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growup-thatbeautiful · 2 years

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a/n: happy bones and all premiere!! i will not recover from this look anytime soon :))

summary: seeing timothee again at the Bones and All premiere after being away from him.

gravitation

Your knee bounces against the floor anxiously, rustling the skirt of the dress you’re wearing. Honestly, this isn’t where you want to be right now. Getting ready for a promo isn’t exactly your idea of a romantic reunion with your boyfriend, especially because it’s been a month since you’ve seen him.

Of course, you’re proud of him, and you’ll support him wholeheartedly no matter where. You just hoped that seeing him again would require less publicity and cameras.

It doesn’t really matter, though. Not when you’re so close to being in his arms, hearing his voice not distorted by bad signals and time zone hours.

Time moves in bursts and fits, flying by without your consent then deciding to slow down to match the pace of your attempt at even breathing. Finally, after what seems like hours in the hair and makeup chair after hours on a plane, you get the green light.

You don’t make a big entrance like the cast of the movie does: you’re only here to support Timothee. So, it goes relatively unnoticed when you sneak into the red carpet area, trying to get closest to the back as you can.

Immediately, you search for Timothee. He’s standing in the middle with Taylor, laughing at something together. It warms your heart to see him such good friend with someone he’s worked so devoutly with.

Then he sees you.

The cameras don’t matter. The screaming fans, the people shouting his name don’t matter. Not when you’re running towards him, looking angelic in a creamy white dress, gold bands around your arms, mouthing his name. The rest of the world goes silent as you touch his arm and look into his eyes, a dull ringing filling your ears. All you knows how to do is breathe in time with him and crush him right against your chest.

The flashes and shutters that capture your reunion are background to the sound of his heartbeat, his voice saying your name like a prayer.

“I missed you so fucking much,” he murmurs into your cheek, hand cupping your waist gently. “I’m never letting you go to work again, I swear.” You laugh and hold him closer to you, the skin of his back warm and smooth, uncovered by the red fabric.

Reluctantly, you let him go and turn to the crowd, shrugging with a grin and clasping Timothee’s hand in yours. You work together easily, posing and smiling for pictures, his hand on your back, supporting you.

“I’m going to go stand to the side,” you tell him after the pictures are taken. This isn’t your moments, it’s his and all of the other people who worked so hard on the movie’s. “I’ve already taken enough of the spotlight.”

He frowns and keeps you near. “You’re not stealing anything. I want you. Here. By my side.”

“I can be by your side metaphorically,” you suggest. “From over there.”

“But-don’t you want to to be with me?” You heart breaks at the crushed sound of his voice.

“I do, baby, I promise I do. But this isn’t my day, it’s yours,” you say softly, smiling at him. “Nothing would make me happier than watching you do your thing.”

“Are you sure?” he asks uncertainly. “I know we haven’t seen each other in forever.”

“Of course.” It’s easy, putting yourself aside for him. “We can catch up later. I’ve waited a month to see you, I can wait a few more hours. I promise.”

He still doesn’t look convinced, but you try your best to smile at him reassuringly. “I’m not going to keep you to myself, as much as I want to. I get to see you all the time, some of these people will never have the chance to see you again. Let me do this for you, for you.”

Finally, finally, he smiles and brings your hand up to kiss your knuckles gently. “Thank you, baby. You never cease to amaze me.”

“I hope I never do,” you grin, taking a step back. Before walking away, you add, “You look good, baby.” His smile widens and he clasps his hands in front of him, looking pleased. “I like the red.”

“I had to do something to catch your eye,” he responds with a grin, adding a flourish and gesturing to himself. “Do you think it worked?”

“I do,” you laugh. “But you don’t have to dress up to make me notice you. You’re hot shit, no matter what you’re wearing.”

“You really know how to make a guy feel special,” he deadpans.

“I try my hardest.” With that, you turn and walk away, leaving him to greet his fans.

He can call you selfless all he wants, but you would never complain. Watching him with fans is one of your favorite things to do; it’s one of your favorite things about him too. He’s always so enthusiastic and genuinely excited to see them. It’s refreshing and enduring as shit.

Eventually, he’s whisked inside, where food and drinks are waiting. You follow along behind, taking a champagne glass between your fingers.

You’re looking around, trying to find Timothee, when strong arms wrap around you and words are whispered in your ear. “Hi, honey.” You melt into him, going lax again his back, letting him take your weight.

“Hi, baby. How’s your night going?” You lean your head backwards against his shoulder, his hair tickling your cheek.

“Good,” he breathes, turning you around in his arms to face him. “Yours?”

“Perfect,” you smile, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear. It falls right back into his eyes, and you leave it as is. “Can’t wait to see the movie. I know you worked hard.”

He hums in agreement runs his hands along your arms, sharing them up and down. “I’m excited for you to see it. Then, afterwards, I’m all yours, whatever you want to do with me.”

“Promises, promises,” you joke. The silk of his shirt is cool and smooth underneath your fingertips as you drag your hands up his chest. “Don’t rush because of me. Take your time and do all that fancy movie talking you like to do. I’ll be there by your side to listen to you, but no promises on chiming in.”

“Right now all I want to do is curl up in our bed and watch old movies all night,” he admits softly. You know that your eyes are soft and adoring, focused only on him.

“As fucking amazing as that sounds, I think we should probably see this to the end. You know, because it’s your movie and all.” You can’t keep the fondness from creeping into your voice as you continue. “It looks like you’re having fun, Timmy. I’ll be here when you’re done. Old movies and cuddles can happen any night, this only happens once. Enjoy it.”

“Why do you have to make so much sense?” he sighs, pouting like a little kid.

“Because one of us has to,” you say, matter-of-fact. “And it’s not you.”

With a grin, he accepts his role and brightens. “I have something for you.” He produces the pair of black sunglasses he was wearing earlier and holds them out to you.

“Your sunglasses?” you ask skeptically, the edge of a smile on your face.

“Yep,” he says, popping the ‘p.’ He unfolds them and places them on your head, smiling widely and looking pleased with himself. “There.”

You can’t help the way you smile at him. You also can’t help how you gravitate towards him the rest of the night, staying as close as you can without hovering. Timothee would never complain about you being close to him, but you want to give him his space, his night.

You’ll be here when it’s over, waiting with open arms for him to be just yours. But right now, the world is waiting for him, wanting to see him, and you’re happy to step back. Everyone gets caught in his pull, his gravity, yourself included. That’s something you’ve come to accept, you’ve grown to work around. It’s taken years, it’s taken effort, but it’s worth it to see him smile. To see him succeed.

At the end of the day, you’re the one he comes home to. The one he slow dances with in the kitchen and curls up with under heavy blankets.

He’s your gravity and you’re his orbital, chasing him around, happy to be a part of his life.

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imnotoverlyobsessive · 8 months

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Moodboard by my bestie @softhecreator

Mr. Chalamet chapter five: sugar rush

AO3 info one two three four five six seven eight nine ten eleven epilogue

All my work is 18+.

I’m made for you, we can’t deny it. Meet me there where it never closes. Meet me there where it’s never hopeless. All is fair in love… We feel so good, it’s almost frightening. Let’s try again; I don’t deserve you, you’re a diamond.- Måneskin, HONEY (ARE U COMING?)

Lea awoke to the arm around her waist tightening and lips kissing her neck.

“Good morning,” a voice murmured against her skin.

Wakefulness seeped into her mind slowly, like sand filtering through an hourglass, and she recalled several things at once.

Mr. Chalamet kissing his wife.

Crying.

Mr. Chalamet asking her to let him kiss her.

The marble of his kitchen counter cold on the bare skin of her back, the twinkling light of the dimmed chandelier overhead as he—

Holy fuck.

Mr. Chalamet was… he was…

He was her boyfriend now.

Giddiness filled her veins like a sugar rush, and she arched into his searching hand.

“Timothée,” she breathed, her eyes still closed to the afternoon sun filtering in through the bedroom windows overlooking the gardens.

“Mmm,” he hummed in contentment, kissing her neck and trailing his hand up her bare waist to cup her breast. “I like the way you say my name.”

Lea finally opened her eyes as he began to pinch her nipple, rolling it between his fingers.

She wanted him again. She was fairly certain she’d wanted him since the beginning of time, in fact.

“You’re probably too sore to go again right now,” he admitted, his voice tinged with regret, “but we can do… other things. If you want.”

“Like what?” Lea asked breathlessly, excitement swirling in her abdomen.

He hummed again, considering. “I could sit you in my lap.” More kisses to her neck. “I can’t put my dick in you, but I can rub it against your little pussy.”

Her insides spasmed.

“Would you like that, sweetheart?” Tim asked gently. “You can grind your clit on my dick until you cum. What do you think?”

Lea turned over as fast as she could in his embrace, barely having the time to take in his sleep-mussed hair and half-lidded eyes before she fastened her lips to his.

He returned her kiss enthusiastically, fisting a hand in her hair.

Tim’s chest was warm against hers as he gently pushed her onto her back and climbed between her legs, kissing her with a lazy sort of hunger that made her dizzy. God, he was everything.

“Inside me,” she begged into his mouth, canting her hips upwards in encouragement. “Want you inside me—“

“No, sweetheart,” he murmured softly, trailing kisses down her flushed throat again. “Not yet. You’re too sore.”

“‘m not sore,” Lea insisted. “I’m fine, I want you—“

“It’s okay,” he shushed her. “I’ll take care of you. I’ll satisfy you, I promise.”

“You can take care of me,” she panted out, “by getting inside me.”

“Soon,” he assured her with a quiet chuckle. “Be patient. Trust me.”

“Tim—“ Lea was just starting to whine desperately when a ring from the bedside table cut her off.

Her newfound boyfriend sat up with a long-suffering sigh, raking his fingers through his curls. She was so struck by the way he looked—sunlight glinting off his pale skin, his hair casting shadows over his face, not to mention his body, holy fucking shit but he was beautiful—that it was as if they were frozen in time.

And then he shot her a lazy grin before rolling off of her to grab his phone.

“Yeah?” he said into the phone. There was an inaudible voice from the other end, and he smiled slightly. “I’m glad your flight went well, sweetie.” A pause. “No, you don’t need to put your mom on the phone. Thank you, though.”

He’s talking to Elle, Lea realized, watching him with wide eyes. In her defense, he was completely naked.

“Yeah, Lea’s still here.” He plopped back down on his bed next to her, taking her hand in his and linking their fingers together. “I think she’s still in bed.” She glared at him when he shot her a wink. “Uh-huh, yeah. I’ll tell her. Okay, love you, too. Bye, sweetie.” He hung up and put his phone back on the bedside table before turning back to Lea. “Elle says hi.”

Lea blinked at him. Elle was her friend. And she was… god, she was fucking her dad. Elle was her friend, and Lea had gone and fucked her dad behind her back. What a shitty thing to do. Elle thought her parents were in love, for fuck’s sake! She’d be heartbroken if she knew.

“I know that face,” Tim cut into her thoughts. “You’re upset. What’s going on?”

“I betrayed Elle,” Lea admitted, guilty tears filling her eyes. “I slept with my friend’s dad. God, what… what an awful thing to do.”

Tim sighed. “Oh, sweetheart.” He took her in his arms and pulled her close. “It’s not your fault. You can’t help who you fall for.” His voice was soft, gentle. Sweet. “I couldn’t help falling for you, either.”

“Even if we…” She gulped anxiously. “Y’know, wanted this, it shouldn’t have happened.”

“Why?” he asked. “Why shouldn’t we be happy?”

“It’s wrong,” Lea insisted shakily, even as she leaned into his chest. “These feelings are wrong, but acting on them is even worse.”

He cupped her cheek then, tilting her face up towards his. “How could what we have be wrong? Explain to me what’s so wrong about us being together, being happy.”

“I’m friends with your daughter,” she reminded him. “I betrayed her, and now I’m gonna have to lie to her about it. Plus, you’re married.” She looked down. “And, y’know… you’re a hell of a lot older than I am.”

He was silent for a long moment. “Is my age a turn-off for you?”

Lea shook her head. “No, not really.”

“Then why is it a problem?” When she didn’t answer, he asked, “Is it because of what you think?”

“Not really,” she admitted.

“Is it because of what other people would think, then?”

She grimaced. “I guess so.”

He sighed. “Lea, sweetheart.” She glanced up at him, and he continued, “It’s our relationship, not theirs. What’s it matter what other people think? All I care about is what we think, what we want, and how we feel.”

“I don’t want anyone to say anything bad about you,” she mumbled.

Tim snorted derisively. “I’ve been a public figure since I was sixteen. I haven’t paid attention to what other people think of me in a long, long time.” A pause. “And anyway, we wouldn’t be public about it for another few years, once Elle graduates. You’ll be twenty-two by then anyway.”

“And you’ll be thirty-seven,” she pointed out glumly.

“I guess I will, yeah.”

“And a half,” she tacked on.

“Yes,” he confirmed slowly. “So what?”

“So,” she enunciated, “my mom isn’t comfortable with the idea of me dating any guy. Dating a married guy who’s nearly thirty-eight? She’ll have a heart attack.”

He was silent for a long moment. “I’m pretty confident I can win her over.”

Lea snorted. “You underestimate how much she dislikes men.”

“Because of your dad, right?” he recalled. When she nodded wordlessly, he tightened his arms around her, rubbing her bare back comfortingly. “We’ll have been together for awhile by that point. I’m sure she’ll understand that I’m not gonna hurt you. As far as the age difference goes, well.” He sighed. “I know a lot of guys in my position have a history of dating girls your age. I don’t. The last time I was with someone under thirty, I was also under thirty.”

“I really am too young for you, huh?” she mumbled unhappily.

“No, sweetheart,” Tim reassured her gently with a kiss to her hair. “You’re perfect as you are.”

“Are you sure?” she asked timidly.

“I’m sure.” He continued rubbing her back. “I’ll talk to your mom when the time comes, alright? I’ll handle it.”

“Okay,” she mumbled.

“I’m not gonna be married by then, by the way,” he pointed out. “Or if I am, I’ll be in the process of getting divorced.”

“You’re… you’re not staying with her?”

He snorted. “What, you think I wanna spend the rest of my life with a woman I don’t love?”

She blinked. “I mean… you’ve spent seventeen years with her, haven’t you?”

“Yes,” he confirmed, “which is why I don’t wanna waste more time with her as my wife than necessary.” He slid a hand into her hair. “Plus, I hope we’re still together by then, and if we are, I’ll be honest: I’m definitely gonna be in love with you by that point, and the last thing I want now is to be married to another woman, so once I’m in love with you?” He scoffed lightly. “No way in hell will I wanna stay with her long-term.”

Lea smiled despite herself, burying her face in his chest.

“Now then,” he continued, “about Elle and the obvious guilt you are experiencing.” She groaned, and he chuckled quietly. “I get it. I feel bad about keeping it from her, too. You’re my girlfriend now, and therefore one of the most important people in my life. It sucks keeping our relationship from her, especially when it means so much to me, and because you mean so much to her.” He sighed. “But it’s necessary for her. Lola and I agreed a long time ago to keep our relationships out of her life.”

“Yeah, I know,” she muttered grumpily.

“Hey.” Tim put two fingers under her chin so as to tilt her face up towards his again. “Don’t feel bad, okay? We’ll tell her eventually, and anyway, this is in no way your fault.” He cupped her cheek. “Don’t give up on us before we’ve even tried.”

“Okay,” she breathed, trying her damnedest not to look at his mouth. In her defense, he had a very nice mouth.

Tim, however, had no qualms whatsoever about eyeing her lips. “Can I kiss you?”

“Yes,” she murmured, already leaning up towards him.

He slid a hand into her hair and leaned down to kiss her.

Lea didn’t mean to snoop. She really, truly didn’t. It was an honest mistake.

But he’d left his texts with his wife up on the sunroom coffee table, and they were, like, right there.

I have a girlfriend btw

Is this one new?

Yeah, a couple weeks now

Do I know her?

You’ve met her

It’s Elle’s friend, isn’t it? The redhead?

Yeah, how’d you know?

Cuz I saw you trying not to look at her in front of Elle lol

What can I say? She’s hot

Bit young for you, isn’t she?

Eh idgaf, she’s great. You’ll like her

Let’s see how long this one lasts, then. Get back to me in a few months 😂

Shut up I really like her okay

Alright, alright

And that was the most recent text.

“Lea,” came Tim’s voice from the kitchen, “have you seen my phone?”

“Y— yeah,” she called back. “I’ll bring it to you, one sec.”

Standing on shaky legs, Lea walked across the house and into the kitchen.

He was in the process of making them dinner, and she set his phone on the countertop next to him. He reached for it and, upon seeing it was still open, looked up at her.

“I take it you’re blushing because of the texts?”

She looked away uncomfortably. “I didn’t mean to see them.”

“It’s fine,” he assured her with a grin over his shoulder. “There’s nothing on my phone I feel the need to hide from you.”

“So, um.” Lea swallowed anxiously. “You told her?”

“Who, Lola?”

“Uh huh.”

“Yeah,” he confirmed. “I always tell her when I get a new girlfriend.”

“Oh.”

He paused in his food preparation before turning his face towards her. “Is that… okay?”

Lea crossed an arm over her stomach, cupping her elbow. “I mean, yeah, it’s fine, I just wasn’t expecting it, I guess.”

He sighed, turning towards her fully and leaning back against the counter. “I’m sorry, baby. I should’ve talked to you about it first. I sometimes forget this is all new to you.”

She smiled slightly in reassurance. “It’s okay.”

“I’ll make it up to you,” he promised, clasping her hands in his.

“You don’t have to,” she assured him. “I’m not upset, I was just surprised.”

He hummed, pulling her closer. “Nope, won’t do. I have wronged my beautiful, wonderful girlfriend, and the situation must be rectified.”

“Oh, it must, huh?” she teased with a grin.

Tim nodded seriously. “Yes, it must.”

Giggling, she looped her arms around his neck, stood on her tiptoes, and kissed him.

“What’s this?” Lea asked as Tim kissed her neck.

“A dress,” he informed her helpfully, gesturing to the midnight blue minidress with gold embroidery that made it look like it was sparkling. “Thought you’d like it.”

“It’s gorgeous,” she confirmed, leaning into him. “What’s the occasion?”

“We’re going to a party, so I got you a dress and some stuff you may wanna wear with it.”

“A party?” she questioned in surprise. “I thought this whole… thing between us wasn’t gonna be public?”

“‘Thing’?” he questioned, sounding somewhat disappointed. “I’d prefer to think of it as a relationship, but no, we’re not going public. I won’t take you to any parties where there’ll be photographers or anything, and my friends wouldn’t post pictures of us publicly,” he assured her. “Besides, you’ve been invited.”

She turned around in his arms. “I have?”

He nodded. “Yeah, Steph invited you.”

She wracked her brain, trying to remember who that might be and if she knew him. It hit her after a moment. “Steph as in Stephane Bak?”

Tim nodded.

She stared up at him in disbelief. “Stephane Bak invited me to a party?”

“Well, yeah,” he shrugged. “I mentioned that I have a girlfriend, and he said to bring you.”

Her head was spinning. “Holy shit.”

“I dunno why you’re so surprised,” he chuckled. “It’s not like you’ve never met any of Elle’s friends who’re a bit more well-known than you’re used to, right?”

“Well yeah,” Lea agreed, “but this is different, isn’t it? Like, is it a small party with a few people or is it, like, a big thing?”

Tim snorted. “Well, it’s Steph, so it’s definitely not gonna be small.”

“Exactly,” she said with a nod. “It’s a big famous people party. I’ve got no business being at a party like that.”

“Uh…” He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. “I mean. Do I count as a famous person in your book?”

She frowned. “Well, duh.”

“Then I would like to point out that you are dating a famous person, sweetheart,” he reminded her gently. “No one there is the sort of person to treat you differently, but even if they were, you have every right to be there.”

“Okay,” she conceded, fisting a hand in his shirt.

“Besides,” Tim went on, “the idea of you wearing that little dress, walking into a party on my arm, everyone who sees us knowing you’re mine?” He hummed, leaning in closer to brush his lips over her neck. “Kinda hot, not gonna lie.”

“You’re weird,” she pointed out with a giggle.

“I don’t think it’s weird to want everyone else to know that my girlfriend is superior and therefore I am also superior,” he quipped without hesitation.

Lea snorted. “I’m not superior. Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Agree to disagree,” he hummed, pressing a swift kiss to her neck.

She rolled her eyes outright at that. “When’s this party, anyway?”

“Next week. That okay?”

“Yeah, sure.” She leaned into him, basking in his warmth. “Not like I’m doing anything for the summer, anyway. I probably should be working.”

“You’re doing very important work,” Tim assured her.

“Oh?”

“I’ve been told that keeping me satisfied is a full-time job, so I’d say so, yeah.”

She choked on her own saliva. “Making out with you does not count as a job, Tim!”

He snickered. “It’s not just making out.”

“You know what I mean,” Lea said firmly. She wasn’t super comfortable discussing their sex life when they weren’t actually, like… having sex at that exact moment.

He found it hilarious and took great pleasure in saying things that he insisted turned her face the exact same shade of red as her hair. She’d never say it, but the truth was, she thought about it a lot. Particularly how they’d been together for a few weeks already, and he still wouldn’t be as rough with her as she knew he wanted to be. It was immensely frustrating to feel him holding back.

“Maybe I need clarification.”

He was giving her such a grin that she knew he was full of it. She informed him of this by wordlessly pinching him on one of the arms he had wrapped around her waist.

“Ow!”

“Don’t be a dick, Tim,” she scolded.

He rested his chin on the top of her head, a move he knew full well reminded her that she was significantly shorter than he was. “You’re so cute when you’re embarrassed, though.”

“Don’t be a dick, Tim,” she repeated, enunciating her words slowly.

“Pah!” he huffed. “Fine. Party pooper.”

“I honestly have no idea why you’re into me,” she admitted. “I’d think you’d want someone who was more…”

“More what?”

She sighed. “I dunno. On your level, I guess? It’s hard to put into words.”

“I like you,” he informed her bluntly. “I like you a lot, actually. Isn’t that reason enough?”

She smiled despite herself. “Yeah. Yeah, I guess it is.”

“Are you sure you wanna bring me to this?” she asked, fidgeting anxiously with the hemline of her midnight blue dress.

“Baby,” Tim sighed, “of course I want you to come with me.”

“I just… I feel weird meeting your friends…”

“Why?” he pressed gently.

“I mean… I’m your side chick, y’know? And you’re introducing me to your friends.” She shrugged. “It feels weird.”

“You’re not my side chick, Lea,” he said softly. She wasn’t entirely sure how to respond to that, so she stayed silent. “Hey.” He cupped her cheek and tilted her face up towards his. “You are more to me than that. Okay?”

She sighed, leaning her forehead against his chest and closing her eyes. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled guiltily. “I don’t mean to doubt you.”

He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close and kissing her hair gently. “I’m not offended, sweetheart. I just don’t like to see you feeling this way, is all. I want you to be happy.”

Smiling slightly, she nestled into him. “You make me happy, Tim.”

“You’re sure you wanna take me to this?” she asked him outside a ridiculously fancy hotel suite his friend was currently staying at.

“I’m positive, babydoll.”

He trailed his hand down her back and squeezed her ass, the motion almost absentminded.

“Okay, if you’re sure,” she conceded hesitantly.

“Great,” he said with a grin before stepping towards the door and pounding on it a few times. “Hey, asshole! Open up!”

Lea blinked up at him, startled.

The door opened, music spilling out into the hallway. A tall man stuck his head out the door, and Lea stared up at him with wide eyes.

“And who might you be?” Stephane asked her with his heavy French accent.

Tim rolled his eyes and pushed past his friend, tugging Lea after him by the hand. “Tim!” she hissed scoldingly.

He sighed, turning around to face his very amused-looking friend, who said, “Your girlfriend, I take it?”

Tim nodded, winding his arm around her waist again. “Steph, this is Lea. Lea, this is Steph.”

“Nice to meet you,” she said with a polite smile.

Stephane nodded back at her, returning her smile. “Come, I’ll get you something to drink.”

They followed him through the throngs of people, and upon reaching a bar, Tim was given a glass of something-or-other, and when Lea was asked what she wanted, she pursed her lips in thought. “Do you have any sodas?”

Stephane raised his eyebrows. “I could fix you a rum and Coke if you’d like.”

Lea tucked a curl behind her ear anxiously. “Oh, um… that’s okay. Just a Coke is fine, thank you.”

Stephane looked at her a bit strangely, but he handed her a Coke anyway.

She was sipping it idly when someone slapped Tim on the back. They both turned around in surprise, and Lea’s mouth fell open when she saw Zendaya grinning at Tim.

“Haven’t seen you in awhile!” she said loudly over the thumping of the bass. “Who’s this?”

“Lea, my—“

“This is Lea?” Zendaya cut him off, her grin widening.

“Hi,” Lea managed, feeling more than a little starstruck.

“You’re adorable!” Zendaya squealed, engulfing Lea in a hug. Lea blinked, but tentatively hugged the other woman back. When Zendaya pulled away, she leaned in close and stage-whispered, “I’ll tell you a secret.” Lea’s eyes widened. “Tim’s, like, borderline obsessed with you.”

Lea turned bright red, turning to her boyfriend, who had obviously heard what had been said, but looked entirely unrepentant about it. He shrugged lazily. “Can you blame me, though? I’m pretty sure anybody in my situation would be.”

“Seriously,” Zendaya went on as if Tim hadn’t said anything at all, “he never shuts up about you.”

Lea smiled, instantly deciding she liked Zendaya.

“I think we’re gonna be good friends,” Zendaya informed her.

Tim had had a few drinks, and so he was getting extremely handsy, as he usually did when tipsy. He had pulled her away from a conversation she’d been having and into his lap in a chair tucked away in a dark corner. He situated her so that she was sitting sideways, which made it easy for him to fist a hand in her hair and pull her in for a kiss.

It grew heated very quickly, his hand palming her ass roughly as he mouthed at her neck. She forgot where she was, the rush of her blood drowning out the pounding of the bass.

He trailed wet, open-mouthed kisses up the column of her throat before fastening his mouth to hers again, sucking her lower lip between his teeth.

“You’re too goddamn sexy,” he told her, voice raspy. “This little dress swishes up around your ass, teasing me.”

“You’re the one that got me this, y’know,” she pointed out breathlessly.

“Oh, I know,” he growled. “That’s part of why I got it for you. It’s short and your tits bulge out of it. So fuckin’ hot. And you’re all mine.”

“Mhm,” Lea hummed, kissing him eagerly. She sucked his tongue into her mouth, and he groaned, squeezing her ass with both hands now.

“Want you,” he murmured against her lips. “Wanna fuck you, baby.”

“Tim,” she giggled scoldingly, “we’re in public.”

“So what?” he scoffed. “There’s definitely somewhere in here we can go for a little privacy.” He paused. “Unless… unless you don’t want to?”

She shifted in his lap slightly. “I never said that.”

She felt his smirk against her skin. “Is that so? You wanna get fucked, sweetheart?”

She nodded eagerly, and he immediately hoisted her up and pulled her into a nearby bathroom.

He pressed her back up against the closed door and flicked the lock. The music was a bit fainter, so she could hear him better when he said, “How ‘bout I give it to you rough this time?” She shivered in delight at the thought, and he smirked against her neck. “You think you’re ready for that, sweetheart? Ready for a good, hard fuck?”

“I want it,” she gasped out, fumbling with the zipper of his pants.

“Patience,” he scolded with a dark chuckle, yanking her dress up around her waist and bending her over the countertop. He ran his hands reverently over the skin of her ass that the open back Agent Provocateur panties exposed, the dark blue fabric contrasting sharply against her pale skin. “Mmm,” he hummed, giving her asscheek a rough squeeze. “Such a needy little slut for me, aren’t you, sweetheart?”

“Uh huh,” she whimpered, wiggling her ass enticingly. She wanted him inside her already.

“Been teasing me all night, Lea,” he chided. “You think you deserve a punishment for that?”

Her heart leapt at the prospect of him punishing her, butterflies filling her stomach. “Yes,” she breathed.

“I think so, too. Been such a bad girl, huh?” He squeezed her ass again before giving it a sharp smack. She moaned low in her throat, lifting her ass up off the countertop a bit, wanting him to do it again. “What kind of slut likes to be spanked?” he murmured, smacking her other asscheek. “Dirty little girl.” She moaned again, and he hastily added, “Seriously, though, Lea— if you don’t like it or it hurts or you want me to stop, tell me. I won’t be upset, alright?”

She nodded rapidly. “Don’t stop, please.”

“Fuck,” he groaned, kneading the reddened skin of her ass before giving it another sharp slap. “Look so pretty with your ass in the air for me, babydoll. You gonna take my cock as well as you take your punishment?”

“Mhm,” she gasped out, the sound turning into another moan of pleasure when he slapped her ass again. “Fuck, Tim—“

“Not nearly as innocent as you seem, huh?” he teased. “Dirty little slut who likes getting spanked, getting fucked?”

“‘m your slut, Tim,” she whined desperately. “Want it, I want it, please—“

“You gonna be good for me?” he rasped, and she heard him undoing his pants swiftly. “You gonna take this cock like the filthy little fucktoy you are?”

“Yes, I will, I will, just—“ she cut herself off with a whine.

Tim yanked her panties down and off, spread her legs roughly, and slammed into her. “Good girl,” he groaned. “Take it, sweetheart. Fuck.”

“Tim,” she moaned in desperation, her legs kicking mindlessly, the tips of her toes brushing the tiled floor.

His fingers dug into the skin of her hips as he set a rough pace, the sounds of skin slapping against skin filling the room. “Pull your dress down,” he panted out. “Bra, too. Show me those tits in the mirror.”

She scrambled up onto her elbows, hastily yanking her dress and bra down beneath her breasts, the blue and gold eye pendant she wore swaying as he fucked her.

“Lemme see,” he demanded sharply, smacking her ass. She yelped at the delicious sting and pushed herself up a bit so he could see her breasts. “Fuck,” he grunted, his hands tightening their grip on her. “Love how big they are.” He smacked her ass again. “And the way your ass jiggles when I fuck you like this— so fuckin’ sexy, sweetheart.”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” she was chanting mindlessly, her toes curling at how good it felt. “God, the way you stretch me out, fuck—“

“You like that, huh?” he chuckled. “Like getting split open on my dick, Lea?”

“Uh huh,” she moaned, her hair falling in front of her face. “So good, don’t stop, please don’t stop—“

“Don’t worry,” he assured her, “I’ll fuck you till you’re satisfied. Such a needy little slut, aren’t you?”

“Can’t help it,” she admitted, moaning loudly when he smacked her ass again. “Feels too good.”

“Yeah, I’ll bet it does.” He kneaded the reddened skin of her asscheek. “You got a taste of my cock and now you can’t get enough, is that it?”

“Yeah,” Lea gasped. “So good, so big—“

“I think it’s more that your pussy is just so little, so tight,” he corrected, using his grip on her hips to pull her back and forth onto his cock. “But you’re used to it now, huh? Used to getting fucked.”

She could only whimper mindlessly, her eyes fluttering shut.

“Nuh uh,” he snapped, gripping her hair at the back of her head and yanking her upright. “Look at me. Watch me fuck you. Don’t want you to forget who you belong to.”

Lea forced her eyes open and met his gaze in the mirror. His hand tightened in her hair, and she inhaled sharply at the sting.

“You gonna be good for me?” he demanded. “You gonna behave, do what I tell you?”

“Yes,” she promised, her voice more of a moan than an actual vocalization, and when he smacked her ass sharply, she yelped.

“You like it?” Tim wanted to know. When all she did was nod wordlessly, her eyes glazed at how roughly he was fucking her, he yanked her hair. “Use your words, Lea. If you like what I do to you, you have to tell me.”

“I— I like it,” she managed to force out.

“Yeah?” he murmured, meeting her gaze in the mirror. “You want more?” Before she could moan in response, he added, “You’d better tell me what you want or I’ll have to stop.”

“Don’t stop, please,” she begged desperately. “I want more, I want you to fuck me, please, I want—“ A moan cut her off, pulled from her vocal chords when he slammed into her again.

“Like this?” Tim panted, the force of her thrusts jolting her body against the countertop.

“God, harder,” she pleaded. “I want it harder, please—“

He obliged her, though he gave her ass a sharp smack at his next thrust. “Knew you’d love getting your tight little pussy pounded,” he chuckled, spanking her again. She whimpered at the sting, at the way he stretched her, and he said, “Such a fuckin’ slut, huh?”

Lea moaned incoherently, her toes curling in pleasure. “Fuck, Tim, ah—“ she managed.

Her eyes were drooping again, and he smacked her ass to get her attention, yanking her hair sharply so she’d meet his gaze in the mirror. “Bad girl,” he scolded darkly. “Eyes open. Watch me.” He spanked her again before kneading the reddened skin, fucking into her so harshly she thought she’d die from how good it felt.

“‘m sorry,” she mumbled, eyes roving over his reflection. He hadn’t taken his clothes off, but he didn’t need to when he looked so freakin’ hot regardless of what clothes he had—or didn’t have—on.

He knew pretty well by that point how to know when she was checking him out, so he smirked and said, “Like what you see, huh?”

Lea flushed at being caught staring, looking down in embarrassment.

Tim gave her ass another slap, and she yelped in surprised delight. “What did I say about looking at me?” he demanded, his voice low.

“To not stop,” she admitted, her voice almost a whine.

“That’s right,” he confirmed. “Be a good girl and do what I tell you.”

“Yes, Tim,” she agreed immediately, not wanting him to stop. Her obedience was rewarded with a harsh thrust, and she moaned blissfully.

“How ‘bout I make you cum?” he asked roughly. “Would you like that, sweetheart? Wanna cum all over my cock?”

“Yes, yes, yes,” she chanted mindlessly. “I wanna cum, please—“

“You gonna behave for me?” he rasped. “Be my good girl, my slutty little princess?”

“Yes,” she moaned. “I will, Tim, I swear, I’ll be so good for you, please make me cum—“

He snaked a hand under her, rubbing her clit in fast, hard circles. The angle limited his thrusting somewhat, so he could really only rock his hips into her, but it didn’t matter because she was full, he was filling her, and he was rubbing her clit and making her feel so fucking good. “Can feel your pussy clenching around me, Lea. Why don’t you cum, babydoll? Show me how much you love it when I fuck you, huh?”

He reached up and squeezed one of her breasts, twisting her nipple roughly, and she moaned deep in her throat. “Tim, I— ‘m gonna cum, I—“

“I know you are,” he murmured, watching her eyes flutter shut in the mirror. “You’re gonna cum all over my cock, aren’t you?”

“Yes, yes, fuck I’m so close—“

“Cum for me, sweetheart,” he demanded. “Give it to me, c’mon.”

She moaned again, rolling her hips against his hand as best she could with the countertop in the way, and then—

And then Lea’s orgasm ripped through her, her voice a cacophony of moans bouncing off the walls of the bathroom.

“Fuck,” he panted, still squeezing her breast. “God, the way you clench around me when you cum, baby, I’m gonna— fuck—“

“Mmm,” she hummed in lazy contentment. “Yeah, Tim, fill me up. Want it, want you.”

He groaned her name, the hand grasping her hip tightening, his fingers digging into her skin bruisingly, and then he made a sound like he’d had the wind knocked out of him, doubling over and repeatedly pressing kisses to the skin of her back that her dress revealed.

“Are you serious right now, man?” Zendaya asked as they awkwardly slinked—well, okay. Lea awkwardly slinked. Tim strolled like this was a common, everyday occurrence—out of the bathroom. Lea froze, blushing bright red and fumbling for something to say, but Zendaya appeared to be addressing Tim. “You really couldn’t wait until you got home to accost this poor girl?”

Lea’s blush deepened, but Tim simply shrugged, the picture of nonchalance. “I really couldn’t, no.”

Zendaya rolled her eyes before fixing them on Lea. “You good?”

Lea nodded jerkily. “Yeah, I’m, uh…” She fumbled, seemingly unable to articulate anything of note.

Tim chuckled affectionately, sliding an arm around her waist and pulling her in close with a swift kiss to her hair and a murmur of, “You’re so fuckin’ cute when you’re embarrassed.”

“Shut up, Tim, oh my god!” Lea bristled, glaring fiercely at him, though admittedly not pushing him away.

He shrugged again, the arm around her waist tightening.

Zendaya rolled her eyes again. “You’re disgusting, Tim. Go home.”

He shot his friend a grin and a sarcastic salute before pulling Lea off to find their host and say their goodbyes.

Author’s note

Tag list

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

To be added, please ask 💗

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chamiltonslilcumslut · 2 years

Text

⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★ Standing Reservation: Chapter 4 ★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆

✦ timothée x femme reader

✦ word count: 1521

✦ warnings: 18+, suggestive themes

You and Andy are heading out of his office after finishing a long day of work. You are starving and excited for your usual Monday night Carbone date. You walk past Andy’s secretary: President Hamilton, you have a call from Jen. You feel a pang in your chest. Andy tells you to wait at the elevators, but you linger a bit to try and listen in on his conversation.

Hi my love. I won’t be home for dinner. You know I have my meetings with Fountain on Mondays.

Your heart drops. You walk towards the elevators and wait there for Andy to finish his call.

Jen. Jen. Jen. Who even is this Jen anyways. Jen. Jen. Jen. Jen. Why does Jen matter so much. You try to tell yourself it doesn’t matter, but everything in you says otherwise. At last, you surrender to the burning curiosity. You quickly pull out your phone and type four words into the search bar: Andy Hamilton NYU Jen. You click the first result. It’s a Wikipedia article. You scroll down through the subheadings. Overview… early life…career…personal life. Fuck.

You put your phone away quickly as Andy starts walking over to you. He has a huge smile on his face.

“Ready to go?”

“Mhm.”

You get in the car with him, you hear your heartbeat in your ears. Your world is suddenly upside down. You sit quietly and debate on calling him out. It takes a second or two before you finally feel brave enough to confront him for lying.

“So… Jen?”

“What about her? He says without looking up from his phone.”

“I didn’t know you were still with her.”

“She is my wife, Y/N.”

“So, what have we been doing?”

“What do you mean?”

“Carbone every Monday? Our meetings in your office? Late nights in your car?”

“We haven’t really done anything.”

“I know, but this feels a bit past a professional relationship.”

“I’m not sure why you would think that, I’ve always viewed you as a mentee.”

“So, why did you lie to your wife about where you’ve been every Monday?”

“Y/N, it’s just dinner.”

“Really? So, what would your wife say about our “meetings” or should I say your meetings with Fountain? It would be pretty crazy if she somehow found out that we’ve been spending all of this time together.”

“Why don’t I get you home?”

“I mean, I did want the Carbone… but okay.”

“I don’t think that would be a good idea. In fact, I think we should put an end to this.”

You and him both go silent. He tells the driver to change the address to your apartment. You stare out of the window as you think about everything that just happened. You hate confrontation and feel that you’ve really ruined things between you and Andy.

Your eyes get watery as the pain of losing him starts to sting but you swiftly dry them because you don’t want Andy to see how upset you are. After thirty-minutes of complete silence, you see your street. The driver inches towards the entrance of your building and parks briefly. You quickly glance at Andy to say goodbye.

“Well, I really enjoyed my time with you even though I’m still not sure what this was.”

“Take care Y/N.”

The car drives off and you rush into your apartment sobbing uncontrollably. You and Andy weren’t in a serious relationship, but it still hurts that things ended the way they did. Andy might’ve been older, but he was was smart, charming, and polite - everything you really want in a partner. There was a true connection between you and Andy, but you’re just a few decades too late.

—----------------- Andy’s POV —-----------------

Y/N left the car and I could see how red her eyes were from holding back her tears. I can’t believe I hurt her but how could I do this to Jen? This isn’t me.

Andy looks down at his wedding ring and takes it off. He thinks about his wedding vows. He sees a cathedral on the corner. Before long, he finds himself wandering in thinking about what he’s just done. Andy sits alone in a pew, silently praying to God for forgiveness. He debates on confessing to his wife… but how could he tell Jen? What would their kids think of him? Does he still love Jen?

Andy thinks about the past year with Jen. Things just haven’t been the same. They don’t hang out like they used to, the sex is boring now, and the passion has practically disappeared. Whenever he’s with Jen, he always finds himself imagining that he’s with Y/N instead. Y/N just makes him feel things that he hasn’t felt in a long time. Even though he knows that it’s wrong to have an affair, though he didn’t do anything with Y/N, part of him wishes that he could just spend more time with Y/N. He just wants to feel a spark again. Things are getting old with Jen, Y/N makes things feel new again.

Andy sits in the cathedral for a while and decides that he must tell Jen the truth. He calls his driver back and heads home to talk to Jen.

—----------------- Y/N’s POV —-----------------

You’ve been crying for what feels like an eternity. You look over at your alarm clock and it’s almost midnight. Your stomach growls and you realize that you haven’t eaten dinner. Suddenly, your phone vibrates and you see that Timmy is facetiming you. You start to panic. You don’t want Timmy to see you like this. You try to wipe the smeared mascara away from your face as best as you can and then you answer the phone.

“Hey, what are you doing? I wanna show you someth- whoa, Y/N are you okay?”

“Yeah, it’s just hay fever. Sorry, I wasn’t expecting you to call tonight.”

“It’s okay… Anything you wanna talk about?”

You pause for a moment. You aren’t sure if you should tell Timmy about Andy… What would Timmy think about you? What would he say?

“Today kinda sucked.”

“I can come over. I’ll bring Joe’s.”

“Thanks. Let me know when you’re here so I can buzz you in.”

After hanging up the phone, you immediately hop into the shower and freshen up. You do a bit of make-up as you wait for Timmy to arrive. Half an hour later, he texts you and you buzz him in. He enters your apartment, setting the pizza box down, and wraps his arms around you tightly as he lightly kisses you.

“Thanks for coming… you’re the only person I really wanted to be with today.”

“I love every minute I spend with you.”

Something about hearing Timmy say this brings tears to your eyes. This entire time you’ve been so caught up with the fantasy in your head about Andy that you couldn’t see that Timmy was right here this whole time… You weren’t ever going to have a real chance with Andy but there’s actually a real connection with Timmy and it can work.

Timmy sees how emotional you are.

“Hey, you wanna talk about it?”

You hesitate for a second. Should you tell Timmy about Andy? What if he gets angry about it? It’s not like you guys are exclusive but you don’t want to lose Timmy too, especially since you guys have started getting closer. He sees that you want to say something.

“It’s okay, you can tell me.”

“So… I was kinda seeing someone else.”

He pauses. He looks a bit surprised but not angry.

“Oh okay… I mean we weren’t official or anything.”

“Yeah, it doesn’t really matter now. We broke things off today, but it would’ve never worked out anyway.”

“I’m sorry?”

He says sort of confused as he doesn’t know how he should console you right now.

“Sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking…I really do like you and I want to be with you. I just think that we’ll have to do some work if we want this to happen but I’m willing to try.”

“Me too. I know I haven’t been the best at opening up… it’s just… I was in a relationship back in high school when my family lived in Italy. My parents would use our house to host exchange students and one summer, we had someone stay with us and… I ended up getting really close to this person. Things just didn’t really work out since they had to leave to go back home and it just kinda took a toll on me. Since then, I’ve been a little scared about giving all of myself to anyone, but I really like you Y/N and I want to be with you.”

“So, what now?”

“Let’s just see where it goes”

You and Timmy embrace each other. You spend the rest of the night eating pizza and cuddling. You feel happy to be with him as the uncertainty of being with Andy was weighing on your mind heavily and it feels nice to finally know that you have Timmy.

#timothee chalamet #timothée chalamet #timothée chalamet x reader #timothee x reader #timothee x y/n #new york city #nyc #timothee fanfic #timothee fic

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lixzey · 6 months

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forever yours.

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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strawberriescherrieskiwi · 10 months

Text

His Muse

Anon requests:

N/A

Wordcount: 2.9K+

Masterlist

Description: Willy had a setback and feeling defeat, luckily he can come home to his Flossy who always knows how to cheer him up. He couldn’t have asked for a better muse.

A/N: So no one asked this, but I saw the trailer and had to write this. It’s started sad but it has a happy ending. And can I just saw how excited I am for this film and Willy looks so happy, insane and I can’t want to see more of him. Also this is set in London in the 20s roughly.

Warning: Fluff, Angst, Smut, frantic and manic Wonka, slight talk of misogyny. pregnant reader.

Willy sighed as he walked down the street. His hat was tucked under his arm and his head was angled towards the ground. He didn’t like being defeated, being so bumped out, and hopeless, but that was exactly how he was feeling right now.

He has been denied again on a loan to open his own chocolate shop. He worked hard on this batch of chocolate and the bakers just laughed at him without even tasting it. How was he supposed to open his shop if they refused to take his product? He needed a shop to sell candy, but couldn’t get a shop without selling candy, but it was illegal to sell candy without a shop.

It was enough to make his head spin and not in a good way. He gnawed on his bottom lip until the pain and too much. Maybe it was time for him to give up on his pointless goal. Maybe he would get a normal job, he could be like his father and be a dentist, it would help his family.

At the thought of his family, he felt his eyes fill with tears. He would come home to his love a disappoint again. He never understood how she could stand by him when he offered no help to the family.

His sweet love, his candy cane, his chocolate delight, his muse. He sniffled as his home came into view. If you could call it that. It was a tiny home with barely enough room for a bedroom, bathroom, tiny kitchen, and a little basement area he’s been using as a workshop.

He wiped his eyes as he opened the front door of the home. “Flossy, I’m home,” he said with less excitement than you are used to.

You were standing at the stove making soup. You both have been eating a lot of soup these days but you never complained. You always smiled and said that soup was your favorite food, next to his sweets.

Willy made his way over to you, putting his hat on the rack along with his coat before wrapping his arms around your waist. He squeezed you softly and pressed a kiss to the back of your head.

“Rough day?” You asked softly. Your voice was like angels singing to Willy. He would listen to you and never tire of it. He often joked he wishes he could bottle up your voice and add it to his recipes to make his candy even sweeter.

“Rough day,” he repeated sadly.

Turning down the stove, you turned to face your husband. You’ve seen just about every side of Willy. His angry side, his happy side, his frantic and mad side, but you never seen him like this. Defeated with sad hidden green eyes. They normally shined like emeralds and danced with ideas, love, and wonder; But now they were dull, lifeless, and full of fear.

You cuffed his face. “My sweet Willy, what’s wrong my love?” You said.

He leaned into your touch, clothing his eyes briefly before they opened again. Willy grabbed your hands and kissed your left palm then your right. Determination filled his eyes as he looked back at you, but he still smiled sadly.

“I have been thinking,” he started walking away from you to set at one of the two mix-match chairs at your table.

“Oh,” you said wiping your hands on your apron and turning back to the soup, adding a bit more seasoning.

“Yes, I think we should turn the basement into the baby’s room. The babe can not stay in our room with us or at least not forever. I know the house is small so that is the best decision.”

Your furrowed your brows and glanced at him over your shoulder. “I don’t think the babe should be sleeping in your workshop.”

“Ah, but it won’t be my workshop. It will just be the babe's room. Maybe I can go tomorrow and see about getting some paint to paint a little mural for our little gumdrop.”

“Willy what about your work? Where will you do that?”

“In an office of course. I will get a job like a normal husband and work in an office. And after saving we can move to a better place.”

You sighed, turning to face your husband. Your hand fell to your small bump. You were barely showing with you been just over 3 months along. You walked to your husband, staring to kneel in front of him when he gave a shout and quickly got up and ushered you into his seat and he kneeled in front of you.

You smiled at his antics, patting his curls lovingly. He beamed up at you at your affection. A bit of light came back to his eyes, but still, the dark cloud lingered. Your smile turned sad. “Willy my love, if I want a normal husband, I would have married one of the men my father wanted me to,” you started, cupping his face.

“Why didn’t you? You could have had a better life?” he asked, he begin fiddling with the bottom of your apron.

“Because-” you turned his face towards yours. “-having a life with more money does not mean having a better life. I am happy with you, I love you, Willy Wonka.”

“I’m a failure,” he said, dropping his head to your lap. “I am a failure as a husband, as a businessman, as a chocolatier, I will be a failure as a father as well.” His tears fell heavily from his eyes.

“You are not a failure in any sense of the world, my love. You are brilliant, wonderful, and the kindest man I know. You had a setback. You are only a failure if you give up.”

“I must. I must. Our family needs more than what little I am able to earn. You have already lost two jobs because of me,” he sobbed into your legs.

Your first job once you married was at a local candy shop. With Willy actively trying to pursue the same business, your former boss, Arthur Slugworth, thought it was best you leave the shop.

Last month you lost your job waitressing when your boss learned of your pregnancy, stating it was for your own good to be home, nesting, and waiting for the birth. “Willy. I did not lose my job because of you. I lost my job because of other people’s issues. I have been having fun doing work with Mrs. Jonerson, learning the ends and out of the seamstress business. You know I always wanted to make clothes.”

He sniffled and nodded, turning his wet face toward you. “You made my lucky coat. I love it. It seems like home and made with love from my Flossy.”

You smiled back at him, wiping under his eyes. “Yes made with all the love in the world from your Flossy. Your Flossy who believes in you. Who knows you will have the biggest chocolate factory one day and your ideas and candy will reach all over the world.”

“It is a child’s dream.”

“It is your dream,” you stated. Not going to let him give up on the thing that makes him happiest.

“And what about your dream? You didn’t want this for your life. You deserve the world,” he said, hopelessly as he dramatically threw himself off of your legs and onto the floor.

He was spread out on the floor like a starfish and you giggled softly as you got on the floor and sat in his lap. His hands came up to grab your hips, but other than that, he didn’t move. “My world is you, my little dramatic chocolatier, our baby, and our lives. I want nothing more than that.”

Willy's eyes blinked at you in confusion, but wonder and love was creeping back into his gaze. “You must have a dream, you like designing is that not your dream?”

“When we met. We talked about dreams. How everything good in this world started with a dream. You said your mother used to tell you that and I thought it was perfect. I said my dream was to make clothes to make people happy, to fill them with love. I wanted my clothes to mean something to someone. Well, you wear my clothes, our child will wear my clothes, that is enough for me. My world will wear my clothes and love them, there is nothing more filling than that.”

Willy sat up slowly, pulling you tighter against him. “So your dream is to make clothes for our family?”

“Yes, or it used to be. Your dream is to make the world happy. To spread love and cheer through making your candy. And I love that dream, it has become my dream as well. My dream is for you to have your dream. Dreams are important. Do not give up.”

Willy cupped your face and kissed you deeply. “I love love love you, My Flossy. My sweet sweet Candy Floss,” he said, kissing all over your face frantically. “You are right? I can not give up. Giving up is not an option.” He kissed you once more, exploring your mouth with excitement.

He stood up with you in his arms. You quickly wrapped your arms around his neck and legs around his waist. He placed you on the counter and begin taking your clothes off your body. “Giving up is not the Wonka way. We will change the world with chocolate. With your clothing and my creation, we will add whimsy to the world.”

“There is the Willy, I know and love,” you said, pulling his clothes off and running your hands along his skin, loving being so close to him.

He shivered and grabbed your hips pulling you close as he sunk into you all at once. You winced slightly. “Willy. You are quite big remember to go slow,” you laughed, slapping his shoulder.

He blushed leaning down to capture your lips in an apology kiss. “I am sorry, Flossy. I just get so excited to be inside of you. I tend to lose my head.”

You kiss back, digging your fingers into his curls. “It is okay, I like your excitement, I love your cock and I love you,” you said, moaning as he pulled back out and then slammed back into you.

“Chocolate pudding you feel amazing,” he groaned, pistoling his hips quicker, spreading your legs wider so he could get deeper inside of you. “I want to live right here, between your legs.”

“Yeah? I would be so sore and drunk on your cock, my love,” you said, rocking against him. The things in the cabinet above your head started to shake and you were slightly worried something would fall on you, but also you were rather get hit than ask him to stop. “Please, Willy,” you begged.

“You beg, you know you never have to beg from your husband. All I am and have is yours,” he said, kissing along your neck, sucking in marks. “Shall I make a candy that feels like this? Feelings like being so deep inside of you. Like we are one?”

“I don’t think the public would be a fan of such a sexual chocolate flavor or feeling,” you moaned tugging his hair.

He whimpered at the pull of his hair, his cock throbbed and you knew he was close. “I suppose you are right, but maybe I can make a batch for just us,” he mused, biting into your neck as he lost his rhythm and cum painted your insides.

“Razzles, Flossy,” he moaned.

Willy’s hand came between your bodies stroking along your clit with his long and skillful fingers. You tightened around his cock and pulled harder on his hair as you came, fireworks dancing between your eyes.

Willy kissed your shoulders, moving to your breasts, and then back up to your lips. You kissed him back tiredly. He wrapped his arm around your waist and carried you to the bedroom and laid you down.

He left to get a washing cloth and cleaned you softly. “An orgasm feeling chocolate is a no-go as well?” He asked, putting a nightdress on you.

You laughed shaking your head as you fixed the dress once it was on you. “No, I don’t think so. Well, unless it is the feelings but not inducing one.”

His eyes lit up. “You are a genius my flossy,” he said, kissing you quickly. Then he leaned down and kiss your stomach. “And you, my gumdrop, will be sweet as sugar like your mother.”

“And father,” you added, smiling softly, getting up from the bed. “The soup is probably cold,” you said with a slight pout.

“It is alright,” he smiled, kissing your pout.

“But it was your favorite and you had a bad day.”

“And you have made it much better. I feel rejuvenated. I feel alive. I have so many ideas, I must go work on,” he said, bouncing up and out of the room.

You followed after him, though you walked, but couldn’t help but be happy to see him back to his old self. “Do not work too hard, Mr. Wonka. Your wife would like to have dinner with you when it is warm.”

“Working too hard is in my blood, but I’ll be back to eat with my sweetest of sweets,” he said, bouncing back to your side. He grabbed your waist, dipping you and kissing you until your vision blurred from lack of oxygen.

When he left you up, he spun you a few times and you fell into his chest. “Willy you will be the death of me,” you said, shaking your head and patting his curls as you untangled yourself from him and went to the stove.

“Nonsense. Never. I would never dream of being the death of the one that breathes life into me,” he wrapped himself around you, but you swatted him away.

“Work Willy, work,” you reminded him laughing.

“Another round is out of the question them?” He asked, his hands moving to pull your dress up.

You laughed. “Another round can wait. You, my genius chocolatier need to work, and I need to warm the soup and my privates need a break.”

“Ah, right again. I will work and give you a break, but,” He pressed himself against you and whispered in your ear. “Tonight you will have no break. Tomorrow you’ll be sore. Maybe I’ll work on a candy to relieve pain for my sweet,”

You flushed. “Willy Wonka, enough,” you said, trying to slow down your racing heart.

He chuckled, pressing another kiss to your cheek. “I do love seeing you like this, I will hurry back to return to you.”

“Do not rush. It seems I will need all the respite I can get.”

His laughter echoed around your small home as he opened the door to the basement and disappeared inside.

30 minutes later you poured the soup into two bowls, toasted some bread, and made your way down the ladder to get into Willy’s shop. You were silent as you walked, but it wouldn’t have made a difference as he was buzzing around the room with his notepad writing down things, mumbling to himself, and grabbing ingredients.

You watched him for a few minutes before shaking your head and setting the bowls down on one of the tables and making your way over to him, grabbing his hand as he buzzed by. He stopped at once blinking at you as if unsure if he was seeing you or not.

You couldn’t help but laugh, it was the same look he gave you in the morning as he was coming out of dreamland. “Darling are you back with me,” you said, patting his curls.

His eyes roamed over your face for a few seconds before he smiled softly and goofily his eyes glowing with wonder. “There is the woman I love most. My forever muse, the love of my life,” he said wrapping his arms around your waist picking you up and spinning you both. “After our talk, I’ve come up with 16 new ideas and I know they won’t be able to ignore me anymore,” He said with wide eyes.

You allowed him to spin you around before, tapping his shoulder. “You’re making me dizzy, Willy,” you said and he quickly set you on your feet.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, smothering you in kisses but you just shook your head and kissed his nose.

“I am excited to hear all your new ideas,” you said, grabbing his hand and pulling him over to the small table.

“And taste them right? You are my favorite taste tester,” he added.

You didn’t point out that you were his only one. “Of course, I haven’t had a bad piece of candy from you ever. I am always eager to try me,” you said, setting the bowl down in front of him.

He crossed his legs and pulled the bowl into his lap. “And that is why I could never be more grateful to you. For putting up with my antics.”

“Your antics are my favorite part of you, Willy. There is never a dull moment in this house,” you said.

Willy grinned widely at your comment. “I am glad. Life is more enjoyable with excitement, don’t you agree?”

You nodded grabbing your own bowl of soup. “Yes, I agree. Now tell me about these ideas.”

Taglist.

@gatoenlaciudad

@iloveneilperry

@valencia-rou

@s-we-e-t-t-ea

@robertpattins0nswh0re

#timothée chalamet #timothee chalamet imagine #timothee chalamet imagines #timothee chalamet x reader #timothee x reader #wonka #willy wonka fics #willy wonka x reader #timothee chalamet smut

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timchalamet-devoted · 1 year

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A lover's confessions

A/N: I've been gone for so long 🥲 But I did manage to write something for you guys.

Summary: The reader finds a letter-filled box in the floor of the wardrobe. As curiosity takes over, they start reading through them.

Pairing: fem reader x Timothée

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You had just made it past the front door exhausted and muscles aching. You dropped the keys onto the kitchen counter with a loud clang and kicked off your shoes, sighing with relief. You noted that the house seemed quiet, so you assumed that Timothée hadn't finished filming yet.

Knowing he would be gone for the next couple of hours, you decided to run a bath, an excellent way to ease body.

Once finished, you wrapped yourself up in a towel, and headed to the kitchen, grabbing some leftovers from yesterday before settling down on the couch.

You unlocked the phone, the time displayed on the screen. Only half an hour had passed.

Exasperated at the lack of his presence, you concluded that watching something would be the easiest way to kill time, and yet eventually, you got bored of that too.

2 hours later, and still the door remained shut. By now, your body felt cold, and as much as you enjoyed time to yourself, you were desperate to hold him in your arms.

You remembered the hoodie of his that you managed to nick a while back, and hopped off the couch, trudging to your empty master bedroom. Upon reaching it, you made a beeline for the drsser, only to find that it wasn't there.

You checked the wardrobe next, once again disappointed. However, just before you were about to close the doors, something on the flooring of the wardrobe caught your eye; a crack you thought.

Knowing that you may have been conceived by the dim lighting, you kneeled down to inspect further. Yes, you were right! It was a crack. Carefully, you slotted your fingers into the opening and hooked them around the wood, prying it upwards. To your delight, it gave in quite easily, revealing a hollow underneth, with a single box inside. You reached in, extracting the box and placing it on the floor beside you.

You pulled the lid off, a quizzical expression crossing your face. The box was filled to the brim with paper. Specifically, letters.

You picked one up, beginning to read, and instantly, your jaw dropped.

You had come to the realisation that these were letters written by Timothée, and even better? They were addressed to you.

You read on, curiosity flowing through your being.

' My dear Y/n,

Will it ever be possible to put into perspective how much I love you? It's a crazy cacophony of feelings, and an intricate pattern carefully woven, all of it, all at once. It seems your name has found itself deep into my heart, clutching it, never letting go. It seems as though your name had been etched on, as permanent as forever.'

Tears were beginning to swell in your eyes at his words

'The pure joy you make me feel is uncompramisable; it's the most magnificent thing how you can simply smile, and everything seems to fade away. My pain. My worries. Everything.

A simple touch of your skin has the power to soothe even the deepest of cuts and heal the most brocken of souls.

You picked up another letter

'Oh, mon amour, my star. You are the moon that guides through the darkness. Oh, how could I ever live without you?

They say you don't start living until you meet your true love, and I think what they say is true. You've filled my world with some much love, so much light, and purpose that I never knew about. My world has grown and flew and flourished, and all with you by my side.

I call you my better half, for you are all the things that I will never be, although I hope that one day I'll be half as good as you are.

To this day, it doesn't quite fall into place in my mind, how I got so lucky to be with you. You are an angel on earth, and me? Your faithful follower. You've made me the happiest man alive, my y/n.

And another.

'I watched you today. I couldn't help but stare; my eyes just didn't seem to want to look away. I wanted to study every feature, memorise it all. You looked so peacuful, so at ease, so beautiful. The moonlight shone on your skin perfectly, creating an iridescent glow. I could see every freckle. There were 17. I counted.

With your eyes half closed, I could still see the vivid colours, full with love for me.

A gentle smile played on your lips, wamring my heart. You looked like heaven itself, and all I wanted to do was to hold you in my arms for all eternity, melted together, souls as one.

You heard the keys jingle, instantly dropping the papers from your grasp, letting them fall to the floor.

You tripped over yourself, fingers fumbling in a poor attempt to conceal the box once more. However, to your dismay, Timothée walked in just a second too soon, eyes latching on the cardboard box in your hand.

You witnessed his eyes widening in horror, face reddening instantly.

He parted his lips as if to speak, yet when no sound came out, closed them into a tight line.

He buried his face in his hands, concealing his embarrassed expression.

He mumbled something into his palms, completely incomprehensible. You reached out a hand, gently stroking his shoulder, moving to his hair to comb through his curls.

Despite your compassion towards Timothée, you had to admit you found his flustered state incredibly sweet.

Finally, he let his hands fall to his sides, peering at you from underneath his chocolate curls.

A small smile spread across his face, mirrored by your own, which then turned into a chuckle and then into hysterical laughter.

You were glad rhat he found this situation as amusing as you: finding love letters hidden under the wardrobe floorboards was quite a laugh.

Once you calmed down, he spoke up.

" I- Oh god, it's so embarrassing! No one even writes letters anymore."

"Hey, Timmy I think it's tremendously cute. Truly, I love them."

"Really?" He seemed to relax slightly at your words, but still evidently quite self-conscious.

"Goodness, yes Timothée! Actually, it's the loveliest thing anyone's ever done fore me."

At this, his demeanour changed entirely, suddenly leaping at you, embracing you in a tight hold.

#timothee #timothee chalamet #timothée #timothée chalamet #timothee x y/n #timothee imagine #timothee x reader #timothee fic

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bonesandchalamet · 11 months

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poolside- t.chalamet

masterlist

pairing: Timothee chalamet x fem!reader

warnings: hints of nsfw ideas + mentions of leaving hickeys and sexual thoughts + kind of a cliff hanger(?)

the summer heat is thick. with the air being stale, and the temperatures rising along the coasts of California, you’re bound to jump in that crystal blue pool any moment.

it’s a summer vacation, away from work and time with friends. it’s a vacation for the young 20-something year olds, where the alcohol flows and the tan lines form in the unbearable heat of California.

he’s watching from afar, on the top deck of the pool. he lays against his chair, allowing the warm rays to glisten his skin. it’s impossible for him to relax with the giggling of your friend group, but he doesn’t mind. he’s got his eyes on you, watching you stumble across the deck, sing the lyrics to your favorite songs, and mess with the material of your skimpy bikini bottoms.

after at least an hour of watching you out the corner of his eye, he toughens up, making his way down the stairs to the pool. all eyes are on him, they range from young girls to older women, he doesn’t mind the stares, your eyes are the only ones he wants on him.

you glance over from your phone when he walks by. the small pink swim trunks are a little baggy on his waist, but it’s a beautiful color against his skin. you can’t help but look a little longer, his curls bounce with each step as he sinks into the cool water of the pool.

you find yourself following his lead. getting into the pool yourself, the cool water hitting your skin makes you shiver, but you sink further in despite the shock and chill reactions your body is giving.

“cold?” he asks moving closer to you, his knee nudges yours. you just nod and swallow, you’re so intimidated by his beauty up close. those beautiful big eyes, thick bouncy curls, and a dashing smile.

“don’t need to be shy, love.” a smirk forms his lips as he moves a bit closer to your body, more than legs are just touching now, “I don’t bite.” his mouth hovers your ear, his hot minty breath sends a shiver down your spine making you, unconsciously, pull yourself closer to him.

“what does that mouth do then?” you ask, the thought wandered your mind, it gave you no time to filter through before saying it. heat rushing to your cheeks once the words flow into the air.

“lots of things.” the pair are like a ghost over your skin, you can feel them but it’s so faint. he’s waiting for a signal of approval from you, the green light to really show you.

“show me.” your whispered plea sounds like a moan. his lips ghost your neck once again, this time instead of pulling away they land softly against the coconut scented sunscreen skin, teeth sucking softly against you. your arms wrap around his neck to pull him closer to you, “do that again.” you whisper in his ear, your own lips faint against his skin now.

he does as you ask, soft sweet moan escapes your lip into his ear, it’s so silent, not even your own drunk friends could’ve heard it, but it was just loud enough for him, “been watching you,” he says in between breaths, lips moving closer to your breasts, “you’re beautiful.”

you chuckle, eyes closing, feeling his lips touch a sensitive parts of your skin, lips move closer to your nipple, where the cloth covers you, “not here.” you say, watching those big eyes flicker up at you, full of lust and begging for more, “later.”

his smile turns into a smirk once again, “there’s a later?”

“there’s always a late night dip.” your finger tips graze his sharp jawline before you finally pull away and climb out the pool. he’s left with nothing but a hard cock and excitement for midnight.

#timothee chalamet #timothee blurb #timothee x you #timothee fanfic #timothee imagine #timothee smut #timothee chalamet fluff #timothee fluff #timothee chalamet x you #timothee x reader #timothee chalamet fanfiction #timothee chalamet fanfic #timothee chalamet x reader #timothee chalamet fic #timothee x y/n #timothee x oc #timothee chalamet imagine #timothee chalamet imagines #timothee fic

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houseofchalamet · 1 year

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Dating Timmy - Random Headcanons

He always eats and leaves crumbs in the bed, so... enjoy that🙃

When he's sick, you bring him anything he wants, cuddle him, and rub his back.

And he does the same for you.

When you can't sleep at night, he'll sing to you. Whatever song you want.

Except Statistics.

And Yeet.

Sometimes when you shower, he'll sit on the bathroom floor like a puppy because he just wants to be with you.

His love language is physical touch, so he always wants to kiss and hug and cuddle.

It doesn't even have to be romantic touching, it can be something as small as your knees brushing while you're sitting next to each other. Just so he knows you're near him.

When you sit on the floor and do your makeup in the full length mirror, he'll sit and hug you from behind. Sometimes he'll rest his head on your shoulder and watch you through the mirror. It's especially cute early in the morning, when his hair is messy and he's blinking at you sleepily.

Sometimes he'll let you put some blush or lip gloss on him. He's adorable.

He knows you love his hair, so he lets you do whatever you want with it. Pigtails, braids, buns... One night, he let you straighten it.

You then realized that you'd made a huge mistake and forced him to wet it so it would curl again🫣

He holds your undershirt down for you when you take his your hoodies off.

You're both very private but your relationship definitely isn't a secret.

You're both extremely busy, but you try to have date night at least once a week.

It doesn't always have to be going out somewhere; sometimes it's just sitting at the table and playing a board game, baking something, or watching a movie in bed.

Just as long as you're together.

He likes to match his outfits to yours.

On the red carpet, but also just in daily life.

He's not a jealous person because he trusts you so much and he knows you'll never do anything to hurt him.

So he loves showing you off.

He's always weird about sharing his problems because of who he is; he feels like other people have it so much worse and he should just be grateful and not complain.

So he just acts like everything is fine, even when its not.

And of course, you know him better than anyone, so you know when something is bothering him.

It can take a while to coax it out, but eventually, he'll be honest and you can help him work through it.

He feels like you always know the right thing to say. He loves that about you.

You're more "online" than he is and you like to see what people say about him. His fans are so hilarious and creative. He likes it when you read funny tweets about him. He can see all the good stuff posted about him without having to sift through the hate; you're his own personal filter.

You get him into shitty reality TV.

He doesn't see the appeal at first, but after a few episodes, he's picking sides and needing to know what happens on Real Housewives of New Jersey.

Speaking of TV, he's very good at guessing the Masked Singers.

Like he gets it right almost every time.

Sometimes when you're sad, he'll do Pennywise's dance from It to make you laugh.

It never gets old.

He has a hundred notes in his phone with random things you've said. It's usually just a song or snack you mentioned in passing and he wants to remember it for later investigation.

You both start to use the same slang, phrases and references. You're literally the same person.

And sometimes no one else gets your references but you and Timmy. So one of you will say something and you'll both just die laughing while the rest of the room looks at you like wtf..

He's very good at taking Instagram photos and he loves to gas you up.

"Oooohh damn, you're so hot. Yes, do that! That's my (girl/guy)!"

The whole time he's looking at the phone and giving you the thumbs up like a proud mom videoing her child's dance recital.

He likes to open your car door for you.

He can be forgetful when he's stressed out.

"Timmy, your phone is in your hand."

"Timothee, your sunglasses are on your head."

No matter where you are, you like to watch the sunset together.

Sometimes you'll sneak a quote of something miniscule he said in a movie or smth into a normal conversation and he'll cringe.

Him: "Teresa is going to prison on RHONJ😧"

You: "I can do prison."

Him: "eufheufh why are you like this?"

You're his person🥺

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motherofdogs1010 · 2 months

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Of Messiahs and Seeds I (Dark!Paul Atreides x Reader)

Summary: Emperor Paul of House Atreides has set forth with expansion of his empire on the planets that have resisted and has now come across the last stronghold that resists him: Terra Millennium...

Warnings: eventual 18+, dark!fic, eventual forced marriage, eventual NONCON, eventual pregnancy, dark!Paul Atreides, more to come as story progresses

A/N: Reader is inspired by Daenarys Targaryen with dragons and Sailor Moon's Silver Crystal lol, so I hope you all enjoy!! Terra is similar to Earth, I imagined Lord York to be Tyrion Lannister so please picture that

😈 Dividers by @firefly-graphics 😈 Banner by @vase-of-lilies

Part II

"Terra Millennium stands as a enomely in the universe for their rejection against the Empire", the hologram records said. "A two-century long battle was waged for the planet through the Great Houses yet the people won through the help of someone they have since called 'The Conqueror'."

Paul had heard of the Terra Millennium, their planet one of lush greenery, vast oceans and an abundance of resources that the previous Emperor had tried countless times to harvest just as House Harkonnen had done with the Spice on Arrakis, but alas, no one had ever been successful in mining Terra Millennium. He had heard that they experience something called 'seasons', he wondered what that was.

Just as he had done with Arrakis, Paul sat in his private room, watching hologram clips of Terra Millennium as his fleet flew to the planet to finally land conquest through the help of the Fremen.

"Anthropologists have never been able to stay long on the planet or among the people, but what has been gathered is the people have rejected the teachings of the Bene Gesserit, labeling it as hertic literature."

Terra Millennium was an odd planet with an odd people who had unusually long live spans, being able to live into their thousands without a single wrinkle or grey, they repented against the Bene Gesserit, the use of the Spice; he had heard of the people of that land believing solely in the ruling Queens because of a crystal, one of immense power that was sought after.

"Characterized by their white hair, the ruling House of L/N have upheld the traditional values of the planet, which has a population of over 1 billion. Only female heirs have been able to inherit the throne and it is rumored that a single crystal that is worn by every ruling Queen is said to hold immense power that has granted its people longevity, peace and prosperity."

A knock interrupted his research, Paul seeing Stilgar walk in followed by Gurney.

"Muad'Dib, we have touched land on Terra Millennium", Stilgar said, "they have responded to our communication message."

"What did they say?" he asked, Gurney chuckled.

"They said if we proceed with our mission, they will see it as an act of war", Gurney said, "they're real hard asses here."

"You've been, Gurney?" Paul asked, curious.

"Once", Gurney replied, "I came with your father on a diplomatic assignment, but that was with their previous Queen Helene. This one is new, just coronated a few months ago."

He thought back to the new dreams he had been having of a woman whose hair was the color of white that hung down near the ground in large curls, whose eyes were hard and the color of lilac with the roar of a great beast that rung in his ears when he would awaken from his dreams.

Unlike his dreams with Chani, these felt different now that he had drunken the Water of Life. His visions of the woman consisted of a gentle breeze sweeping through her hair, it curling around her as she was dressed in a long, white silk dress that clung to her body and trailed in a long train behind her with woven golden in the upper bodice. She stood on a tall pillar of crystal, a tall scepter in her hands that she was raising above her head as the breeze picked up.

Soon, the dreams melted in a great war as crystals encapsulating him, a bright light that blinded him yet filled him with warmth and security.

"Show them the full might of the Empire", Paul said, "after all, they are in the presence of the Muad'Dib."

And it was those eyes that greeted him when he finally set foot on the pavement of Terra Millennium with its tall structures that were made of variously colored crystals.

Neo-Queen Amaris was the regal name Y/N had chosen to go by when she took the throne a mere few months ago. Of course, she went by her name, Y/N in private with those closets to her and only by her regal name with others.

Y/N had heard the rumors of the new Emperor wanting to claim her home, her people; he wanted to bring her planet into the vastly growing empire that he ruled under as a supposed Messiah to the Fremen and Bene Gesserit: Muad'Dib. Everyone had heard of how he supposedly liberated Arrakis and the Fremen people, marrying Princess Irulan as a political move to secure his position as the new Emperor.

Only a few days ago did a message come into their Communication's Hub from the Emperor about finally claiming Terra Millennium for not only himself but for the Fremen as it would be their 'Green Paradise'.

War will come to Terra Millennium if you refuse to submit, the message read.

"My Queen", her advisor, Lord York, said as she sat on her throne. "Reports have come in that the Atreides fleet has made contact on the landing pad near the Capital. Scouts have seen the Atreides Army beginning to get ready."

Lord York was a man of small stature with a head full of bronze curls and dark brown eyes that always looked calculated as if he was already ten steps ahead.

Y/N looked over at Lord York before bringing a hand to the crystal that hung around her neck on a chain that could never be removed from her neck before slowly standing up from her throne that was encrusted in gemstones.

"I believe it is time we greet them", she said, looking over her court. "After all, hospitality is what our people are known for."

And it is not like they have any chance of having their weapons working; outside weaponry not from Terra M had no chance of working and she wondered what their reactions would be once they realized this.

"But before we go", Lord York said, "may I make a suggestion?"

Y/N made a motion to the man, who gave a nod and said, "I believe it is our Queen's best interest to wear your ancestor, The Conqueror's crown and scepter to greet our guests. It would show the great strength you possess, a message to not only the Great Houses but the Emperor as well."

"That sounds like a great idea."

"You are the presence of our Neo-Queen", a man said with a thick facial beard, "first of her name, descendant of our goddess Selene and The Conqueror, wielder of the great Silver Crystal, Mother of all, Neo-Queen Amaris."

Paul watched as the man motioned to the woman he had been dreaming about, he could see that as the breeze came that she wore no shoes; all the Terrians didn't despite their silken clothes as they stood amongst the tall crystal structures. They had landed as close to the Capital, finding that there was a landing pad despite the relatively isolated nature of the planet.

"I welcome you, Paul of House Atreides", she said with a stoic expression. "But now you must leave."

The woman, their Queen Amaris, looked upon them with a hint of annoyance as she held a large scepter in one hand that was as tall as Duncan Idaho had been with gold and gem embellishments, but what was curious was that at the top of the scepter where it looked as if a missing piece was needed. The crown she wore on her head was large, glittering in diamonds and curved up into a point as she stood there, her hair having a few small braids that pulled the framing hair away with kiss curls on her forehead.

"Leave?" Paul said with some amusement.

Irulan stood next to him dressed in a silver mesh outfit, a metal hair net that connected over into her dress that held down her short blonde hair. Paul was glad that he Voiced the woman to stop talking, she would not stop and frankly, he had no desire to try and pursue a romantic relationship with the woman after Chani chose to leave further into Arrakis.

His mother stood amongst them, holding the bundled form of his sister, Alia.

"I did not realize a Emperor could have poor hearing", Amaris said, "you are not welcome on Terra Millennium nor do we plan on allowing for you to colonize us. Terra M remains alone."

Paul took in the way she spoke, her accent one he had never heard before and the formal way of speaking. He noticed the large gem that hung around her neck, it sparkled in the sunlight as she stood there and looked to be the size of a her palm.

"Also, we did not apperciate your Bene Gesserit coming", she continued, "spreading their heretic language, you will find them in the Prisoner's Bay."

"You don't believe in the Muad'Dib, the Kwisatz Haderach?" Paul asked.

"We believe in our Queen, may her reign be as prosperous as Selene", the bearded man said.

The Queen just looked at him with contempt, he saw her lip curl a little in annoyance.

And it was that look that made something stir deep in Paul and made him feel something that he never felt before. She looked at him as if he was a bug ready to be squashed underneath her foot

He wanted to possess the woman in front of him, at all costs and he didn't care who he had to kill... he was going to.

#paul atreides #paul atredies x reader #dune #dune x reader #x reader #reader insert #timothee chalamet #chubby reader #smut #dune imagine #dune part two #dune part ii #duneimagine #dark!fic #dark!paulatreides #yandere #yanderexreader

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missjadesfics · 1 month

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We Made An Agreement

Paul Atreides x Reader x Duncan Idaho Request: Yes Summary: Paul and Reader are in an arranged marriage, agreeing they can sleep with whoever they want. The reader finds comfort with Duncan. Eventually, Paul begins to question whether the agreement works for him anymore. Reader has she/her pronouns Warnings: Smut, 18+ MDNI, soft sex, public sex, Paul being a bit touch starved, one-sided love, unsaid feelings Word Count: 1,7k Text in bold italics are flashbacks Disclaimer: I don't own Dune or its characters, nor do I claim them as my own. Comments likes, and reblogs are always adored and appreciated xx

The arranged marriage between Y/n and Paul was made when they were born. Neither wanted to be married to one another, but after their wedding, they agreed they could sleep with whoever they wanted. Over her time in Caladan, Y/n became adored by the people, Paul’s father and mother, and Leto and Jessica were more than impressed with how well Y/n fit in with their family. She attended council meetings, aided Paul and Leto with political arrangements, and educated herself with books under Jessica’s watchful eye. However, Y/n had also taken up the agreement on her end and found comfort with the Atreides sword master. Duncan Idaho. The older man was also watching her from afar, and she often caught his glances, his lust-filled stares, as she would smirk at him. Once, she wore conservative clothing, but when she came into her own, she changed more and became more daring. Her dresses would show more cleavage, and her once shy nature bloomed into a sultry maiden. And Duncan certainly took notice, but so did Paul. He, too, began to question whether their arrangement worked anymore. It had been months into their marriage and Paul did not sleep with anyone like he said he would. He couldn’t bring himself to do it. And he didn’t think his wife was either. How wrong he was.

Y/n remembered that one evening when the Atreides hosted a ball as the great houses came to Caladan. Y/n and Paul greeted everyone with an adoring smile and presented themselves as picture-perfect husband and wife. Paul would shower Y/n with compliments and affection in front of the other Lords and Ladies, making them awe in response. Y/n felt Duncan’s burning stare as she slowly slipped away from Paul and went to the back of the room. Duncan followed behind her as she slid into the dark hallway out the door. Duncan looked around, checking the hall for anyone and saw Y/n look over her shoulder. Grinning, Duncan trailed behind her to her private chambers. Duncan pushed her against the wall. “Fuck, this is wrong”, he mumbled Y/n smiled, wrapping her leg around him. “Paul and I agreed; we are married but don’t have to worry about committing to each other. Duncan chuckled. “And what makes you think you can handle a man like me, little one?” He growled, his lips brushing hers Y/n grinned, bringing him closer. “Because you are the only one who occupies my thoughts every day. My dreams at night. I wonder what feeling your lips and fingers on my skin would be like. Your body pressed against mine, our bodies tangled together as you made love to me. Or fuck me, whichever you would prefer.” She whispered. Duncan closed his eyes, breathing heavily and hearing her words; Y/n kissed his neck sensually, rolling her hips on his. “I imagine you could bring a woman endless pleasure, Duncan, your fingers, your mouth, your cock. You are the only man that makes me nervous, and your deep voice makes me wet. I’ve ached for you, Duncan. I know you feel the same way about me. Don’t you want to find out, don’t you want me? I want you,” She breathed in his ear, her lips sucking his skin below his ear. Duncan shuddered, burying his face in her neck, rutting his hips, growling. “Fuck”, he pulled away and gripped her hair in his hand. “You temptress”, he grinned, kissing her fiercely, his tongue swiping her bottom lip, pleading for entrance Y/n granted him, her fingers tugging at the roots of his hair. Pulling him closer, breathing him in. Absorbing him. Duncan kissed her jaw, and Y/n moaned, her head thrown back on the cool marble wall. “Duncan”, She breathed. Duncan chuckled, pulling away his nose pressed to hers, his hand disappearing between her thighs, feeling she had no underwear on her arousal coated his fingers. He laughed. “You knew”, he whispered Y/n bit her lips, chasing his lips and capturing another kiss. Duncan fumbled with his belt and pulled his pants down slightly, releasing his hard cock. “Forgive me, we are in a hallway”, he told her quickly Y/n shook her head. “I don’t care, need to feel you”, she whispered as Duncan lined himself up to her wet entrance. Swallowing nervously, Y/n moaned, feeling Duncan’s cock slowly slide in, filling her. He was large, stretching her open and kissing him roughly. Duncan swallowed her moans as he bottomed out. Filling her to the base of his cock he began to thrust; Y/n whimpered at the sensation.

“You are so tight. Does your husband of yours even know how to fuck you? Hmm? Could he satisfy you on your wedding night?” Duncan smirked, feeling cocky as he listened to Y/n’s gasps of pleasure shaking her head. “Not compared to you, Duncan” she whispered. The sword master grinned. “Don’t worry, little one. I’ll look after you,”

Y/n blinked upon hearing her name. She looked at Leto, who raised a brow. “I’m sorry, my Lord Duke”, she murmured, apologising as he smiled. “We were just discussing how to handle this upcoming proposal meeting with the Emperor”, Leto told her as Y/n looked over the paper. “Well, it seems logical to observe his proposal, perhaps have him come here. At least then, if any attempts of the meeting go wrong, you are in your own home. He can’t hide from you here,” She said as Gurney nodded. “I like it, My Lord; she speaks a good term if the Emperor truly wishes to expand his interest in you being the steward of Arrakis. It would be wise to have him come here.” Leto nodded, thinking about his decision. “I’ll think about it; should the matter arise any further, I will decide then,” he stood up and dismissed everyone in the room. Y/n walked down the hall. Paul walked beside her, and he smiled lightly. “You were excellent in the meeting, and my father is impressed. As am I,” He complimented Y/n and thanked him as they walked together; Paul gingerly brushed his hand against hers in hopes she would notice. But she didn’t seem to; his heart broke; he regained his composure with a smile on his face. “There are some new books we haven’t read together yet. Would you like to accompany me to the library?” He asked as Y/n sighed, feeling a gaze on her back as she smiled softly. “Maybe not today. I’m feeling a little tired. Maybe tomorrow?” She asked him. Paul nodded a sad smile on his face, clearing his throat. “Of course I understand.” He held back his tears as Y/n walked to her chambers; Paul breathed and whispered, “What must I do to get you to see me?”

Y/n turned down another hall as she neared her chambers when she felt two strong arms wrap around her. Duncan pulled her into her room, closing the door; he picked her up in his arms, kissing her roughly. “Your dress was showing too much”, he growled as he laid her on the bed Y/n smiled. “But it did get your attention; I was thinking about our first night together, you and I, in the hall”, she giggled as Duncan grinned, spreading her legs as he slid between them. He removed his belt and pants, his fingers pulling down her underwear, anxious to feel her around his cock. Pressing his body into hers, he entered her in one hard thrust. Both moaning loudly at the feeling, Y/n threw her head back on the pillow, breathing in his scent as she felt his body cover hers, enveloping her. His grunts and growls sent shivers through her body as he set a merciless pace. His hunger for her was overbearing; every day and night, they would throw themselves in a throe of passion.

The ravenous sounds of the lovers echoed in the chambers, the sound of skin slapping skin as Duncan pounded into the wife of Paul Atreides. Y/n’s back arched, her skin hot under Duncan’s gaze, his forehead pressed to hers as he breathed heavily. His lips brushed hers. Duncan gripped her dress and ripped it off her body, his mouth attached to her breast Y/n gripped his shoulders tightly, her legs wrapped around his torso, screaming in ecstasy. “Fuck Duncan, baby, you are so big filling me. Please don’t stop,” She pleaded pathetically. Duncan chuckled, kissing her cheek. “I’ve got you, little one; you take me so well. Perfect for me,” he purred, his green eyes piercing into hers. His hips grinding into hers, Y/n tugged at Duncan’s shirt as he pulled it over his head. Y/n’s hands trailed down his chest, feeling his muscles tense with each thrust. She looked down, seeing his cock piston in and out of her at a fast pace. Duncan intertwined his fingers with Y/n’s near her head, panting, his head pressed to hers. “My love, where do you want me to finish?” he grunted Y/n pulled him closer, whispering against his mouth, “Inside me, please” “ she begged. Duncan blinked gently as he felt guilty for a moment. Did he really want to rob Paul of the chance of having a child of his own? For months now, Duncan had been in an affair with Y/n, but no one knew it was hidden. So, if she were to be pregnant, they would assume it was Paul’s. Duncan grinned, kissing her once more, nodding. “Okay, if that is what you truly want”; he gripped her waist tightly in his other hand, rutting into her harshly Y/n mewled underneath him, her orgasm rippling through her core as her walls clenched around him. Duncan moaned loudly, his hips faltering as he came inside her, his body shaking. Y/n wrapped her arms around him both closing their eyes and breathing heavily.

Unknown to them, Paul stood outside the door, wanting to tell her he had changed his mind about the arrangement and express the feelings he had developed. But he froze when he heard Y/n and Duncan; he closed his eyes, a small tear escaping as he sniffled. Walking away, he returned to his room and sat on his bed. Crying softly, he placed his face in his hands, and his sobs turned louder.

“How can I fix this?”

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#smut #dune #dune part two #duncan idaho #dune smut #jason momoa #timothee chalamet #paul atreides x reader #duncan idaho x reader #my fic #missjadesfics

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chamiltonslilcumslut · 2 years

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⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★ Standing Reservation: Chapter 2 ★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆

✦ timothée x femme reader

✦ word count: 1322

✦ warnings: 18+, suggestive themes

If the next twenty-four hours happened, you sure can’t remember them. You’re back in Timmy’s kitchen sipping wine just like yesterday, and you can’t pay the past any matter. Right now, it's just you and Timmy. The sky is dark, but his eyes light up the space between the two of you. It isn’t until you catch a glance at your purple NYU sweatshirt on the coat hook that you remember that the University Town Hall Meeting is tomorrow morning. You will present in front of the whole student body and University President Andy Hamilton.

You wake up in Timmy’s bed to the sun on your face after a weekend of fantastic sex, glowing like never before. Energized and refreshed, you head straight for the auditorium. What a way to start your last year at NYU.

Swarmed by anxious jitters, you make your way up to the stage. After a deep inhale, you jump right into what you rehearsed. So far, the presentation is off to a great start. But there is no denying that something feels off. You can’t help but notice President Hamilton’s eyes on you. The room is filled with two-hundred of the school’s top executives but you swear there’s only two people—you and Andy. For the rest of your speech, you speak directly to him. Only once you hear the roaring applause are you jolted back to reality. You aren’t in the right mind to appreciate it. Instead, you go back to your seat in a daze and wait for the meeting to proceed.

After what feels like a lifetime, all of the speakers are finished. You stand up, accepting congratulations from your fellow students. As you Grubhub Kimmel, you feel a tap on your shoulder. President Hamilton has made his way over to you with a smile. He commends you on your presentation: I was really moved by what you had to say. I’d love for you to stop by my office so we can discuss this later. Stunned, you maintain your composure: With all due respect President, I don’t want this to be all talk. I have the data. I have the information. All I need is action from the administrators. Are you gonna do something or is this just sweet talk? To say Andy was taken aback is an understatement. He couldn’t recall the last time a student spoke to him in such a manner. He comes back at you with the same tenacity: Well if you’re so certain about your plan, I’m sure you’ll have no trouble convincing me to enact it in my office.

Throughout the day, your mind wanders ceaselessly. You are unable to focus on anything, save for President Hamilton’s merciless tone. If you’re so certain about your plan? Please! Did he even hear you speak? I’m sure you’ll have no trouble convincing me to enact it in my office. He heard you there in the auditorium. Why does he need you in his office? In my office. In my office. In my office. In my office. The day seems like it’ll never end. In my office. In my office. The words repeat themselves in your head even as you approach that one infamous room.

At last, you walk toward his secretary. Before a word can escape you, she speaks: He’s waiting for you. Walk right in. You head down the short hallway, and give his door a tentative knock. He utters just one word: Enter. You gently push the door open and slowly walk toward President Hamilton. He stands to greet you. You go in for a handshake, but he gives you a tight embrace, and, with it, a whiff of his tantalizing scent. You quickly come to the realization that he towers over you. As he releases, you stumble backwards. For a brief moment before he grabs your wrists to steady you, you are hit with the hard truth that nothing is certain in this life. That everything-–you, Andy, Timmy, all of it—is finite. You take a second to remember why you're there. Without further hesitation, you go into student-president mode. You pull out your iPad and present like the future of this institution rests on your shoulders. You make sure there is no flaw in your argument or gap in your knowledge. You lay out every ounce of information you have plainly for him to see. There was no way to deny it—you were absolutely right. Your four years at this school all led up to this one meeting.

You may have been a little overly ambitious. It isn’t until Hamilton's stomach rumbles that you realize the sun has set. Hastily, you regroup. I’m so sorry, President Hamilton. I didn’t mean to keep you for so long. Behind the President’s no-nonsense exterior, you notice a slight grin. Never apologize for caring, Y/N. It’s one of the things I like most about you. He pauses. That being said, I’m sure we’ve both worked up an appetite. Can I treat you to a meal at Carbone? You take a moment, running it all over in your head. Dinner? With the university’s president? On a Monday night? At Carbone? It doesn’t feel quite right, but you can’t say no. The fate of your project lies on his approval. Tentatively, you accept. Excellent, he says. You grab your things, and he assists you in putting on your coat. As you go to put your hand in the sleeve, your arm brushes his. The feelings that follow are indescribable. Butterflies? Please. Immense pleasure? Doesn’t cut it. You can only recall a few other times that you’ve felt what you are feeling now—all of them with Timmy. You look up at President Hamilton’s shining eyes. By the way, he remarks, call me Andy. As you pass his secretary on the way out of the office, the president lingers behind. Tell Jen I won’t be home for dinner tonight.

You get to Carbone, and immediately get seated. You’re shocked; you’ve heard it’s impossible to get a table here unless you book months, years in advance. “What, are you surprised?” Andy asks with a little smile on his face.

“Yeah, a little.”

“Well, a lot comes with being President of NYU.” You both laugh, and continue to talk all night. Eventually your project becomes the topic of discussion. “You know, I think this project is kind of big, we’ll probably need someone to oversee it.”

“Oh, really? Well I trust you’ll find someone capable.”

“Actually, I already have someone in mind.” You perk up, excited to hear who he wants to ask. “You.”

“What? Wait, seriously? Me? Why me?”

“Y/N, it’s your project. Nobody knows it better than you. You’re perfect for this. Will you do it”

“Oh my god, of course!” It suddenly hits you, this means you’ll be spending a lot more time with Andy. You don’t know if you should be happy or hesitant, but dinner goes on, and you two talk for hours.

Dinner comes to an end, and Andy asks you where you're headed. I’m just gonna take the J back home. It goes right to my place. He doesn’t hesitate. Nonsense. Let me take you home. You pause. It is pretty late. And it’s raining out. Not to mention, an Uber will cost you forty bucks. You take him up on his offer. He holds an umbrella over you and opens the door, helping you steady yourself as you step in. Have a great night, Y/N.

You lie in bed for a second thinking about the night you just had. Was that a date? With the President of NYU? No way. No. Can’t be. Right? You think about it more and more and can’t help but smile until you remember… Jen. You quickly shake your head to put the name out of your head, and forget about whoever Jen is. That’s a problem for tomorrow, not tonight.

#timothee chalamet #timothée chamalet #new york #new york city #nyc #timothee x reader #timothee x y/n #timothee fic

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