#timothée hal chalamet

[babyflorencee]

Books, pillow talks, and an attention-craving boy

Timothée Chalamet x fem!Reader

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[thebetawolfgirl]

We’re Just Friends

Pairing: Timmy x Reader

Warnings: Umm… Friends to lovers? Smut!

A/N: New Fic!

We’re Just Friends

Timothée and y/n had been friends since they were 10 years old. They knew nothing else but each other, they could spot each other from opposite ends of the school yard.

She could find him in a room full of people.

The point is they were close. Closer than siblings, except when they argued it wasn’t like siblings would argue, and it never lasted very long.

Y/n and her friends were getting ready for a party at her apartment, she was trying on dresses in her walk in wardrobe while one of her friends, Daisy was telling her about this guy she had met at one of her mom’s dinner parties.

‘He has a younger brother y/n, I could set you up?’

‘Y/n doesn’t go for the business type, they bore her to death.’

She heard Timmy step into her bedroom and smiled knowing her friends would be rolling their eyes.

‘Timmy, come and help me with this dress please? The zip is stuck again!’

Timmy sighed and opened the doors to the walk in and saw the dress she was wearing, the one with zip on the front ‘Why are you wearing this dress? You know the zip always catches?’

‘Because it’s a nice dress and it’s sparkly.’ She smiles at him as he slides down the zip slowly trying not to catch it again.

She stripped herself of the dress and hung it up before walking over to get something else.

She was walking around in her underwear in front of Timmy and though they were used to their odd behaviour this was new.

Y/n never stripped in front of anyone let alone walking around in her underwear. She didn’t even get undressed in front of her own mother, but here she was walking around half naked in front of her only guy friend.

‘Okay I need to go. As much as I would love to stay for your fashion show I have to get ready.’

Y/n frowned ‘Where you going?’

‘I’m going to be at that party tonight. My sister was invited so I’m going with her.’

Y/n smiled widely and jumped into his arms hugging him tightly, ‘YOURE GOING TOO????’

He chuckled wrapping his arms around her waist tightly and nodded. ‘Yes I’m going too. So I will see you there.’

She let him go, smiling and kissed his cheek before he buried his face in her neck swaying with her before letting her go ‘Get dressed before you catch a chill.’

She turned and squealed as he slapped her ass and turned round to smack his chest scolding him ‘Timmy. Go!’

He smirked as she clicked her tongue and walked out the door while her friends were whispering to each other glancing at them.

‘Y/n why haven’t you and Timmy gotten together?’

‘We’re just friends, and he’s with Stephanie now.’

‘Timmy doesn’t act like that with Stephanie.’ Daisy said raising her eyebrow.

‘In fact I don’t think he’s even touched her in that way.’

Y/n’s head snapped up looking over at her friend ‘What do you mean by that?’

‘I mean Stephanie has been complaining that Timmy still hasn’t slept with her. They’ve been going out for weeks!’

‘That’s impossible.’ Y/n shook her head and went into the bathroom to begin her makeup.

Later after her friends left to get ready themselves y/n heard the door open and close and footsteps come toward her room

‘Timmy?’ She called from the bathroom ‘Is that you?’

‘Yeah, sorry. I know I said we’d meet at the party but can I just arrive with you?’ He came into the bathroom and leaned against the door watching her as she nodded in confirmation.

‘Of course. What’s wrong?’ She asked buttoning her dress jeans and walking over to him.

‘Stephanie found out I’m going to the party after I told her I wasn’t going. Now she wants to go with me, but I already said I was escorting my sister. But Pauline is going with someone else so she doesn’t need me to escort her.’

‘Now Stephanie is pissed because you won’t take her.’ Timmy nodded resting his hands on her hips and pulling her closer. She wrapped her arms around him and rubbed his back as he lay his head against her neck as he wrapped his arms tightly around her waist.

‘Why haven’t you slept with Stephanie yet?’ Y/n asked against his shoulder.

‘It doesn’t seem like the right time.’

He mumbled back, his voice muffled against her skin. ‘You smell good.’

She smiled playing with the curls at his neck.

‘Thank you, it’s cinnamon scented lotion.’

He moved his head, sliding his hand to hold the back of her neck and bit down sucking hard.

‘Ow! Not edible lotion you freak!’ She shoved him playfully, letting him hit the wall as she looked at her neck in the mirror and glared back at his smirking face ‘Im telling everyone you’re a vampire and you tried to eat me!’

He continued to smirk as she grabbed her jacket and bag walking out with him. ‘Come on.’

He followed obediently and walked down to the cab she had ordered in advance and told him to get in with her ignoring his insistence he could walk ‘Timmy get in, you’re not walking anywhere, it’s New York and it’s freezing.’

‘Fine!’ He slid in beside her and they made their way to the party together.

Halfway there she grabbed his phone and got some pics together in the cab and even got a cheeky one of her grabbing his face and kissing his cheek.

He posted one to his social media captioning it “Party time with bestie” and tagged her.

When they reached their destination they paid the driver and quickly got inside when it began to rain. Neither of them considered Stephanie would be attending so Timmy stayed by y/n’s side during the party.

Some of the older guests assumed they were a couple but they always denied it saying they were just friends and they grew up together.

Stephanie arrived an hour after them and sought out Timmy and found him getting cosy with y/n with his arm around her waist nuzzling her neck.

Y/n saw her entering the party and nudged Timmy pointing to his girlfriend and y/n heard him sigh against her neck and she patted his back ‘Go. Now.’ He left with a peck on her neck and she sighed as he approached Stephanie and watched the way he held her and kissed her in greeting.

Her friends were right, Timmy was completely different with Stephanie than he was with her. It was as if he was touching something nasty, y/n knew from just watching them he didn’t like touching her. Wether they were like this in private, she didn’t know. But this interaction was painful to watch.

She watched as they left the room to go out into the garden so y/n decided to subtly follow them when she was stopped by Daisy and some guy.

‘Y/n this is Tanner, Andy’s younger brother who I was telling you about.’

‘Oh hello, it’s not a good time right now. We’ll catch up later Daisy.’

She walked off sighing. She knew she had just been rude but she had to check on Timmy.

Y/n walked out into the garden and heard someone arguing as if they were trying to keep their voices down.

‘I just don’t get it, Timothée. We’ve been together for weeks and we still haven’t even had sex yet.’

‘I’m just not ready yet Stephanie. I’ve told you that!’ She heard him sigh, and took a peak around the corner and saw him sitting on a stone bench while Stephanie stood over him her arms folded across her chest looking upset.

‘But you won’t even touch me. Whenever I try an kiss you you turn your head away and right now when I tried to sit on your lap you pushed me off.’

‘Because you’re obsessed with sex! I’ve never met anyone so obsessed with fucking the way you are!’

‘I’m not obsessed with sex, I just want to have sex with you.’ She shouted.

Y/n had heard enough she came out of the shadow of her hiding place saying Timothée’s name ‘Timmy. Pauline is looking for you. Hello Stephanie, you look lovely as always.’ Y/n smiled nodding her head slightly in acknowledgment. Stephanie was glaring at y/n until she complimented her and she returned her smile in thank you.

Timmy stood up and followed y/n inside leaving Stephanie standing alone with her thoughts.

‘Thank you for rescuing me.’ Timmy whispered walking with y/n indoors.

‘You’re welcome, I saw you walking out with her and knew she would start something with you.’ He nodded grabbing a glass of champagne from a tray being passed around and took a sip before pulling y/n to his side by her waist and kissed her exposed shoulder, lightly nipping the skin making her turn her head towards him and wrapped her arm over his shoulder, when she saw the guy Daisy brought over make his way through the crowd towards them and sighed ‘Daisy isn’t gonna let this go until I give this guy a moment of my time.’

Timmy looked over and smirked ‘Very business type.’ He sniggered but y/n whispered his ear. ‘If you don’t come and get me in 15 minutes no more cuddles.’ He choked on his last chuckle and went pale at the very serious threat and nodded as the guy approached with a million dollar smile and y/n had to stop herself from gagging in disgust.

‘Hi, I’m-‘

‘Tanner, yes I remember. Nice to meet you.’ She held out her hand which he took and kissed her knuckles.

Oh so he was this type of guy, goodie. She could feel Timmy coming closer to her in a protective manner and smirked.

‘Would you care to dance?’

‘Sure, why not.’

He guided her to the dance floor as Timmy looked on burning a hole into the guy’s skull and walked over to Daisy pointing to his best friend’s dance partner ‘Who the fuck invited James Bond?’

‘I did, i wanted y/n to meet him.’

‘Why? He’s not her type.’

‘I thought he was handsome and cultured.’

‘He’s a shmuck and slobbering all over someone’s hand doesn’t make you cultured. It makes you look like a baby with no teeth.’

Daisy glared and stalked off while Timmy looked on counting down to 15 minutes when he could drag her away from this moron.

He didn’t know why he was acting so jealous, but he knew this guy was not y/n’s type. She liked the goofy type of guy who she could boss around but who could equally take charge when called for.

And he knew this because she ordered him around like a puppy. This guy was the type of guy that would order her food for her at a restaurant, who would feel threatened by her independence and her strength.

He looked at his watch and saw it had been 15minutes and walked over to where they were standing at the bar and was close enough to hear their conversation and knew it was not going well, for him. The guy was trying to order for her at the bar, and she was telling the bartender that she didn’t want that. He was also insisting that he would like to buy drink for her but y/n had already handed the guy her money paying for her own drink.

‘I pay my own way, I don’t need anyone’s charity.’

Timmy smiled approaching hearing the guy huffing exasperated ‘It’s not charity, it’s called being gentlemanly. A lady should never pay for her own drink at a party. Especially if a gentleman is offering to pay.’

She turned seeing Timmy approaching and tilted her head asking him ‘Timmy am I a lady?’ Timmy scoffed shaking his head ‘No. Absolutely not.’

‘And do I always pay my own way?’

‘You paid the cab ride over here.’

‘Exactly. So let this chivalrous crap go. I’m not into it. It’s more Daisy’s thing than mine.’

The guy shook his head disapprovingly and left as Timmy and y/n smiled at each other.

‘So do i still get my cuddles?’

He asked taking a sip of the very unlady like beer she had ordered for herself.

‘Yes of course you do.’ She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and he hugged her back holding her tight against him before sitting on the bar stool pulling her back against him by her waist and watched the party going on around them. The music was louder now as the older guests had retired earlier and only the guests their age remained.

He wrapped his arm tighter around her waist and played with the waistband of her jeans, touching her skin there. She lay her hand over his and entwined their fingers together as he leaned forward and nipped her shoulder. She leaned into him and nudged his nose with hers and kissed his cheek.

‘Is there somewhere we can go?’

He whispered against her neck and she took his hand getting up and dragged him out of the door and up a set of stairs looking for a room.

Every time she stopped to open a door he would grab her hips and nip and kiss her neck until they found a bedroom and she dragged him in behind her as he ran his hands up and grabbed fistfuls of her breasts through her waistcoat, she kicked the door shut and he slammed her against it and began sucking on her neck while turning the key in the lock behind her as she tugged on his hair trying to get him closer to her as possible. She pushed her knee between his legs and pressed against his groin causing him to bite down on her neck hard.

He grabbed her waist picking her up and tosses her on the four poster king size bed crawling on top of her when she pulled his shirt over his head as he tore the buttons off her waistcoat and wrapped his hand around her throat squeezing gently making her gasp.

She grabbed him by his head and slammed her mouth against his in a hungry kiss. He kissed back with equal hunger sliding his hands down her body before sliding her jeans down her legs, breaking the kiss he removed his own jeans before climbing back over to her, he made quick work of their underwear and he slid into her slowly, taking his time as y/n reached up and placed small kisses along his shoulders before he began thrusting into her at a steady pace as she held onto his shoulders.

Y/n gripped onto his shoulders digging her nails into his skin as he began to slam into her harder making her gasp and drag her nails halfway down his arms.

He groaned and collapsed on top of her pinning her beneath him and rammed into her wrapping her legs higher around his waist causing her to moan and jerk higher up the mattress and the bed frame to rock.

She flipped them onto his back and began to ride him and felt his hands run up her torso and grab her breasts roughly. She slammed her hips down on his making him grunt and rut his hips upwards to meet hers causing him to go deeper inside her.

He rolled them to the other side of the bed pinning her down on the mattress and slammed into her as her head hung over the side of the bed and carved his hips into hers going deep again making her groan.

He pulled her up by her neck and kissing her roughly as they came together in a sweaty panting mess as they fell back landing at the bottom of the bed tangled in the sheets.

He kissed and nipped along her collarbone and throat before burying his face against her neck clinging to her and breathing shakily.

Y/n caught her breath and ran her fingers through his hair wiping his damp curls from his face.

She listened and realised the music had stopped downstairs and everyone had left.

‘It’s gone quiet downstairs. I think everyone is gone.’

She felt him move against her neck and wrap his arm tighter around her waist cuddling into her.

‘I’m not moving. We’ll leave first thing in the morning.’

She nodded and lifted his head placing an open kiss against his lips and turned onto her stomach letting Timmy kiss her back and shoulder before laying his head on her mid back closing his eyes as they drifted off to sleep!

@sufferingstarlight

@gatoenlaciudad

@kteezy997

@lixzey

@tchalamss

[lixzey]

Letters

a/n: PLEASE READ WITH CAUTION ‼️‼️‼️This has very detailed scenes which may not be suitable for everyone. The last four letters will be the same, so heads up!

warnings: mentions of panic attacks, fighting, mention of a gun, slightly detailed murder, mention of a lot of blood, police officers, ambulances, implied post-traumatic stress disorder, trauma, and foster homes

The Fourteenth Letter

As soon as the plane landed, Timothée quickly made his way off of the plane—he was practically pushing through passengers just so he could make his way out—he had no time left to lose; he needed to find Y/n as soon as possible. Timothée was, without a doubt, scared. He wasn’t sure what would be waiting for him at the address he had in his hands.

What if he had the wrong address? What if the place was long gone? What if….Timothée couldn’t even bear to think about the worst-case scenario—even if it was possible. What if’s and maybe’s were scattered throughout his mind. Timothée wanted to think positively—that she was alright, safe, and sound at least—but those negative thoughts were inevitable, given the contents of Y/n’s letters.

Timothée sighed, running a shaky hand through his curls as he strolled to the airport’s exit. His heart felt like it was going to beat out of his chest as he scanned the area for the car his manager had arranged for him, his mind racing with all the possibilities of what could be. 

When he finally spotted his ride, Timothée stepped in and gave the driver the address, urging the driver to drive as fast as he legally could. The driver looked at him skeptically, eyebrows knitted in confusion, but nonetheless did as Timothée asked. As the car weaved through the crowded city streets, Timothée’s phone rang all of a sudden. The young actor sighed, picking up the call.

“Timmy, darling?” His mother’s voice spoke from the other line. “Where are you?” 

“I’m on my way to a friend's,” Timothée lied, staring out of the car window. 

“Oh, alright,” Nicole hummed, though Timothée felt like his mother knew that he was lying. “Anyway, there was a young woman looking for you just fifteen minutes ago.” 

Timothée’s brows knitted in confusion. “Looking for me? Who was it?”

“I didn’t catch her name, but she left a letter.”

Timothée’s eyes widened slightly at the mention of a letter. “A letter?” 

“Yes, a letter,” Nicole confirmed. “Like the last time.”

“The last time?”

“A basket of letters. Did you receive them?” Nicole asked. “I asked Pauline to drop it off at the hotel you were staying at in Paris, since she was going the same way.”

“Oh,” Timothée said, gaping at the realization. The letters were delivered to his childhood home, and his mother asked his sister to drop them off. But who delivered the letters? Was it Y/n? “Who delivered the basket, Mom?” 

“The basket was left on our doorstep, sweetheart,” Nicole replied, sending shivers down Timothée's spine.

It was possible that it was Y/n who delivered the letters, but she sent them. She had mentioned in a letter before that she had used all of her extra money for stamps and such, meaning she had sent them in the mail. How the hell did the letters get compiled? Who the hell sent them to him, if not Y/n? Why the fuck were the letters delivered too damn late?

Finally, the car pulled up to the address he had scribbled on a crumpled piece of paper, snapping Timothée out of his daze. He quickly thanked the driver and stepped out onto the bustling sidewalk, his eyes scanning the old run-down building with a large signage with Oregon Sweet Angels Children’s Home written in peeling red paint on a fading yellow background.

Timothée took a step closer, peeking through the boarded windows for a sign of Y/n—or maybe a glimpse of what was inside, of old photos hanging on the walls, or if there was anything else left that could lead him to her, as it was obvious that the children’s home was long forgotten. 

The actor sighed as he sat on the steps of the old building, disappointed at the fact that he had traveled forty hours for nothing. Maybe it was stupid of him to assume that he could find her; he had received the letters too late.

Taking a deep breath, Timothée fished the fourteenth letter from his pocket. “Fourteenth, four more left.”

August 15, 2023

Dear Timothée, 

I just had a panic attack. I haven’t had a panic attack this bad since……

I heard a loud, echoing gunshot from outside of my apartment, and I just froze in place. I couldn't move, couldn't breathe, and couldn’t think. Because a gunshot tossed me back into the system for the remaining years of my childhood—if I could even call that a childhood.

It was the summer before I started high school.

My aunt still treated me like shit, the bare minimum, and all that. CPS still came by every week, making sure I was happy—I wasn’t—and healthy. It was annoying to act like I was okay, that everything was alright, and that there wasn't anything wrong when clearly there was. But who was I to complain? I was the orphan forced to be raised against the only family I had left's will. In everyone else's eyes, I was happy and loved. But not one of them bothered to look behind the damn curtains.

I constantly stayed in my room, making sure the door was locked and my headphones were right beside my bed.

Why, you ask?

It's because my aunt brought home a man, her fiancé; let's call him Leo. 

It's not that I didn't like Leo—he was kind, he always gave me books, and we'd bond over our shared love for literature—but they always fought. It wasn't like normal fights; they would yell, they would scream, and it involved a lot of hitting and breaking things—courtesy of my aunt, I suppose, because she was the only unhinged person I've ever known. Their fights would always revolve around cheating; my aunt constantly accused Leo of cheating when he didn't. He was loyal, even though my aunt wasn't the best pea in the pod. Leo loved her, but my aunt kept on looking past that, always believing things he wasn't even capable of doing.

I was honestly scared that Leo would one day realize that my aunt was not the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. Leo was like a second father to me; he said he sees me as his own and that he'd love to adopt me once he and my aunt got married.

But all that never happened. 

I was sitting in my room, reading peacefully, when I heard them fighting again. At first, I didn’t pay much attention to it because their fighting was practically normal at that point, and I was used to it by then. I shook it off to the side and put my headphones on, but before I even got to play the song from my playlist, I heard a loud, deafening echo of a gunshot from the living room downstairs. I quickly got up; my ears were ringing and my vision blurred as I held the doorknob, opening it with shaking hands. I stepped out of my room, slowly creeping down the stairs, peeking over the railings.

The first thing I saw was Leo.

Lying in a pool of his own blood, slowly dying.

I stood there, frozen. The sight of the wound on the left side of his chest, where the bullet pierced through, sucked the air right out of my lungs. The white Persian rug underneath Leo’s pale and lifeless body absorbed the blood, staining it completely and making my mind blank out. All I could hear was the loud firing of the gun, taking Leo’s life in an instant, that easily.

My aunt stood there, the gun still in her shaking hands, as she stared down at her fiancé’s body, realizing what she had just done was not reversible. She didn’t notice me approaching Leo’s body. I wanted to scream at her; I wanted to charge at her and hit her again and again for killing the only person I had left who cared and loved me after I lost everything that I’ve ever known. But I just stood there as tears flowed down my cheeks, feeling hollow and broken inside—the first time I ever felt that way. After what felt like an eternity, my aunt finally looked up at me—the gun against her forehead—and before I could utter a word, she fired the gun, taking her own life just as easily as she took Leo’s.

I fell onto my knees as the ringing of the gunshot replayed again and again in my ears like a fucking merry-go-round, choking out sobs as I stared at the lifeless bodies in front of me. I didn’t know what to do. Again, I wanted to scream and shout, but nothing came out of my throat other than raspy breaths. I knelt there like an idiot for what felt like forever, wondering what I did to fucking deserve this. How the fuck could anyone hurt a little kid? 

Eventually, I grabbed the phone—Leo’s phone—from the coffee table and dialed 911 with my hands shaking. A little while later, the police and ambulances arrived, and immediately one of the RMTs rushed towards me. I was still kneeling in front of Leo’s body, so the RMT wrapped me in her arms and slowly escorted me out to one of the ambulances. I was shaking and sweating while one of the police officers who responded asked me questions about what happened.

I couldn’t.

I couldn’t. 

The scene kept replaying itself again and again. I just kept on crying silently, until the RMT who took me out of the house said it was better to take me to the hospital first to recover from the trauma, and a psychiatrist would be better given what I had to witness. I just sat there until I saw bodies getting loaded into the other two ambulances—Leo and my sorry excuse for an aunt’s bodies—in black body bags. I never, ever expected that I’d see someone I loved die in front of my eyes again. First my parents, then Leo.

I was then whisked away to the nearest hospital. The hospital where I woke up three years prior. I was back to square one, now a literal orphan. No more family. 

I was diagnosed with post-traumatic stress disorder. I spent a week in the hospital, crying and crying again and again until I ran out of tears. Psychiatrists, therapists, nurses, and doctors all tried to help me open up, but none of them were ever successful.

After my stay at the hospital, I was thrown into foster care—Oregon Sweet Angels Children’s Home—for good this time. I spent my first few days stuck in bed; I didn’t have the energy to mingle with the other kids my age—I was thirteen, turning fourteen in a few months at that time—no one wants a broken girl for a friend, and it’s sure as hell that no one wants to adopt a teen who has nightmares each and every goddamn night.

Now, the trauma’s haunting me. Every fucking time, and this one isn’t all of it.

I’m all alone now. 

My parents died, Leo got murdered, Ava moved out, and Julie’s moved to another state. Who do I have left now, Timmy? Do I have you? I'm scared that everyone I’ll love will leave me. You weren’t even mine to begin with, but I’m still scared to lose you. 

I've been praying again and again for somebody to save me—a knight in shining armor, for all I care—but no one’s been heroic enough. All that I did to try to undo it, all of my pain, and all their excuses. I was a kid, but I wasn't fucking clueless. At eleven, I understood that someone who loves you wouldn't do any of this. All of my past, I tried to erase it. But now I see, would I even change it?

What was I fucking made for?

All my love, 

Y/n

Timothée felt his heart clench, tears pricking his eyes, threatening to fall as he finished reading the fourteenth letter. Y/n had been through so much, so fucking much. She was just a little girl—a little girl who had already gone through hell and back again and again. Timothée felt his stomach twist with guilt, even though it wasn’t his fault.

Or was it?

Had he received all of her letters earlier, Timothée would've reached out to her sooner. She had been so alone and traumatized for years, living through a nightmare that a child should never have to experience. Timothée pressed the letter to his chest, wiping away the tears that had fallen down his cheeks with one hand. He stood up, tucking the letter back in its envelope and putting it back in his pocket. 

Timothée took a deep breath, turning around to take one last look at the children’s home—the place where Y/n spent four years of her life alone—before making his way back to the car that was waiting for him.

He wasn’t going to give up. He was going to find Y/n, he was going to be the hero she desperately needed, and he wasn’t going to stop until he did.

@helens3amstuff @gatoenlaciudad @thebetawolfgirl @lovemelikecrazyiloveyoucrazy @tchalamss @ashlynnmalfoy @crazycat-ladys-blog @michakune @mxltifxnd0m @spencerr3idd @dangelnleif @sthkate @ferrjulie @imnotoverlyobsessive @mel-vaz @zunin-msty @lovely-maryj @meowmeowmau @bobthe-turmpetman29 @saintcosette @ashisabitgay @ladyladybuggg @nyrasunderwrld @remussbitch @jadahxx @starrystormwritings @ell0ra-br3kk3r @dreary-salem @drewsandsebastianswife @greenapplegrass @lilianelena39 @haybellewrites @cloudlst @si4ana @ev3ningrain @ttulipwritezz @lilmaymayy @bullets-from-another-dimension @siriuslycaptainofthedawntreader @reg-arcturus-black @marina468 @3stelar @timhalamet @st4rf00k3r @idli-dosa @jimins15thhair @blacksgarden @loving-and-dreaming @thefriendlyneighborhoodmomfriend

[tchalamet79]

Timothée Chalamet 🖤

[bellaxullen]

Regulus Black

[sykoglasseastman]

[nong247]

The King

Pen drawing+edit on photoshop Instagram @nong247

[imnotoverlyobsessive]

Moodboard by @softhecreator

Mr. Chalamet

chapter nine: don’t be ridiculous

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

All my work is 18+.

If only I could just read your cursive mind and know what you’re thinking, know what you’re needing, I can try by just guessing what’s inside. But it’s never that easy, so please come and tell me; are you in or are you out? Are you still searching for something you haven’t found? I know it’s hard for you, but you’re killing me right now, so will you love me or let me down?- We The Kings, Love Me or Let Me Down

Elle had a school trip early in the second semester. The week leading up to it had been so hectic for her that Tim hadn’t been able to come home, not even for a night. So when Elle finally left, Lea was beyond excited for some alone time with Tim.

The night Elle left, Lea was in the kitchen of their house, checking on the gumbo—Tim had never had homemade gumbo, which, as a Cajun, Lea found absolutely mind boggling, like, how could he go thirty-six years of his life completely gumboless?—when she heard the door open.

“Baby?” he called. 

“In the kitchen!”

Footsteps, and then a contented sigh. “It’s so good to be home with you. What’s that smell, by the way?”

“Gumbo,” Lea informed him. “My mom’s is better than this will probably be, especially so young, but it’s going pretty good so far.”

“Young?” He sounded confused.

“It’s supposed to be aged a bit,” Lea explained, ignoring the steam as she stirred. “The older it gets, the better it is.”

“Like wine?”

She shrugged. “I guess.”

She heard him step closer, pressing himself against her back and wrapping his arms around her waist. She leaned into him, her eyes fluttering shut, almost in relief.

He kissed the top of her head. “I missed you.”

She hummed. “You just saw me earlier today.”

“I mean I missed being alone with you,” he amended. “Being able to hold you like this.”

She sighed blissfully. “Yeah. I missed it, too.”

“Remember the last time we were alone in a kitchen?” She could hear the grin in his voice when he spoke. 

A smile twitched at her lips. “We’ve been alone in more than one kitchen on numerous occasions.”

He moved a hand down to her hip, squeezing it through the soft fabric of her house dress. “Maybe, but have I fucked you in the kitchen before?”

Lea exhaled slowly. “Not since the first time.”

“And certainly not in our kitchen,” he pointed out, leaning down and kissing her neck. “That won’t do, will it?”

She licked her lips. “N— no.”

Tim inhaled deeply, gripping her jaw and murmuring, “Tell me you love me.”

“I love you,” she breathed. Suddenly, she recalled something he’d told her just before they got together, the last time they were in a kitchen like this. “I love you, Mr. Chalamet.”

He froze, hands that had been hiking her dress up her thighs pausing in their movements. “Lea, you— you— fuck.”

Suddenly, she was spun around, his hands sliding into her hair as he slammed his mouth against hers. She let out a startled “Mmf!” before the sound turned into a moan.

He practically tore her dress in his haste to pull it up around her thighs, yanking his pants down past his hips in a similar manner. “Fuck,” he groaned, looking at her pale pink panties that revealed more than they covered. “Take those off, sweetheart.” When she didn’t manage it fast enough, he added, “C’mon, Lea. I own that sweet little body, don’t I, baby?”

“Yes,” she assured him with a hasty nod.

“Of course I do,” he murmured, yanking the hemline of her dress down along with the cups of her bra. He grabbed one of her breasts as soon as it was bare and fondled it roughly, his fingers squeezing hard enough to bruise. She hoped they did. “Gonna fuck you now. Show you who owns you.”

She kicked her panties aside, winding her arms around his neck to get closer to him. “You own me,” she promised. “I’m all yours.”

“I know,” he agreed softly, grabbing fistfuls of her ass and giving it a few good slaps for good measure. She yelped at the sting, the sound of half pleasure, half pain. He smirked when he heard her delight, smacking her breast right over her nipple. She moaned loudly as he watched her breast jiggle. “God, you’re so sexy.”

“Want you,” she whined needily. “Want you in me, please.”

“Poor baby,” he said condescendingly. “So desperate to get fucked. So desperate for me.”

“Yes,” she admitted.

He hauled her in closer, kissing her hungrily and backing her up against the kitchen counter. Picking her up and depositing her onto it, he didn’t break their kiss, reaching down to spread her legs so he could step between them.

“C’mon, sweetheart,” he murmured against her lips, aligning himself with her entrance. “Lemme have it.”

She cupped his cheek, leaning back against the wall behind the cabinet, and wrapping her legs around his waist. “Want you to have me,” she told him softly. “I love you.”

“Love you, too, baby.” He pushed into her with a groan. “Fuck.”

“Exactly,” she giggled, twining her fingers into his hair.

He chuckled, leaning forward to mouth at her neck. “If you’re capable of making jokes, I probably need to fuck you harder, huh?”

“Mhm,” she moaned as he pulled out only to thrust back in roughly.

“Fuck,” he grunted. “Say it again, sweetheart.”

“H— huh?” she stuttered, dazed.

“Call me that again.”

Finally understanding, she managed, “Mr. Chalamet, I—“

“That’s it,” he practically growled. “Again, darling. So fuckin’ hot.”

“Mr. Chalamet,” Lea moaned, throwing her head back so it thudded slightly against the wall behind her. “God, yes, I want— I want—“

“What do you want?” he murmured, mouthing wetly at her throat. “Ask for the world and it’s yours. Just tell me what you want.”

“I wanna have your baby,” she admitted with a whine. “Please, I—“

“I know, Lea,” he told her, the gentleness of his voice at odds with his sharp thrusts. “Soon. Just a little bit longer, my love.”

“No,” she insisted. “Don’t wanna wait, want it now, I wanna have a baby with you right now, want your baby, don’t wanna wait, I want it I want it I want it I want it—“

“God, Lea,” he muttered, pulling her closer to him. “Patience, my greedy little girl.”

She shook her head urgently. “No, now.”

“Patience,” he reiterated firmly, fucking into her punishingly. “Much as I’d love to fuck a baby into you now, you need to finish school first.” He paused before adding, “And I’d like to be married to you before we have a baby.”

Lea froze. “You— you wanna marry me?” Her breath was caught in her chest as if she had forgotten how to breathe.

“Of course I do,” he murmured softly, kissing her neck. “My love, my sweet, darling girl. Of course I want to marry you.”

She cupped his cheek, pulling his face up to hers so she could press her mouth against his with urgency. “I wanna marry you, too, Tim,” she admitted, “but I wanna have your baby now. I don’t care that you’re already married. I don’t care that I’m still in school.”

“Lea,” he sighed in exasperation, the thrust of his hips slowing into more of a rocking motion than him fucking into her the way he had been.

“Please,” she begged. She knew he wouldn’t cave, so she added, “Please, Mr. Chalamet. Get me pregnant.”

Tim surged towards her, claiming her mouth again. “I will, darling,” he swore. “As soon as I can, I will.”

“Now,” she insisted, kissing him again. “Now, please.”

“You’re making it very difficult for me to be sensible, my love,” he admonished, still rocking into her, filling her deliciously.

“I don’t care if it’s sensible,” Lea informed him. “I love you. I want this with you.”

“You’ll have it, sweetheart,” he promised, cupping her face and stroking her cheek lovingly. “I’ll give you as many babies as you want. I swear I will. But I need you to be patient for me. Alright? Can you do that for me, darling? Please?”

She pouted. “I don’t wanna.”

“I know,” he chuckled softly. “As many as you want, love. Just be patient for me.”

“Fine,” she grumbled in annoyance. 

“I just want what’s best for you,” he informed her.

“You’re what’s best for me.”

His lips quirked into a small smile, and he wrapped his arms around her, holding her close even as he moved within her. “Soon, sweetheart. I’ll give you a baby soon, I promise.”

“Tim,” she sighed blissfully, leaning into him. “F— feels good.”

“Yeah?” he murmured with a smile against her hairline, leaning down to kiss her again. She arched up into his touch, her lips falling open in a soft gasp when he drove into her a little harder. “That feel good, darling?”

“Yes,” Lea breathed, her toes curling from how incredible it felt, the delicious way he was filling her. The countertop was cold against her skin, a sharp contrast next to the warmth of his body, his touch, but it was damn near impossible to focus on anything but the way he felt, the way he made her feel.

“Tell me you love me,” he prompted again, his voice soft and gentle but still commanding in that ridiculously—obnoxiously, really—way he always managed to pull off. 

“I love you,” she told him without hesitation, and was immediately rewarded with his lips on hers. He rocked into her, sucking her lower lip between his teeth before slipping his tongue into her mouth.

“I love you, too,” he rasped out, sliding a hand down to squeeze her hip briefly before trailing back up to grip her breast. “God, you’re so sexy.”

She pulled his face closer to hers, kissing him hungrily as he fondled her breast and rolled his hips. “Please don’t stop.”

“I won’t,” he promised into her mouth, rocking into her slowly but harshly. “Not gonna stop until you cum, sweetheart.”

Lea whined at the thought of him bringing her to orgasm, at the way it felt every time he did. “Will you, please?” she asked quietly, her nails digging into the skin of his shoulders.

“You wanna cum already?” he chuckled softly. “Greedy little girl.”

“‘m sorry,” she mumbled, embarrassed.

“Don’t apologize, baby,” Tim panted, reaching between them to rub her clit. “I want you to feel good.”

“You always make me feel good,” she gasped out, arching into the way his touch shot sparks through her veins. “Fuck, that’s so good.”

“Yeah?” He bent down to mouth wetly at her throat. “You like that, angel? You wanna cum for me?”

“Uh huh,” she whined, her toes already curling from the pleasure. “I want— I want—“

“I know what you want,” he assured her lowly. “I know what you need. And you know I’ll give it to you, don’t you, love?”

Lea nodded jerkily. “I know.”

“You know I’ll always take care of my sweet girl.” He paused, inhaling sharply when he felt her clenching around him. “You’re getting close, aren’t you?”

She nodded again. “‘m gonna cum, Tim, I—“

“That’s it, sweetheart,” he murmured against her skin, rubbing her clit faster. “Cum on my cock. Feels so good when you do, so pretty when you cum for me.”

Her body tensed, her muscles somehow spamming yet unable to move, and she burst with a sharp gasp of his name.

“You feel so fuckin’ good,” he grunted, driving into her harder, moaning into her neck. “God, baby. I’m gonna cum inside you, gonna cum in this tight little pussy—“

“Yes, Tim,” she encouraged softly. “Cum inside me.”

“Fuck—“ he moaned, his thrusts slowly before halting altogether.

It took a few minutes for them to come back to themselves, and he murmured something inaudible against her skin between soft, sweet kisses.

“Huh?” she asked dazedly, blinking in an effort to try and regain her bearings.

“Said I love you,” he mumbled. “Love you so fuckin’ much, baby.”

Lea smiled blissfully. “I love you, too.”

Several minutes later, he was leaning back against the kitchen table, his long legs stretched out in front of him in a position that was far too attractive to really be legal, watching her as she righted her clothing. “Do you actually wanna have a baby now?”

Lea blushed. “I mean… I love you, so it’d be nice, but…”

“It’s not a good time,” he agreed, “but you’re right, it would be nice. Amazing, actually.” He sighed and changed the subject. “Have you ever been to LA?” The question was casual, his gaze lazy.

“No, why?”

“‘Cause you’ve got another couple weeks before your classes start back up. We should make use of them, don’t you think?”

Lea stared at him in disbelief. “You want me to come to LA with you?”

He shrugged. “Yeah, it’ll be fun.”

She squinted suspiciously at him. “And would you take me on the jet again?”

“You mean the jet with the private bedroom suite, complete with a shower big enough to fuck you in and a tub where you can ride me? That jet?” He raised his eyebrows at her. “Yes, we would be taking that.”

“Where would we be staying, exactly?”

He grinned. “I know a place.”

As it turned out, the place Tim knew was a house. As in he’d bought her another fucking house. If one could even call an 8,300 square foot estate on .33 acres a house. She did not call it a house, she called it a mansion. Or palace. Palace also worked.

It was almost mediterranean in style; with whitewashed stucco, exposed beams, and colorful tiling, their bedroom was the highlight. It had both patio and balcony access, as did their bathroom, and the whole house overlooked the coast. She felt like a princess nestled away in a palace by the sea.

They were only gonna be there for a couple weeks, planning on flying back to New York a few days before her classes started.

She was getting dressed one day, trying to fasten her bra. “Jesus Christ,” she grumbled in frustration.

“What is it, love?” Tim asked cheerfully, sticking his head into the walk-in closet she’d set her suitcase up in.

“My damn nipples are too sensitive for me to even freakin’ touch,” she griped. “This doesn’t even happen if I get my period, and it can’t be PMS anyway; my birth control fixes that.”

He stared at her with wide eyes, swallowing. “Weren’t, uh… weren’t you feeling nauseous when you woke up?”

“Yeah,” she grimaced. “Even coffee smelled gross. It’s weird, I love the smell of coffee.”

He continued to stare at her before finally deciding, “I’ll be back in a bit.”

Lea frowned, confused. “O… kay?”

“Take this.”

She looked down, examining the box he’d shoved into her hands. “You want me to take a pregnancy test?”

“Classic early symptoms,” he explained.

She shrugged. “Alright, I guess.”

Five minutes later, she was blinking at the little plus sign. She took another test just to be sure, this one labeled with words.

Pregnant

“T— Tim,” she called out shakily.

“Yeah?” He strolled into the bathroom, glancing over at her where she stood by the sink, staring at the tests.

“It’s positive,” he observed.

“Uh huh,” she barely managed.

“Holy shit,” he breathed.

“Yep.”

“You’re pregnant.”

“Yep,” she repeated.

Suddenly, he turned towards her and kissed her so desperately she was frozen for a moment. “You’re pregnant,” he repeated between kisses. “You’re pregnant, Lea. You’re gonna have my baby.”

She pulled back slightly, looking up at him in disbelief. “Are you… happy?”

“Are you kidding?” he laughed. “The woman I love is having my baby. I’m fuckin’ thrilled.”

“But— but we agreed we’re not ready,” she sputtered. “I’m still in school, Elle doesn’t know about us—“

He waved her off. “All that shit’s secondary. You’re having my baby. I couldn’t care less about anything outside of that.” He took a breath, thinking. “Shit, gimme— gimme a sec, alright? I’ll be right back.”

She followed after him, watching him over the railing of the balcony overlooking their bedroom as he rifled through a bedside table drawer. “What’re you doing?”

“One sec,” he said again. “Where is— ah hah!”

Turning around with a grin, he hid his hands behind his back and sauntered over to her again. “What is that?” she asked, confused.

Instead of answering her directly, he took a deep breath and walked up to join her on the balcony. “Lea,” he said slowly, “I love you. You know that, right?”

She furrowed her brow in confusion. “Yeah…?”

He nodded, and then he…

And then he lowered himself onto one knee.

Her brain short-circuited, her eyes widening. “Tim, what’re you—“

“Just… just let me talk, okay?” he pleaded softly.

“Okay,” she whispered, unable to really think.

He took his hands out from behind his back, revealing a small velvet box. “I meant to waist until everything was out in the open to do this, until the divorce was finalized, but honestly, I expected all of that to be done by now, and I don’t really feel like waiting anymore, so…” He took a deep breath, looking far more nervous than she was used to seeing him. “Okay,” he said, appearing to steel himself, “so here’s the thing. Things never worked with Lola. I’ve been in love before, yeah, but it’s never been like this.”

“Like what?” she asked, hesitant and unsure.

He tilted his head to the side thoughtfully. “Right, I guess? You just feel… well. Right. It’s like being with you is exactly what’s always been meant to happen. You’re it for me, is what I’m saying.” Another pause. “I’m in love with you. I know it’s complicated, and I know it’s probably inconvenient for you in a lot of ways, but I…” He sighed wistfully. “I don’t care about the consequences, honestly. I just want you. And now you’re gonna have my baby, so…” He opened the box, revealing a gorgeous sapphire ring that must’ve cost a fortune. “If you’ll have me, I would very much like to marry you.”

“T— Tim,” she stuttered out anxiously, “you’re already married.”

He shrugged. “Like I said, I don’t really care.”

“You can’t marry me if you’re already married to someone else,” she explained.

“Eh,” he waved her off. “Semantics. So it can’t be legal until the divorce goes through. Whatever. We’ll be married in every way that matters.”

Her head was spinning. “Is— is this just because I’m pregnant? You don’t have to ask me to marry you because of that, you know—“

“It’s not just ‘cause of that, no,” he assured her. “I did that once already. I don’t wanna do it again, and I wouldn’t ask you to marry me if I didn’t really, really want you to.” At her hesitance, he added, “And it’ll be legal as soon as we can swing it. Obviously.”

She felt dizzy. “Have you been planning this? Where did you even get that ring? When did you get that ring?”

“I got it a couple months back,” he admitted. “As soon as I knew I’d never want anybody else, I… I spoke to the jewelers at Cartier, and—“

“Timothée, you did not get me a freakin’ ring custom-made by your fancy jewelry buddies!” she hissed, astonished at the sheer amount of money he’d spent. 

Tim pouted. “You deserve the world, and I want to be the one to give it to you.” He paused. “But, I mean, if you want something else or you don’t want to marry me at all—“

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she cut him off. “Nobody in their right mind would say no to that.”

He froze, appearing to stop breathing. “Does… does that mean you’ll… you actually wanna, like…”

“Of course I’ll marry you, stupid,” she told him, swiftly wiping away her tears before reaching for the ring with a shaking hand. “Gimme that.”

He smiled, gazing up at her with more adoration than she could really process, and slid the ring onto her finger.

Jumping back to his feet, he pulled her in for a kiss. She giggled, winding her arms around his neck, and the velvet ring box fell to the tiled floor.

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 @chalametbich

To be added, please ask 💗

[skyebounded]

can u make timothée smut with cockwarming😁😁

Penny For Your Thoughts

© Skyebounded, do not use my work, but you may share it.

Masterlist

premise: Timothée has been busy with work that he barely has time for you..

Pairing: Timothée Chalamet x Fem!Reader

Warnings: cockwarming (my favourite btw) smut, swearing.

Word Count: 960

A/N: Hello Lovelies 💙 Hey babe, sorry this took me so damn long, but here you go! I hope you enjoy it. Thank you for the request!!!

Anything, you would settle for anything right now. Timothée had been sitting on the couch for the past few hours, trying to get a feel for the new script that he was determined to memorize as soon as possible, which to him meant no time for a break and no time for you. From sun up to sun down he had been working, day after day. 

You were entering week two, and all you had gotten from him was a few kisses here and there and if you were lucky maybe a fuck once or twice, but nothing lasting. You needed him. You knew he didn’t mean anything by it, he wasn’t purposefully trying to avoid you or leave you absolutely starving for his touch, it was simply just him trying to be good at his job and you respected that, but all you wanted was a little attention.

You didn’t need much, just something more than a few kisses every now and then. you wanted to be close to him, touch him, feel his hands on you, even if it was only for a few minutes, just something to hold you over until you could get him away from the pages, and to do something more fulfilling.

Eyeing him from the archway, you watch as he highlights the script in his hand, re-reading the line over and over again. His eyes fall closed in what you can only assume is frustration, and that was your cue. You make your way over to him, taking long strides. Moving the papers away from his face, you quickly straddle him before he can object. His eyes dart open at the sudden feeling of you atop him.

   “Mon amour?” he exhales with a soft smile.

You were waiting for him to tell you that he didn’t have time, or that he was too busy, or any other excuse for that matter, but he doesn't, not yet at least.

“Darling, I miss you. I swear it feels like I haven’t seen you in forever.” you groan.

His eyes hold an apologetic gleam to them, as he studies your face. You could see the stress and the need for sleep hanging over him like a dark cloud. Your hands, firmly placed on his chest, begin to roam, making your way to his tensed shoulders, slowly massaging them. You lean in, placing a kiss along his neck, moving up it slowly listening to the low groans that he makes. 

“I’m sorry my love, I just-I have to-” he starts. 

You put your finger over his lips silencing his excuse. You pull back to look at him, as you think over what you need to say. 

“I just want to feel you, we don’t have to-” you pause, searching his expression. His brow raises as he considers what you’re saying. “Baby, please…” you plead. 

You go back to kissing his neck, sweetening the deal just a little. You meant what you said, you didn’t need to fuck, you just needed to feel him, touch him, have him touch you. You could tell he wanted the same, you could feel the evidence growing beneath you, his cock aching. You slowly grind your hips against him, feeling him grow harder by the second, savoring the low groan that grows in the back of his throat as it goes straight to your core. 

“fuck..okay,,” was all he could manage to say.  

His hand slips down to your cunt, grinning at you when he feels nothing but your wetness.

“What have you been doing that involves no panties, my dear?” he coos. Leaning into you, Timmy kisses the soft skin of your collar, his free hand sliding up the thin fabric of your shirt, his thumb brushing over your hardening nipple. 

“Waiting for you,” you moan, as he sucks a welt into your neck. He lets go of the script in his hand for the moment, using it to grab your ass, kneading it in his palm. 

“Hmm, so you got impatient  I see,” his lips trail down your chest, even more, tending to your sweet spots. “Well let's see what we can do about it,” You begin to fiddle with the waistband of his pants, and he lifts his hips just enough to get them down, letting his cock spring free. 

You lean up on your knees, letting out a sharp gasp when you feel his tip graze through your wet folds, your grip on his shoulder tightening. He gawks at you as you lower yourself onto his length, signing in tandem as he bottoms out inside you. His head leans back against the couch as he lets out a groan, as your walls clench around him, soaking in the delicious stretch of him. 

You throw your arms around his neck. wrapping the hair at the nape of his neck around your pretty little fingers. You begging to kiss up his neck slowly, reaching his ear,

“You can go back to work now..” you smile innocently, your breath heavy.

He chuckles, knowing damn well that he wasn’t going to be able to focus on work when he was buried so deep in your needy cunt. Not when your plump lips ever so delicately kiss at his neck. He needed you just as badly as you needed him, if not more. He could try to go back to work, practice his lines for an hour more, but when you start moving your hip, like the little minx you are, he knows he's lost. 

You knew you had gotten him, when his hands find your hips, slowly helping you to grind against him. Despite him seeming cool and collected you could feel just how untrue that was. You had won. 

[babyflorencee]

Hair dye

Timothée Chalamet x fem!Reader

"Tim, you have to sit still, unless you want to look like Oscar the grouch." I teased, carefully applying more blue hair dye to my boyfriend Timothée's now blond curls.

With less than a week before he had to return to film his latest movie in LA, Tim arrived home two days ago with a list of tasks he needed to complete, including the need for blue hair.

Nerves fluttered within me when he first mentioned dyeing his hair. Since it had been five years since I last experimented with hair dye at the age of 16. And the last thing I wanted to do was to jeopardize his appearance and disrupt the film schedule.

"Are you almost done?" he whined, growing bored.

"Just about, you just have to sit with this in for an hour then rinse it out." I replied painting the last bit of his bleached blond hair.

"Done," I announced, watching as he eagerly grabbed his phone to catch a glimpse of his new hair. His eyes widened in a mixture of shock and distaste, causing a chuckle from me.

"You're dashing, baby," I teased, causing him to roll his eyes.

I retrieved a hair cap from the table to contain the dye and returned to Tim. "Do you still love me, even though I look hideous?" he pouted, turning to face me.

"My love, I hate to break it to you, but I never loved you," I teased, prompting a shocked expression from him before he enveloped me in a hug from behind.

"You really don't love me?" He said pouting in disappointment. "Because I love you," he declared, showering kisses along my shoulder and neck, knowing full well I was ticklish there.

"I love you too, Timmy," I responded, turning around to face him, and immediately he ducked his head down and pulled me into a kiss. What started as just an innocent kiss now turned into a make out session. His lips travelled to my neck, gently sucking on the skin. He was planting sloppy kisses on my collarbone making his way up to my neck. Suddenly, the timer interrupted, eliciting a groan from Tim.

"Well, thats your cue," I remarked, stealing a quick kiss before retreating to wash my hands.

As I turned on the faucet, Tim's voice echoed from the bathroom doorway, "Don't forget the soap! I can't go back to filming with blue handprints all over my body!"

I chuckled, shaking my head. "Oh, believe me, Tim, that won't be a problem!"

[thebetawolfgirl]

Mine

Pairing: Timmy x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of cheating, smut. Famous reader, famous Timmy.

Mine

He shouldn’t be doing this, he hated cheating on Heather but he couldn’t stay away from her.

She listened to him, made him feel seen, he didn’t treat him with kid gloves and she also didn’t treat him like some big shot celebrity. He was just Timmy to her, as he had always been to her.

Heather was a lovely girl, beautiful and smart. But all she cared about was Timothée’s fame, whenever

he got invited to a big Hollywood party and he didn’t want to go, she would kick off saying he was being selfish for not wanting to go and show face. When really, she just wanted to be seen and photographed with him. The Greatest Hollywood actor of his time, Timmy rolled his eyes thinking about it.

Y/n couldn’t have cared less about his fame or the big Hollywood parties, she would rather sit at home and have a movie night.

He remembered the moment he lay eyes on her, it was at The Governor’s Ball thing and the room was filled with an excited buzz because someone heard that Y/n

Y/L/N was rumoured to be attending the ball. She rarely ever attended these events because she wasn’t really impressed with the whole Hollywood thing, but because this was for a good cause she decided to accept this invite.

When she walked into the room Timothée couldn’t take his eyes off her. She was stunning, she looked as if she had just descended from Heaven and graced the earth with her presence for this one night. She made her way around the room talking to everyone, and he meant everyone. She even spoke briefly to the waiters who took her drink orders, everyone adored her. Timmy knew he had to talk to her so slowly made his way over to her to introduce himself, as he got closer to her table he saw she was talking to DiCaprio and they were discussing his foundation and overheard some of their conversation.

‘It’s so incredible how far the foundation has come, you’re doing amazing work Leo. I doubt you need my help, but if you do need anything at all, please don’t hesitate to contact me. I have some good friends in the Marine Biology sector who will be more than happy to help.’ She smiles as Leo takes her in his large ones and thanks her profoundly for all her support!

As Leo leaves the table Timmy hesitantly approaches the seat across from her. ‘Miss y/l/n, hello I’m-‘

‘Timothée Chalamet. I’m such a huge fan of your work.’ She gives him a smile he knows no one else in the room has received as his green eyes went wide as spaceships.

‘Really? You know who I am??’

He squeaked taking her extended hand. It was so soft.

‘Yes, I saw you in the Prodigal Son in broadway, then your big debut in Interstellar.’

He shakes his head blushing ‘Oh I didn’t have a very big role in that as I thought I would.’

‘From the way Matthew gushed about you, you wouldn’t know that.’

She smiled looking at him, she thought he was so charming. His humility was endearing, every time she praised him for something he would go on to praise his fellow costars instead of taking the credit for himself, that sort of person was rare to find. That’s one of the reasons she never attended these things, everyone she ever spoke to, with the acception of DiCaprio, was so vapid and vain. She found it disgusting.

She could tell right away Timmy wasn’t like this, the way he spoke, he was considerate, intelligent and kind and passionate about what he did. She could’ve sat and spoke to him all evening, it was intellectually stimulating to talk about anything and everything, she could feel the spark between them. But she also saw when she arrived that he had brought a date, so she assumed he had a girlfriend.

‘Could I maybe, maybe I’m being rude, but I would very much like to see you again.’ He rambled nervously and her heart skipped a beat as she smiled and blurted out without thinking ‘Yes I would love to see you again. But what about your girlfriend?’

He looked over at Heather who was currently talking to Greta Gerwig and returned his eyes to y/n

‘She’s just a young lady I asked to accompany me tonight.’

Y/n shook her head and smiled shaking her head ‘You’re an awful liar.’ She giggled as he covered his face with his hands feeling embarrassed at being caught out. ‘I know, I know I’ve always sucked at lying.’

Y/n only giggled more taking his hands from his face and looked at him ‘What are you doing tomorrow?’

‘I I, nothing I can clear my schedule.’

He stammered looking at her wide eyed.

‘Then it’s settled, we will have a very important meeting where breakfast will be included.’ She put on a mock serious face before winking and smiling and stood up, he stood with her taking her hand and bending down to kiss her knuckles ‘Until tomorrow then, Miss Y/L\N.’

She placed her fingers on his lips making his gulp ‘Call me y/n, Timmy.’

That was 2 months ago, after that first breakfast date they became inseparable, they kept their interactions low key so the paps wouldn’t get a hold of them.

Now he was at her house, trailing his lips down her neck as she ran her fingers through his hair before dragging her hands under his t-shirt and over his back making him shiver against her, he bit down gently on her shoulder causing her to gasp.

‘Timmy.’ She whispered his name against his ear before pulling his T-shirt over his head and off him.

He lifted her top off her and tossed it with his own and kissed her lips gently, she kissed him back deepening the kiss and pushed him to sit up before climbing onto his lap.

He gripped her waist looking up at her with wide eyes and placed his hand flat against her torso before sliding his fingers up grabbing each of her breasts over her bra then slid his fingers up her neck before wrapping his hand around her throat as let her head fall back between her shoulders letting him kiss her skin, he gripped the waistband of her jeans unbuttoning them as he continued leaving a trail of wet kisses down her neck.

She pulled him closer against her body and wrapped her arms around his shoulders before grabbing his face placing an open mouth kiss against his lips and ground against his sweatpants feeling his cock grow beneath her as he tightened his grip around her waist and deepened the kiss and pulled her lace bralette off her and buried his face into her neck, breathing in her natural floral scent and ran his hands up her smooth back as she raked her fingers through his messy curls messing them up even more.

She begins rocking against him grounding her hips down against his crotch, she moves to kiss his neck as he pulled her jeans down her hips trying to get them off her,

They fell backwards on the couch with her pinning him underneath her as she reached up and kissed him full on the lips rocking harder against him as he slid her jeans down her thighs and pulled her knees up on either side of him.

She moved her hands down to his sweatpants and pushed them down his legs before he slid into her from underneath as he continued to kiss her, she gasped as she sank down on him and began to ride him.

He buried his face against her neck and held onto her for dear life as she rode him hard, breathing hard.

He rut his hips up against hers meeting her thrusts making her gasp against his ear, she grips his shoulders and sits up and began moving up and down on his cock. He slid his hands up her torso and gripped her breasts pinching her nipples as she threw her head back, groaning.

He sat up and attacked her neck with wet kisses and light bites on her skin, and began rutting into her as deep as he could making her gasps audibly and grip his hair.

‘Timmy, harder.’ She breathed out against his ear, he pushed her down onto her back and began slamming into her as hard as he could. He crushes his lips against hers clashing their teeth together, he wrapped his arms under her waist pulling her closer against him and slammed into her panting against her neck.

They came together in a heap of tangled limbs and sweat as they felt their damp skin sticking.

He felt her leave small kisses along his shoulder and nuzzled her neck releasing a small whimper as she dragged the throw from the back of the sofa over them as he placed kissed along any skin he could reach as she pushed his still damp hair from his even more damp face.

It was wrong, they knew it. Timmy knew it especially. But he couldn’t muster up an ounce of guilt for Heather as he nuzzled his nose against hers and whispered

‘Mine.’ Over and over again.

@sufferingstarlight

@gatoenlaciudad

@kteezy997

@lixzey

@tchalamss

@mel-vaz

[lixzey]

Letters

warnings: mentions of therapy, grief, child abuse, keeping a child in a basement, starvation and malnutrition of a child, mentions of bruises, mentions of child protective services, bullying, and hospitalization

a/n: PLEASE READ WITH CAUTION ‼️‼️‼️This has very detailed scenes which may not be suitable for everyone. The last five letters will be the same, so heads up!

The Thirteenth Letter

Timothée stared out into the window, taking a deep breath as the plane soared through the clouds. He knew he had to continue reading the rest of Y/N's letters, as painful as it might be. He was terrified; there was no denying that. The mere thought of a young Y/N going through more suffering made his stomach churn, but he needed to know more. He would find her, protect her, and be there for her in any way he could. He couldn't change the past, but he could certainly make a difference in her future. He had to be there for her, to listen to her, to support her, and to show her that she wasn't alone anymore. Timothée swore to himself that he would do everything in his power to make sure that she felt safe and loved. 

Timothée took another deep breath before opening the thirteenth letter, dated August 11, 2023.

Dear Timothée, 

Sorry, this letter took a long time to write. I got caught up in therapy. I have a new therapist; her name's Gina. 

She asked me about the letters since I had mentioned them to Julie before and they were written in my file. Gina asked me if the letters were helping me, and of course I said yes. She asked if I could show her one, and I did. She took it and ripped the letter into pieces, right in front of my eyes. I honestly didn’t know how to feel; I just stared at the pieces of paper on top of the table.

Gina said a lot of things about coming to terms with my past in a natural and slow process and that maybe these letters weren't helping as much as I thought they would. Writing to you was riling up those painful and bad memories, only making me feel worse. She also mentioned that false hope wasn’t good for me, which is bullshit because I don't really hope for anything anymore.

I know you won't reply. I know you won't even read any of my letters. Hell, I know you won’t ever receive any of the letters I wrote. I just like to pretend that you do, that's all. 

After the 'session', Gina gave me a pamphlet. It was 'How to Deal with Grief and Coming to Terms with Loss'. It was shit, really. Because one of the bullet points says to talk about your loss with another loved one. Funny, because all of my loved ones are dead. So here I am, talking to you, because you are the next best thing. 

So anyway, here's the continuation of the story of my fucking life. 

I still spent the rest of my days down in the basement—locked up alone, scared, and nearly dead. I was sickeningly thin from malnutrition and dehydration. Bruises littered my body in all shapes and sizes; I had scratches all over—out of frustration and skin irritation from allergies, since I didn't get the chance to fucking clean myself. Every day, I prayed for some kind of miracle to set me free from that living nightmare. I didn't know how much longer I could survive in that hellhole. I could hear my aunt's voice upstairs every night, laughing and carrying on as if I wasn’t three feet under her house. It made me sick to my stomach to think about how she could go about her life while I suffered down below.

It didn't get any better, until my eleventh birthday came around. Honestly, I didn't know how long I was down in the basement. I had lost track of time, but it felt like I had been down here for years. Then one day, my aunt just dragged me out of the basement and shoved me into a bedroom upstairs. It turns out a social worker was looking for me. I was eleven, and the school year had just begun, but I wasn't at the local school, so child protective services got worried. My aunt got to work fast; she made me look as if I wasn't abused—that I was a normal and happy kid living with her. She did a fucking great job, I'm not gonna lie—she covered each and every blemish on my body with foundation and concealer—fucking impressive. She bought clothes, toys, and everything a child would need just so she could avoid getting arrested for child neglect. 

When the child protective services came again, I was forced to act like everything was alright and that I was in a happy home. I desperately wanted to tell the social worker the truth. I wanted to scream so badly and just run into the social worker's arms and beg her to take me away, but I couldn't. 

My life got a little bit better after that day, though. My aunt was forced to let me stay in the room upstairs rather than the cold basement downstairs since child protective services visited me every week. It was easier for her to let me stay in the bedroom than to make me look decent every time. I was never to leave the room unless necessary, not that I wanted to leave the room with my aunt around the house. I still got the bare minimum from her—I still got her scraps of food, but it was better than nothing. 

Then middle school happened. 

At first, I was excited to make friends with kids my age; I never had any growing up since I usually stayed at home with my parents and there weren’t really any kids in the neighborhood I grew up in. So, naturally, I thought that making friends would be easy.

I was too fucking stupid to believe that it would be easy. I mean who was I kidding? Middle schoolers were fucking mean—well,  not high school mean, but you get the point. I was bullied relentlessly, and I always dreaded going to school; it was torture. The kids in my class always made fun of me, calling me names and treating me like shit. I was the freakishly thin girl who always wore baggy clothes that no one wanted to be friends with. There was this one time when this girl—her name was Claire—tripped me in the hallway, and I crashed into the janitor’s cart. Bleach and other cleaning chemicals spilled everywhere—on my skin, on my clothes, and in my hair. It burned my skin so badly that I had to be taken to the hospital to get treated properly. Until now, I still have burn scars on my arms and neck area. I had to wear long-sleeved shirts to cover up my arms, though in the long run, the burns weren’t the only reason why I covered my arms up.

I just wanted a normal fucking life, but life decided to push me into a living hell. Was that too much to fucking ask? I’m so damn tired, Tim. I don’t think I can live like this anymore. I’ve been through so much, and what’s written in this letter isn't even half of what I’ve gone through.

I think it’s about time to stop writing, don’t you think? As if you’d answer me, God, I never fucking learn.

Maybe Gina does have a point. Maybe these letters really are making everything worse.

All my love, 

Y/n.

Timothée sighed, folding the letter and tucking it back in its envelope. He wanted to let her know that he was—in fact, listening—granted that it was a year late, he was listening. The pain and suffering she went through were unimaginable, and the guilt he felt for not being there for her when she needed him most was killing him. If the letters had just arrived earlier, he would have done anything to make it all easier for her. 

“I hope you're still here, Y/n. I hope you didn't give up.”

@helens3amstuff @gatoenlaciudad @thebetawolfgirl @lovemelikecrazyiloveyoucrazy @tchalamss @ashlynnmalfoy @imnotoverlyobsessive @crazycat-ladys-blog @michakune @mxltifxnd0m @spencerr3idd @dangelnleif @sthkate @ferrjulie @mel-vaz @elsagreeer @lovely-maryj @meowmeowmau @bobthe-turmpetman29 @saintcosette @ashisabitgay @ladyladybuggg @nyrasunderwrld @lizzxoxo @remussbitch @jadahxx @starrystormwritings @ell0ra-br3kk3r @dreary-salem @drewsandsebastianswife @greenapplegrass @lilianelena39 @danni-phant0m @haybellewrites @cloudlst @si4a @ev3ningrain @ttulipwritezz @bambikitten @bullets-from-another-dimension @siriuslycaptainofthedawntreader @reg-arcturus-black @abruuinlove @marina468 @3stelar @timhalamet @st4rf00k3r @idli-dosa @jimins15thhair @blacksgarden

[helens3amstuff]

he’s doing things to me

[tchalamet79]

Timothée Chalamet 🖤

[chronicallyillteengirl]

"But you haven't seen my man..."

[maralvaez]