays at the half of your face that’s visible.
You’re wearing one of his t-shirts, an old, plain black one, and the sunset ahead of you makes the picture look like art.
Maybe no one will assume, or wonder. Timothee isn’t even really in it. Just hand.
“Shit, Y/N,” he says, and you swipe back to FaceTime. “Should I delete it?”
“Um… no. Well, maybe. I think people will talk more if you delete it. Maybe just leave it?”
It’s not like he tagged you. You’re not in his following list, because no one is. You’re a total unknown.
“Okay,” he says, the panic in his voice subsiding. “I’m sorry.”
You shake your head. “You don’t have to be sorry. It was an accident. And you can’t hide me forever.”
He rolls his eyes. “You’re hiding you. I’m protecting you.”
A soft smile crosses your lips. “I know.”
He winks. “I gotta go, but I’ll have management keep an eye on things online. Call me after work?”
You nod and he blows you a kiss before hanging up.
Boy, were you wrong. You’ve been wrong about some things in your life, but never something this big.
They’ve found your instagram, Facebook, and LinkedIn within two hours. You’re getting dozens of requests by the minute, and you’ve never been more grateful to have your socials private before.
The workday passes in a blur of buzzing on your phone. Most of it is follow requests on instagram, but the rest is your friends and family sending you articles about Timothee Chalamet’s ‘mystery girl revealed’.
Timothee Chalamet & the Lawyer from NYC
Timothee Chalamet’s Secret Lover
Timmy’s girlfriend: we talked to her childhood best friend!
It’s endless and you start requesting they stop sending all the nonsense your way. Your mom calls to ask if you’re okay, and your actual best friend reminds you that you knew this day would come, and she’s here for you.
The comments on his latest instagram post are hard to look away from.
user he’s dating that sweaty beast?
user she looks happy!
user who the hell is she???
user FAT GIRLFRIEDN??
reply to user fuck off with your misspelled fatphobia
Eventually, you put your phone on DND to finish your day. The subway ride home is uneventful, and as soon as you set foot in your modest apartment, you call Timothee.
“Well,” he says as an answer, “now I might have to say sorry.”
Despite the stress of the day, you have to laugh. “Maybe. But, this was going to happen anyway. Though one article called me a ‘social climbing hussy’ and I didn’t love that.”
You throw your bag onto the kitchen table and put your boyfriend on speaker phone so you can find something to order for dinner. This day calls for Thai, or maybe Indian.
“Don’t read that shit, Y/N,” he huffs. “None of it matters. I’m like, really sorry people are going to bother you now. But I’m not sorry that everyone is going to find out how in love and happy I am.”
Your cheeks heat, even though he can’t see you. It hasn’t even been a year, but Timothee is already the most special and wonderful thing in your life, and it’s no wonder when he says things like that.
“I wish you were here,” you sigh.
“Me too. Only a few more days.”
You stashed your phone in your room to charge, and to avoid, and turned on the TV. Sitting cross-legged in front of your coffee table in your most comfortable pajamas, you’re about to dig in to the most delicious spread of Indian cuisine when the door buzzes.
Could they have found your address?
You get up and press the speaker. “Let me in! You’re not answering your phone!”
Your heart skips a beat and you’re unable to even respond as you hit the button that unlocks the front door. You stand frozen in shock until three loud knocks sound at the door.
Once it’s open, there he stands, and he’s not empty handed. He’s got what looks to be two dozen beautifully arranged roses along with a giant bag full of what you assume is chocolate and candy.
You grab him by the collar and pull him to you, wrapping your arms around his neck. It’s been weeks since you’ve seen him, and the scent of him erases every bad thing that’s happened in the past 12 hours.
It’s worth it, your mind whispers.
He sets the flowers and gifts down on the kitchen counter. “I did something, and I don’t know if you’re going to like it, but let me explain,” he says, a wincing smile on his lips.
You bring his face to yours for a quick kiss. “I don’t care. I’m so glad you’re here.”
He takes out his phone and hands it to you. It’s unlocked already, and instagram is open.
He’s made a new post, and your heart flutters.
It’s a picture from a few months ago, taken at a friend’s house. You’re sitting on the kitchen counter, and Timothee stands between your legs, both of you laughing, his hands in your hair and yours on his hips. You hadn’t even known your friend had taken it at the time, but it’s been his phone background ever since, he loves it so much.
The caption is simple. “Happy.”
Your reaction surprises you as tears gather in your eyes. “They’re going to really come after me now.”
“I know. And I am sorry. But, Y/N, I know privacy is important to us both… but sometimes, I just want to talk about how happy I am. I think we can find a balance.”
He wipes a tear from your eye.
“I’m proud to be yours, Timothee,” you reply, and his smile stretches ear to ear. “Really, really proud. I love you. I just want to be careful, okay?”
He kisses your nose, then each cheek, and pulls you into a tight embrace. “I’ll do whatever it takes to protect this, Y/N,” he whispers, and you squeeze him tight.
You’ll navigate this together.
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faithiegirl01 · 2 months
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Okay… okay…
I need a Willy Wonka (Timothée Chalamet version ovi 🙄) Hanahaki Disease fic…
Like could you guys just imagine the angsty vibes yet also the most fluffiest vibes from that?! Like the reader gets sick and decides to slowly just stop helping before also hiding away from Willy as much as she can. While poor Willy over here be all like “I don’t know what happened noodle, one day we were fine and the next she’s avoiding me?!” Then noodle who has obviously figured it out try’s so hard not to tell him at the request of the reader, but then she finds a way to get him to figure it out on his own. When he does obviously he’s running right to the reader to figure it all out.
Like come on?! I must have a fic like this. PLEASE someone, anyone write something along those lines!!!!
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peleksstuff · 6 days
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interviewing timothée l timothée chalamet x reader
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gifs not mine*
summary: looking good interviewing timothee
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As the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the desert in a magical light, you sat face to face with two big Hollywood stars, Timothée Chalamet and Zendaya, right on the set of the highly anticipated movie, Dune. The conversation aimed to uncover their insights into the production process of this monumental adaptation and delve into the intricacies of their respective roles.
"It's great to have both of you here, Timothée and Zendaya. Dune is known worldwide, with a passionate fan following. How did you guys tackle the challenge of portraying your characters in this adaptation?"
Timothee's eyes locked onto yours as he began to answer, a spark of interest evident in his gaze. "Well, for me, it was about really delving into the psyche of Paul Atreides," he said, his voice carrying a hint of intensity. "His journey is one of self-discovery, of navigating a world filled with complexities and challenges. It was a privilege to step into his shoes."
Zendaya concurred with a nod before expressing, "Playing Chani was truly amazing for me. She's a character of immense strength and resilience, and I aimed to embody her essence in every scene. Working with such a skilled cast and crew was an absolute pleasure."
Throughout the interview, Timothee's gaze kept drifting back to you, his eyes lingering for just a moment longer than necessary, sending a flutter of excitement through your chest. Zendaya seemed to notice the subtle exchange and flashed you a knowing smile before continuing to discuss the film.
As the interview neared its end, you found yourself filled with excitement, grateful for the opportunity to have conversed with two burgeoning Hollywood talents. "Thank you both for your time today," you expressed warmly, a sincere smile gracing your face. "I'm confident that Dune will indeed become a cinematic masterpiece."
As the cameras stopped rolling, Timothee approached you with a sheepish grin. "Hey, um, I was wondering if maybe... you'd want to grab a coffee sometime?" he asked, his cheeks tinged with a hint of pink.
Zendaya, who had been observing the interaction with amusement, couldn't contain her laughter. "Well, well, well, Timmy," she teased, "how professional of you."
Timothee rolled his eyes playfully before turning back to you, his expression hopeful. "So, what do you say?"
You couldn't help but laugh at the unexpected turn of events. "I'd love to," you replied, feeling a surge of excitement at the prospect of getting to know him outside of the interview setting.
As you exchanged numbers with Timothee, Zendaya grinned mischievously, shaking her head in disbelief. "I can't believe you just did that," she said, her laughter filling the air. "But hey, who am I to stand in the way of true love?"
As you watched Timothee walk away, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips, you couldn't help but feel a sense of unexpected opportunity in the air, as if the desert sands themselves were whispering tales of new beginnings.
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lixzey · 5 months
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mine, forever mine.
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one two
Timothée couldn't help but smile as he watched his girlfriend, Y/N, sleep peacefully. She had looked so tired that he hadn't had the heart to wake her up, even though they had planned to go stargazing tonight.
He sat beside her, taking in her beauty and breathing in the smell of her. Timothée's heart thundered in his chest as he watched her sleep, her gentle breaths like a soothing melody to his ears. In the darkness of the night, he couldn't help but feel a sense of awe and admiration for the woman who lay beside him. She was like a delicate flower, beautiful yet strong, fragile yet resilient. As he traced his fingers over her skin, he wondered how he had been lucky enough to find her in the chaos of their world. Her laughter was contagious, and her smile could brighten up even the darkest of days. She had this way of making him feel like he was the only person in the world, and he loved her for that.
Timothée remembered how they met; fate had intervened in the most unexpected way, and he was grateful for that every single day. She was his best friend, his confidante, and his lover, all rolled into one. He couldn't imagine his life without her. When they first met five years ago, Timothée thought that she was way out of his league. Saoirse had convinced him to go out with one of her friends for lunch, and it was love at first sight. Timothée remembered that day vividly. He had been so nervous; his palms were sweating, but he was determined to make a good impression. He had put on his best outfit and made sure he was impeccably groomed. When she arrived, it was like the sun had suddenly come out and lit up the entire room. She was so beautiful and graceful, like an angel that fell from heaven, and he could hardly take his eyes off of her. Somehow, she had been able to see past his awkwardness and insecurity and accept him, no questions asked. She had quickly put him at ease with her warm personality and friendly smile.
It was like a spark of electricity that lit up his world, and he never looked back. He had never felt so alive before, and he knew that he was meant to spend his life with her. From their very first date, Timothée and Y/n had created the type of bond that most people spend their entire lives searching for. It was clear that they had a connection that would never be broken, no matter the circumstance.
Timothée admired how Y/n seemed to find happiness in the simplest things, always appreciating the beauty and little wonders that life offered. Y/n didn't deserve to get all of this hate, she was the purest soul. She taught him to slow down and accept life's imperfections, something he had struggled with in the past. Every time he looked at her, he thought the same thing: how lucky he was to have her in his life. For as long as he had known her, she was soft yet resilient. She had compassion and creativity.
Timothée was beyond grateful to Saoirse for setting them up in the most unexpected way. He couldn’t imagine his life without her. Y/n completed him in ways he never knew were possible. She knew his deepest fears and his darkest secrets, and yet she loved him unconditionally. She was his rock, his safe haven, and his home.
There were so many times that Timothée was certain she was going to walk out of his life. His career always got in the way of their time for each other. He always asked himself why she was still with him after all of the shit he'd put her through, like that one time when Y/n told him she was going to make dinner for him and completely forgot. But despite his shortcomings, Y/n stayed. She loved him because of who he was, and she assured him she was not going anywhere. Timothée was sure that his woman must have the patience of a saint, because sometimes it terrified him.
Timothée wanted to show her off and brag to the world about her. He wanted to tie the knot with her and spend the rest of his life with her. But his management stood in the way of that. He imagined them sitting on the porch of a cozy house, holding hands as they watched the sun set over the horizon while their children ran around, chasing each other through the yard. He couldn't imagine anyone else he'd spend the rest of his life with.
Suddenly, he had an idea.
I'm going to show her off, whether they like it or not.
Sighing, he leaned in to kiss her forehead. “Thank you for loving me, mon amour. I'm going to make it up to you. I love you.”
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“Where are you taking me, baby?“ You asked as you fidgeted with the cloth that covered your eyes. “Is the blindfold really necessary?” 
Timothée chuckled. “Be patient, mon amour. We're almost there; just hang in here tight."
“Can you give me a clue where you're taking me? Come on, babyyy!” You whined, your nose scrunching in annoyance, making your boyfriend laugh.
You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest. “Fine, laugh.”
It's been a week since the article blew up. You didn't give it any more attention; instead, you focused on your boyfriend, giving him all the love he deserves. You spent the week cooking for him, which he highly appreciated after a long day of working on the go.
Now, your boyfriend is taking you somewhere blindfolded. You had no idea where he was taking you, but knowing your boyfriend, it was another one of his surprises.
Suddenly, the car stopped abruptly. You heard your boyfriend get out of the driver's seat before opening the door on the passenger side.
"You ready, mon amour?"
“I can't see a thing; I'm absolutely ready.” You rolled your eyes at him—not that he could see it, though.
“There's my sarcastic girl.” Timothée chuckled, taking your hand in his and leading you out of the car.
Timothée slowly led you from behind, telling you when to turn and when to walk straight. After what felt like hours, Timothée finally instructed you to stop. You felt the soft grass beneath your feet and heard the faint background hum of a crowd of people. Finally, someone removed the blindfold, and you blink several times, trying to adjust to the sudden brightness. When your eyes finally adjusted, your breath caught in your throat.
The entire gazebo was lit up with twinkling lights, like thousands of stars had been scattered across the ground. Rose petals decorated the entire path leading to the middle. Timothée's family stood beside yours with huge grins plastered on their faces. Both yours and Timothée's friends were also there, smiling brightly. Bystanders stood around with cameras everywhere, trying to capture the moment. Suddenly, your eyes widened when your eyes landed on a familiar brunette; Kylie Jenner was smiling at you from the sidelines, giving you a thumbs up and silently urging you to go to your boyfriend.
You slowly walked towards your boyfriend, tears shining in your eyes as you realized what was happening. Timothée grabbed your hands, and life began to blur out around you as he began to speak.
“The very first time I laid eyes on you, I knew you were the one. You looked like an angel that fell from heaven, and I could hardly take his eyes off of you. You have this way of making me feel like I'm the only guy in the world. How have I been so lucky to find you amidst the chaos of the world? Your smile could brighten up even the darkest of days. You were like a spark of electricity that lit up my world. You taught me to slow down and accept life's imperfections. I can't imagine a life without you, mon amour. You are my rock, my safe haven, and my home.” His voice was shaky, but his words were clear and true.
Timothée fell on a bent knee, a beautiful diamond ring in his hand. His eyes were full of love and admiration. “So what do you say, my beautiful angel? Will you marry me? ” 
Tears welled up in your eyes as you gazed into Timothée's green eyes. “Yes,“ you whispered, your voice barely audible over the noise of the crowd around you.
“Yes, I will marry you!” You threw your arms around him, feeling his warmth and the beat of his heart against your chest. The crowd erupted into cheers and applause, and you felt as if you were floating on cloud nine. You leaned in close to Timothée and whispered, “I love you, Timothée Chalamet,” and you meant it with all your heart and more.
Timothée slipped the ring onto your finger, and the two of you shared a kiss that felt like forever.
You couldn't believe that you were engaged to the man of your dreams, the man who had swept you off your feet and made her believe in true love. You looked around at the smiling faces surrounding the two of you, feeling overwhelmed with happiness and gratitude.
“I hope you get used to my fans looking at you, mon amour.” Timothée chuckled, wrapping his arms around your waist. “I want to take you around the world. They don't have to understand. I'm going to rub it in their face that I put a ring on your hand.”
You giggled, kissing his nose. “That'll take a bit of getting used to.”
“I'm going to show you off, whether they like it or not.”
“You're the one.” You whispered, before capturing his lips in yours. “Mine, forever mine.”
You couldn't wait to spend the rest of your life with him, the man you love, your soon-to-be husband.
Your fiancé, your future, your Timothée, yours. 
@helens3amstuff @gatoenlaciudad @thebetawolfgirl @lovemelikecrazyiloveyoucrazy @tchalamss @tchalamss @ashlynnmalfoy @crazycat-ladys-blog @michakune @mxltifxnd0m @spencerr3idd @dangelnleif @sthkate @ferrjulie @imnotoverlyobsessive @mel-vaz @elsagreeer @lovely-maryj @meowmeowmau @bobthe-turmpetman29 @saintcosette @this-is-me-lolol
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bonesandchalamet · 4 months
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‘O Christmas tree — t. chalamet
masterlist | pairing: Timothee chalamet x reader
summary: Timothee is gone a lot for wonka and you’re work distracts you from decorating until someone comes on home…
warnings: fluff
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with wonka promotions and interviews, he’s not had time to think about Christmas. with nothing but chocolate, singing, and dancing on his mind the holidays have slipped by him once again.
it’s not too late, overnight shipping exists and stores still have great deals, but nothing screams to him.
so he’s back to square one: promoting wonka, talking about the works of dune, and hopping on another plane. the cycle continues while you FaceTime occasionally from your cold desk in New York.
“busiest time of year.” he says shaking the snow off his jacket and boots. he’d just landed for the good morning America segment, and the only place he could tell the cab driver to take him was here: your home.
“it’s always busy in New York, chalamet. you’ve been gone for that long you forgot?” you spin around in your work chair to see him standing by the door, a tree slung over his shoulders, and a box of lights in his other hand.
“is that a real tree?” in slight shock you ask the dumb question. its wrapped up in a net and the smell of fresh pine over takes your apartment.
so you’ve also been a bit busy. having not had time to decorate with monthly work quotas and yearly ends to meet, the fake tree never got set up and the stockings never got laid over the fake fireplace.
“do you want to decorate?”
“no more talk of chocolates?” you ask give him a quizzical look that earns a light laughter to escape his lips, “no more talk of chocolates.”
“you set up the tree, I’ll get the ornaments.”
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lola-la-cava · 11 months
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If You’ll Have Me
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gif not mine !
Timothée Chalamet x Reader
_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐
The sunlight peeking through the blinds shone. Two bodies on the bed laid, intertwined. Timothée laid with his stomach against the soft mattress. His arm wrapped around Y/N’s waist.
She opened her eyes, waking from her slumber and gazing at the sight she’d grown familiar to and loved. Y/N admired his slightly parted lips and his unruly curls covering the top half of his face. She pushed them upwards only for them to slowly come back down. Y/N giggled at this and tucked it behind his ears.
“Hm? What is it?” he asked with a raspy morning voice that gave her so much butterflies.
It had been a few months since they started going out and he never failed to make her feel all giddy and giggly like a school girl.
“Nothing, don’t worry. Good morning”, she grinned resting her forhead against his. Timothée chuckled at this and pecked her nose.
They laid like that for several minutes, bathing in each other’s presence. Whispers of sweet nothing and light grazes on each other’s bodies are exchanged. The couple cherished moments like these before the day ultimately pulls them apart like it always does.
Only this time it was different. Timothée was leaving for LA again to promote a new project. It would still be a few weeks before they got to do this again.
Y/N continued to long for a time when she could spend time with her boyfriend without getting interrupted by press junkets, reshoots and award shows. They both did, but most of her job kept her tied down here. In New York. All the way across the country from LA.
Until now.
She’d recently resigned to pursue a more free lance job.
She groaned as she pushed herself up to sit up against the headboard. “Oh God, I can’t believe you’re leaving again”.
Timothée sighed as he looked up at her admiring her features. “I know, but it’ll be shorter than the other trips, I promise”
Y/N raises her eyebrow at this.
He sits up, putting his hands up in defeat, “Honest to God! I just have around 15 interviews scheduled. I’ll be done with in 3 days. I have a talk show to do and a fitting for the-“
Timothée continued to talk, but Y/N also commented. “-Hey, don’t worry. Take your-“
“And I have a bunch of open houses to go to”
Her heart drops at the sudden statement.
The room silences. “Open house, huh? When’d you start looking?”
He scratches the back of his neck, “Around 3 months ago?”
She inaudibly scoffed.
The audacity this man had. They’d been dating for months and not a single word of this came out of his mouth. Was he just gonna lead her on? Make her make a drastic decision about their relationship on the brink of him moving to the other side of the country? Y/N didn’t even know anymore.
But of course, she had no right to influence his choice in this. He’d been working toward where he was for years now. And he had nowhere to go but up. Y/N couldn’t help but be proud of him and support him. No matter what he does.
She put on a small smile.
“That’s great, Timmy. Oh, I’m so happy for you”
“Well, nothing’s really sure for now, but yeah fingers crossed.” he smirks optimistically with a blank stare on the comforter.
He zoned out, imagining their life there. He kind of expected her to handle the news with more enthusiasm. Of course, this wasn’t the ideal way he thought to reveal it, letting it accidentally slip out in a vent, but still. Y/N seemed solemn almost sad. Like the way she seemed whenever he’d leave for another trip.
Timothée’s body tensed all of a sudden. He looked at Y/N with a confused expression
“Y/N?” he called out to her, letting his hand rest on top of hers. She hummed earnestly. “You don’t think I’m moving by myself, do you?”
She sat up at his words, her e/c eyes trained on his. “You’re not?”
He started laughing. Loudly. As if he was teasing her for thinking that. Truly he was cackling because it was so appalling to the point that it was funny.
She frowned at this, “What are you laughing at?” He pretends to wipe away tears threatening to come out of the corners of his eyes and pouted. “Aw, did you really think I’d leave without you?”
“God, Timmy! Why’d you have to scare me like that!” The heart that was previously in her stomach soared. Y/N looked into his eyes for a second before she jumped into his lap to give him a bear hug. She remained clinging onto him.
For a few minutes, they stayed like that. Y/N fiddled with the curls in the back of his head as he rubbed her back. His hand all of a sudden rested on her cheek, bringing her gaze to him. “So, how ‘bout it?”
“I’d love to”
He grinned at her words and placed small kisses all over her face.
“If you’ll have me”
“It would be my pleasure, mon ange”
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why-say · 1 year
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Timothée x reader imagine
Warnings: over stimulation
word count: 695
Y’all there was no motivation for this i’m so sorry LMAO.
~~~
You were losing your mind. It had been a couple of days since your fight with Timothee. You could barely remember what it was about due to the state you were in, but you could remember him leaving your apartment angry and entering his own just next door.
It had been hell living with him next door before you were together and you had a burning crush on him, but it was even worse fighting with him just next door. You could hear every little thing he did and it made you want to rush over there.
Right now you couldn’t focus on the sounds you were hearing because all you could feel was your burning skin. Sometimes you would have days where all you wanted to do was fuck and Timothée was always there to help.
With him so close but unavailable, it was torture.
You had woken up early because of how you felt and six orgasms later you still felt like your skin was on fire.
You were moaning and writing on your bed, one hand rubbing your clit, sneaking fingers into your cunt and the other pulling and tugging on your nipples.
You felt like you were on the edge and there was nothing to get you over. You reached for your thickest toy and began shoving it inside you when you heard your bedroom door open.
Surprisingly it was Timothée.
“Oh- erm…i’m sorry i heard you through my wall and i thought i’d check you were okay…” Timothée shuffled on his feet. “Do you want me to go?”
You could barely hear him over the blood thrumming in your ears. He had a soft blush on his cheeks and tried to avoid looking at you in your state but you could see the tent pitching in his pants. He starts to back out of your room, leaving you and you can’t help but cry out.
“Wait! wait wait wait, please don’t leave i need-“ you clam up before you can finish your sentence but Timothée knows exactly what you were going to say.
“I need-”
“Shh, I know what you need, baby.”
He walks over to you slowly.
“Please… I need you…I need you inside me.”
You keep pumping the toy inside your cunt until Timothée grabs your hand, making you pause.
He slips the toy out of you and tosses it to the side. Your pussy clenches over nothing and you let out a small whine. You hated the empty feeling inside you.
Timothée is quick to rectify that as she shoves three thick fingers into your dripping cunt.
“It’s okay baby, it’s okay.” He murmurs.
That’s all it takes to make you cum. Timothées fingers were heaven and he knew exactly what to do to help you. But you both knew it wasn’t enough. You needed a lot more.
He pulled his fingers from you and moved so fast you barely notice, though you would never notice anything in this state. He was on top of you, clothes gone and his fist was pumping his hard cock.
He parts your legs and pushes himself inside you. Usually he would take his time but he knew you couldn’t wait another minute.
“Please please please-“
Your begging is cut off as Timothée grabs the back of your neck, lifting you to his mouth and plants a wet kiss on your lips. His other hands slips under your ass and pulls your hips to his cock.
You let out a sharp moan that he swallows down with his kiss.
Timothée was thrusting himself inside you in a way that you had missed. You felt right. It felt like he was trying to show you through his movements how much he missed you.
You had already felt like you needed to explode before but with the emotions rising in you you couldn’t help but feel the tears well in the corners of your eyes.
Before they can spill over, your body lets go and you cum for what feels like the millionth time that day.
Timothée notices but keeps going. His stamina unmatched.
You know it’s going to be a long night.
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houseofchalamet · 1 year
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Very Busy
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Pairing: Timothée Chalamet x f!Reader. Summary: Desperate reader rides Timmy’s thigh while he’s working. Warnings: Smut, Dom!Timmy, thigh riding, language, teasing, begging. Word count: 635 A/N: Idk this one is mild as far as smut goes but pop off ig.
“Hi, Timmy,” you said, trying to keep your voice as innocent as possible.
“Hello, love,” he hummed. He didn’t look up from his desk, but he sounded pleasantly surprised. Usually, you never bothered him while he was working.
But today, you just couldn't help it.
Today, you needed him.
You crossed the room until you were right next to him, leaning against his desk. “Do you want to hang out with me?”
Finally, he looked up at you. Glanced down at the skirt he knew you had allowed to ride up on purpose. His unamused eyes met yours again before flicking back to the script he’d been analyzing for the past few hours. He could read you like a book; he knew what you wanted.
“Come here,” was all he said. You smirked, knowing exactly how he wanted you. You straddled his right leg, facing him. Your arms wrapped loosely around his neck, your head resting on his shoulder. You began rocking your hips against him.
It couldn’t have been more than five minutes, but you were already frustrated. You weren’t even close yet, and he wasn’t paying any attention to you at all. You stopped moving and huffed out a breath. 
“Need you,” you murmured into his neck.
“Keep going.” That was all the attention you were afforded. His eyes remained focused on scanning the papers in front of him, highlighting all of his lines and occasionally writing notes in the margins.
“But Timmy…” you whined, pulling back. You sat upright as your hand drifted down to his cock. You were not surprised to find it rock solid beneath his pants. “Can’t you just take a teeny tiny break? Please?”
You knew begging was fruitless; Timothée was nothing if not devoted to his job. Still, you figured you’d try to sway him. 
He smirked the tiniest bit; the only indication of your failure to persuade him. Your jaw clenched.
“I’m very busy, mon amour,” he replied. His tone was even, giving no indication that you were affecting him whatsoever. Perhaps that was the part that infuriated you the most. “I need to finish this. But if you’d rather wait until later-”
“No! No…” You pouted. “I can’t wait until later.”
His smirk deepend wickedly. “Then. Keep. Going.”
You huffed again as you returned your arms to their place around his neck and rested your head back down on his shoulder. Your skirt had ridden all the way up to your waist, the moisture that had already gathered between your legs now being contained by only a thin strip of underwear. You hoped you wouldn’t make a mess on his pants. Last time you did that, he wouldn’t let you cum for a week.
You began moving your hips again, the friction relieving some of your tension, but not enough.
“I don’t hear you, dear.”
You released the whimper you hadn’t realized was stuck in the back of your throat. 
“Much better.”
You moaned into his neck again, a little louder this time. He loved hearing you express your pleasure.
You moved faster, really trying to focus this time. Your breathing quickened, your moans becoming more frequent. Timmy lazily dragged a hand up your spine and you gasped. Even the most basic of touches from him could make your toes curl.
Your heart (and hips) raced as you felt your orgasm building. “Pleasepleaseplease-”
“Go ahead, love,” he said gently; affectionately. It was enough to push you over the edge.
You dug your nails into his back and moaned as your orgasm crashed through you. Your entire body trembled. You could still feel him rubbing your back lovingly, his touch sending tingles up and down your spine. 
“Good girl,” he murmured as the aftershocks subsided.
You whimpered again, placing a light kiss on his neck.
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