#Timothée Chalamet x ofc

[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 💗

#fanfiction #my writing #timothée chalamet #Timothée #timothee Chalamet #fanfic #fanfics #timothée fanfic #timothee fanfic #timothée hal chalamet #Timothée Chalamet x oc #Timothée Chalamet x ofc #Timothée Chalamet x original character #Timothée Chalamet x original female character #Timothee Chalamet x oc #timothee Chalamet x ofc #timothee Chalamet x original character #Timothee Chalamet x original female character #original character #original female character #OC #ofc #fem oc #fem!oc #fem! oc #real person fiction #real person fic #real person fanfiction #real person fanfic #actor rpf

[imocean]

#call me by your name #cmbyn #elio x oliver #my edit #ofc is a tsoa quote #i will never get over this movie #timothée chalamet #timothee chalamet #i got inspo from somewhere but i can't remember where #armie hammer

[spideysbruh]

Big Sis

requested- could you do a timothee chalamet x zendayas sister with taylor russel as the face claim (instagram au) please :)

a/n- HOPE YOU LIKE IT I LOVE THE REQUESTT

~~

liked by zendaya, tchalamet and 3,276,627 others

y/n don't play w my sister!!! or do... see what happens 🤭 Challengers out soon !!!!!!

view all 121,177 comments

mikefaist miss seeing you on set !!!

y/n liked

y/n I MISS YOUUU MIKEYYY

zendaya second pic... I hate you

y/n 😘😘

ynzendayastan CANT WAITTTT

garfieldyn already seated

dunesarrakis timothée getting to know his besties family fr

liked by y/n, tchalamet, tomholland2013 and 3,177,277 others

zendaya happy birthday to my bestest friend!! proud to call you my sister and to know you like I do. forever grateful for you.

view all 123,177 comments

y/n crying.

cinderellayn HAPPY BIRTHDAY Y/NN

tchalamet wonder who took that second pic 🤔🤔

y/n I do be eating

prettyyn omfg.

arrakisyn rue... when was this ?!!

liked by tchalamet, florencepugh, and 3,282,277

y/n so grateful for another year, this one was pretty rad.

view all 99,177 comments

tchalamet heyyy that's me !!

zendaya PRETTY GIRLLL

ynscurtains BITCHHH OMGGG YOU AND TIMMY KNOW EACH OTHER !??!?!

zendayayn her sister is zendaya ofc they know each other 😭😭💀

tomholland2013 missed playing ping pong with you !! best birthday party ever

textyyn I bet timothée took that second picture LMAOO

prettyyn this soft launch is killing me

tchalamet just posted a story!

caption- we may be a bit hungover...

@celebgoss just tweeted- BREAKING ‼️‼️‼️ actress and model y/n, zendayas little sister, and timothée chalamet spotted out and about in NYC getting close and spending a lot of time together!! new couple or just friends?

@scrawnymfyn replied- BROOOOO OMG I'M UP

@twlightyn replied- THEY WOULD HAVE THE CUTEST CHILDREN

@paulsyn replied- such a hot couple

@yn replied- never met him

@realchalamet replied to @yn- same who are you

@amoebayn replied to @realchalamet and @yn- i can't with yall

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y/n recently 🌷

view all 211,188 comments

tchalamet wow

liked by y/n

tchalamet gorgeous

liked by y/n

wallowsyn THATS TiMMYYYY

rachelzegler literally flawless!!!

liked by y/n

megarayn this is the best timeline

shawnmendes nice!

yndefensesquad LET IT GO ALREADY 🗣🗣🗣

wonkaswhore he wants her back sooo bad he's embarrassing

laurieslaurence fr it's been YEARSSS

zendaya just posted a story!

caption- if he don't just sit down !!

liked by y/n, zendaya, tomholland2013 and 6,177,188 others

tchalamet happy anniversary, my princess. my love for you knows no bounds. seeing you smile makes me the happiest man on earth.

view all 762,177 comments

y/n love you so much I can't breathe

tchalamet i love you more

zendaya yall disgust me

heryn LMFAOOOO PLEASE

paulsarrakis god is real bc he bought them together

invisiblestringyn they're so cute imma throw up

liked by tchalamet, oliviarodrigo and 4,987,888 others

y/n i wanna leap when you want me to fly

view all 102,158 comments

tchalamet my favorite person

ynsheadphones they're too cute imma kms

spideyxyn THEYRE SO PERFECT FOR EACH OTHERRRR 😭😭😭😭

zendaya yall cute i guess

tchalamet just posted a story!

caption- wowww 😍

liked by tchalamet, rachelzegler, sabrinacarpenter amd 5,716,166 others

y/n just might be the luckiest girl alive 🩷🩵💜

view all

tchalamet ive got the cutest date of all time

ynsbracelet bro when will it be my turn

ynspillow im so obsessed with how happy she is with him

zendaya ill always remember when I first introduced yall 🥺🥺 so cute

rapunzelyn I WANNA KNOW THIS STORY OMFGGGG

tchalamet how are you so perfect?

liked by y/n

liked by y/n, rachelzegler, zendaya and 4,287,299 others

tchalamet ma moitié

comments have been limited

drewbarrymore you guys are too adorable!!!

y/n wait my duolingo isn't there yet

tchalamet liked

*

#timothee chalamet #timothee chalamet fanfiction #timothee chalamet imagine #timothee chalamet x reader #timothee imagine #timothee x reader #timothée chalamet #timothee chalamet au #timothee chalamet x you #timothée chalamet x reader #timothée chalamet imagine #timothée imagine #timothée x reader #timothee fanfic #timothee chalamet social media au

[chalametsimp]

Love Again 18+

Pairings: Timothée Chalamet x Reader

Summary: Takes place pre-Photographic Reverie. It’s Sunday night at Coachella, you and Timothée share it alone, doing indecent things to each other (while under the influence).

Warnings: drug use ! , alcohol and nicotine mentioned, face f*cking, unprotected sex (I don’t condone this or the use of illicit drugs).

Word Count: 2,550

Authors Note: Hi yall, sorry this took me so long, I’ve been really busy lately for absolutely no reason, thank you universe. Sorry if this is short ): I know I say that every time oop. I hope you guys like it. I also want to say I don’t condone the use of MDA or any other illicit drugs. *When I use the term “designer drug” I don’t mean a designer drug, a dd refers to a “pharmaceutically created” drug, one that is not natural, grown in a lab. Not glamorizing drug use. This is for the request below and for the other Coachella anon :) (sorry I lost that screenshot). Title by Run the Jewels ofc.

masterlist

“Face fucked you in your kitchenette

“Face fucked you in your kitchenette

Fucked you like we tusslin'.” His voice was low, quiet enough for only you to hear it as he sang along to the song. His chest was pressed to your back. His voice sent tingles through your body, you couldn’t tell if it was the words spoken or the chemicals coursing through your body.

Timothée continued “Do you ask him pretty please? Do you crawl on hands and knees? Like you used to do for me?” His hands rubbed your sides and you sighed with pleasure, all of his touches in this moment felt amazing.

“Pleasure come from punishment

Your threshold astonishin'

I think I'm in love again..”

His hands gripped your hips and he pressed himself against your back, breath fanning over your neck. You felt around in the near-dark for his hand on your body and you held your sweaty hand in his.

“Found my perfect drug again

Feel better than heroin” you finished for him, ass pressing backwards into him. Your gaze turned to meet his. Timothées lips turned into a smirk and he took your face in his hands, pressing a sloppy kiss to your lips. You kissed him back, tongue dipping out to rub against his parted lips.

The music sounded a little distorted for both of you, almost as if you were listening from underwater, but the bass was clear. He knew all the words and you could always hear his voice, just his voice. He pulled away to mumble “I put that dick in her mouth all day.

She got that dick in her mouth all day.” A giggle erupted from you and fell onto his lips. You thought back to all the times you did have his dick in your mouth all day. Another shiver ran through your body as salacious images ran passed your eyelids.

A restaurant bathroom, on your knees in front of him when he just couldn’t wait until you got home. Another time at home, his body sprawled across the bed as you laid below him, lazily lapping up his cock as he whimpered and whined under your mouth. You loved having his dick in your mouth, and he was more than well aware of that.

Suddenly your gazes were pulling away and then darting to meet each other and before any words could be said, Timothée was grabbing your hand and pulling you through the crowd.

“Here I am, my love

Just like when we first hooked up

Feeling like I'm animal

Feeling like you're edible

Bendable.” Played in the background as a soundtrack to this rendezvous. Peoples faces swirled as you passed the both of you, but you were too high and horny to acknowledge that. You stared at the back of the head of the man you loved, who was helping you weave through the crowd all the way back to your tent. It seemed as if everything was dark but him, he was your only focus. Timothée was immediately unzipping the tent and clambering inside, tugging his shirt off as soon as he got passed the threshold. You followed after him, doing the same with your own shirt. Before you could register anything with your slow reaction time, he was fumbling with your bra and as soon as your tits spring free. His hands were immediately glued to them, squeezing and kneading.

“Fuck, you look so good.” Is all he could manage before he was dipping down to attach his mouth to one of your nipples, his tongue swirling around the sensitive nub. You moaned out loud and he nipped down gently, your arch backing upwards at the feeling. Timothée pulled away to give the same treatment to the other one before he started creating a trail of kisses all the way down to your hips where he kissed and kissed again. He was now tugging off your skirt and before he could do the same with your panties you nearly pushed him away, reluctantly.

The lyrics of the song played in your head. “No, wan’ your dick in my mouth, please.” The way you were nearly begging for him, made him immediately sit up on his knees to push his pants and boxers down and he kicked them both away, whining, his cock springing forward to slap against his stomach.

“Please, yes, please.” His voice was pleading and before he knew it you were shifting from where you were laid and moved to sit on your knees in front of him. “What a pretty sight.” He purred.

Timothée stood up to give you a better angle and ran a hand through your hair, silently urging you. You took him in your hands and he hissed, hips immediately bucking forward. You licked one, hot stripe up his cock and swirled your tongue around the tip, gathering the sweet precum. “You taste so good.” You hummed, which made him whimper out loud.

“Thank you, baby. Please.” He whined for more contact, the sassafras making him even more needy and horny than he usually would be. You were eager to please him and you enveloped him in your mouth, your hands holding what your mouth wouldn’t fit yet. You swallowed around him and he moaned, tugging at your hair.

You ventured forward, your nose now grazing against his tummy as he slid all the way down your throat. Your hand dipped down to rub your clit over your panties, moans stifled by his cock. The vibration made him go crazy and he pleaded with his eyes to allow him to do one of his favorite things. You stared up at him through thick lashes and gave him a look that gave him the go-ahead. And before you could even think, his hands were both snaking in your hair and he was pulling himself out of your mouth before sliding back in, slowly at first, not wanting to hurt you.

But when he felt you hollow out your cheeks, getting ready for him, he knew he could do what he loved. Suddenly he was gripping your hair tighter and his hips snapped faster. His head fell back, along with his eyes, a litany of curses and your name tumbling from his lips. Your hands splayed at his hips, rubbing soft circles into his skin. It must have been twenty minutes of him fucking your face, but it felt like seconds for the both of you, eyes interlocked the entire time, gagging quietly against his dick. Before you knew it his hips were stilling, his body was freezing in place and he was cumming down your throat. The feeling was one you had never felt before. Sure, he had coated your throat more than a fair share of times. This time it felt different, like he was quite literally pouring love through your body.

He pulled himself out of your mouth, taking care to lovingly rub his tip along your wet lips. “Thank you so much, my angel,” Timothée was getting on his knees now to face you “I love you so much, you’re my world, thank you so much for allowing me to do that.” Teary eyed, but a smile painted his lips. Your hands came up to cup his warm cheeks, he whimpered quietly and leaned into your touch, I love you’s flooding from the both of you. Just I love you, and nothing else.

Your brain felt like it was buzzing in the silence, your high begging you for some kind of touch, but also music. You reached over for your phone and hit shuffle on a playlist, the song Fuckin’ n’ Rolling playing up first.

The name of the song and the situation made both of you burst into a fit off giggles. “Fucking AND rolling? This song was made for us, Timo.” You couldn’t help but giggle again and lay back, relishing in the way your body felt when you stretched out. You sprawled out some more on the air mattress below you. You stared at him, licking your lips, both of your pupils blown wide from the lust and the designer drugs.*

You laid there in all of your glory in front of him, thighs pressed together hard as you rubbed them against each other. “Poor, horny baby.” He cooed, running his hands down them to toy with your panties. “You need something too, don’t you?”

You couldn’t say anything, your words were caught in your throat. A puddle in his hands as he bent over you to run soft fingers up your sides, coming closer to your core with every cadence of his motions. “Timothée, please.” Finally something was able to escape from your diaphragm and he dipped his head down to press wet kisses to your cheeks. He rubbed his pelvis against yours, cock grinding against your soaked panties. “God, that feels so g-good.” Your hips bucked up against him.

“Oh, sweetheart,” the nickname made you whine loudly, “I haven’t even touched you yet, and you’re still this wet for me?” Still this wet for you? How could you tell him that it was nothing compared to how in this very moment you wanted to rip your heart out of your still beating chest and place it into his inviting hands? He always drove you crazy but right in this moment, you had never felt so connected with him. So connected with anyone. You whined fervently, hips oscillating upwards against him. You said nothing, just propped yourself up on your elbows and stared up at him, pout painted on your lips.

Timothée stayed silent too, something inside of him told him to shut the fuck up and enjoy the karmic experience that was about to happen. A blush spread across his cheeks and he was pulling your panties to the side carefully. He hiked your leg up on his shoulder and he pressed soft kisses to the inside of your knee. “I love you.” He whispered.

You wanted to cry with joy, “I love you too.” You whimpered and laid back down, motioning for him to come closer to you.

Which he complied with, feeling the same as you did. That if he wasn’t close to you, he just might die. So he was suddenly pushing himself inside of you, his face inching closer to your own. He didn’t move once he had sheathed his cock inside of you completely. His grip on your leg loosened and he pressed his forehead against yours. “Thank you so much for everything you do for me, thank you for allowing me to have you whenever I want,” Timothée was whispering again “I appreciate your body, I appreciate your mind.” He didn’t know why he was saying it, but it was true.

“I love you, Timothée.” You really really wanted to cry now, the sensation of him inside of you and the sweetness of his words felt incredible. You were sure you had never loved anyone more than you loved him, in this moment. A long moan slipped from your parted lips as you wiggled your hips against his desperately.

He couldn’t take this for long though, so he started to rock his hips against you, slowly at first, but increased his speed with every sound you made. The noises fueled his thrusts, becoming more needy by the moment. His hands gripped your hips now, your leg slumping down from his shoulder, legs spreading wider as he fucked into you, groans rumbling from his throat. His head fell forward and he pressed kisses to your lips to silence your moans.

Your hips rocked against his and your legs wrapped around his waist to pull him impossibly closer to you. Timothée leaned down to bury his face in the crook of your neck. When he started to press kisses to your skin, you could feel his wet face. You almost thought you had hallucinated that, until he sniffled quietly, hands running up your thighs and torso. You placed your hands on his face and gently moved him to look at you, noses touching. You whimpered softly, tears starting to fall down your cheeks just at the sight of him. He didn’t look sad, but he was crying, and it made you cry too. Connected completely.

The fluidity of his thrusts didn’t slow and he kissed your lips before whispering against your lips “I feel you.” You knew what he meant. You stayed quiet and pulled your hands from his skin in favor of reaching down to hook under your knees, spreading your legs wider for him. Timothée was extremely grateful for the newfound access. “Oh god, yes.” It was guttural and it made you wetter than before, he noticed this. “You feel fucking fantastic.”

“YOU feel fucking fantastic, Timothée, don’t stop. Please.” You moaned, voice breathy and anguished. The sound of his name made his pace quicken, the sound of both of you was impure and disgusting to anyone who heard. Your back arched up into his chest and one of your hands reached up to grab one of your tits, rolling the sensitive nipple in between your fingers. The both of your heads were thrown back in pleasure, your leg stretched impossibly high.

He hit your sweet spot and you nearly screamed out, hand lunging forward to grab his shoulder as your walls clenched around him. “Oh fuck,” he whined, “you’re going to make me cum, again.”

You were already way ahead of him, but the thought of being the reason his balls were almost completely empty sent you over the edge and the tension in your body released, cumming hard on his dick. Before your body could go limp, almost as if reading your biological next move, one of his arms was slipped under you and he pulled you close into his chest as he fucked into you, his own release following yours. Timothée cried out, his thrusts not slowing until he was completely finished.

He laid your body down gently and then he collapsed to your side. You instinctively crawled up and laid yourself in the crook of his arm, head laying on his chest. His heart beating loudly against your eardrum. “Thank you for fucking me.” You sighed and he turned to wrap his other arm around your warm body.

“You never have to thank me for that.” Timothée hummed and closed his eyes, sacred geometry etching faintly on his closed eyelids in ethereal colors. Ones he wasn’t sure he had seen before. He felt completely at peace, and so did you.

The both of you whispered I love you’s back and forth, lazily running fingers across each other’s back, taking pleasure in the almost silence in each other’s presence.

#timothee chalamet imagine #timothee chalamet x reader #timothee chalamet fanfic #timothee chalamet smut #timothee chalamet one shot #timothèe chalamet smut #timothée chalamet imagine #smut

[crispyimagines17]

Imagine:

Roadtripping all over Europe with your best friends, Harry and Timothée. 

#friday im in love mood #who are secretly in love with you ofc #pa completar el cliché hermoso #i want this #and my whole career paid #Harry Styles #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles imagine #imagine harry styles #Timothee Chalamet #timothée chalamet #timothée chalamet imagine #imagine timothée chalamet #timothee chalamet imagine #timothee chalamet x you #timothee chalamet x reader

[harryforvogue]

Fine Line*

in which Faye is a lonely local actress, Harry is a tattooist, and together they’re the world’s messiest “friends” with benefits without ever acknowledging it. And Timmy? Timmy just wants to join in on the fun. 12.8k words. happy reading :)

FEEDBACK IS NOT ONLY WELCOMED, BUT ALSO ENCOURAGED!

here is the link to my ko-fi in case you’d like to support me. thank you <3

***

Hey man you home rn?

Timothée looks down at his phone as it dings, expecting a message from his coworker asking why he’s been out for the past two days, but to his surprise, it’s his housemate, Harry. 

He picks up his phone and types back:

yea what’s up

Harry reads the message immediately. Think you can come to my room?

He sighs, and pushes the blankets off his body. He sets his feet down on the floor and uses every muscle in his body to stand up. He reaches for his sweatshirts and shivers as he tugs it on before walking over to Harry’s room.

He knocks on the door and then wraps his arms around himself. 

Harry opens the door and peeks his head out. He looks fucked out, shirtless and sweaty as if he’s just done a strenuous workout. “Hey man,” he says quietly. “Can you get me a glass of water?”

“You called me here for that? You realize it’s like midnight, right?”

Harry blinks slowly. “Sorry, were you sleeping?”

Timmy shakes his head. “No, but I’ve been sick for the past week and I just wanted to stay in bed…”

“I’m sorry ‘bout that,” Harry says quickly with a frown. “But, I’ve got a girl over and--”

“Yeah, I can tell,” Timmy grits. “I can hear you guys.”

“Right. Sorry. I can’t leave the room. Help me out?”

He doesn’t want to, but he can’t say no to the unkempt man in front of him. He unravels his arms from around himself. “Fine,” he says nasally, turning away. 

Harry calls after him, “Make sure it’s not too cold!”

When Timmy returns, the door is closed and he has to knock again. It takes a little while longer to get him to open the door, but Harry mutters a quick thanks and bids him goodnight. 

He’s back in his room and lays in his bed, wrapped up in his blankets. His eyes close. After hours of unsuccessfully finding sleep, his eyelids grow heavy and he begins to drift off. Faintly, he hears the shower turn on, and the soothing sound of the water lulls him to sleep.

***

It’s the next morning. Faye rolls over after a yawn rips through her. The one thing she loves about Harry’s place is how sunny it is. The transparent curtains in his bedroom allow the natural sun to stream right onto her face and it’s the best way she can think of to be woken up.

Beside her, Harry’s still asleep. After a tiring night, he needs his rest, and he always sleeps longer than her so she doesn’t ever get offended. She pulls the blanket up to her chin and snuggles closer to his shoulder. He shifts a little bit and turns his head back towards her so it rests on her head. 

Faye lays there for a while, stretching and yawning over and over again. With every little movement, she checks if Harry’s awake. He isn't even ruffled and she huffs, stubbornly pushing his calf with her foot. After 15 minutes, she pushes her sheets off of her and sits up. Her feet touch the ground as she bends over to pick up her clothing, forgoing a bra and simply placing her shirt back on. Her jeans are next, but she doesn’t want to look for her panties, so she walks over to Harry’s underwear drawer and picks out a pair of grey briefs. 

“Are you stealing from me now, Cherry?” Harry rough voice gruffs. 

She jumps at the sound, turning around hastily with his underwear in his hand. He’s got an amused expression, an at folded behind his head. 

“Nope. Just needed some fresh clothes.”

“Mhm. After you finished staring at me?”

She scoffs, bending down to shove her legs into the boxers. “Me? Stare at you? Never.”

“A thief and a liar, hmm?” The words are so nonchalant and teasing, her body heats up immediately, fixing her shirt over the underwear. 

“Not a liar,” she grumbles. Her legs carry her over to where he’s laying and uses her palms on his shoulders to keep him down as she straddles his hips, pressing her crotch against his. His cock twitches with interest. 

His hands fly to her waist, a look of disbelief on his face. “Oh please. Felt it all over.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t have been pretending to sleep.”

“So you were staring at me.” He smirks, stomach tightening when she pushes her index finger against his abs with a roll of her eyes.

A smile spreads across her lips as she withdraws her hands away from his skin. She places them in her lap and hums, “Thank you for last night. I needed it.”

“Don’t need to thank me for fucking you right.”

“I know but I really needed it. Been feeling so off recently…”

“S’alright.”

She continued to smile as she rolls off of him, reaching for her jeans at the end of the bed. Her crawl to that side of his king sized bed gives him a perfect view of his ass and he can’t help himself but give her a rough smack. 

She yelps, slapping his hand away with a glare. He innocently glances back at her.

She places the jeans on her body and adjusts her shirt once more. “Gonna go brush and leave, yeah? I’ll see you later.”

She doesn’t wait for his response. It’s not as if he’ll stop her from going. 

As he hears the water running, his eyelids grow heavy staring at the vacant spot beside him. With a hand, he runs his fingers over the area she once lay and then trailed up to where she rested her head on his shoulder. 

He wonders when later will be and hopes it’s soon. 

Faye meets his housemate when she’s leaving the house, jacket in hand. 

He’s just coming in with just a thin shirt and earbuds in his ears, sweating profusely. She’s surprised when he sends her a smile. “Hey,” he says. 

“Hi,” she replies, pushing her shirt back onto her shoulder only to have it slide back down.

“You’re Harry’s girl, right?”

She finds herself shaking her head. “No, uh, we’re just…” she plasters a smile on her face, “friends sort of.”

He laughs. “Weird kind of friend.”

“Yeah.” She shifts her weight awkwardly. “I’m Faye. Aren’t you sick? I think I...heard you say something about that last night…”

He lays a hand on his stomach and takes a deep breath. “Yeah, doing better now. And it’s pretty nice outside so I figured I’d get back into running.”

Faye nods and awkwardly pulls at her sleeves. “Gotcha. Well, it’s nice to meet you.”

“Likewise. I’m Timothée. Are you just leaving?”

She nods a sort of jerky nod. “Uh, yeah, I’ve got to get to work.”

He steps out of her way and motions her kindly to pass him, and she smiles at him once more. He’s nice, from what she can tell, and she hopes he’ll remain anything but a stranger to her.

***

Harry enjoys his job. He loves drawing up sketches for tattoos, watching people’s excited eyes light up as he turns his machine on, beginning the process. Today, he’s already had two appointments and now he’s done with his third one.

Harry sits back and shuts the machine off, placing it in its respective place. “Alright,” he tells the woman, smiling at her. “All done. You did so well.”

It’s a simple bumblebee on the inside of her arm, but somehow Harry’s made it look amazing with wings and the elegant writing on the side. She thanks him over and over and he continues to smile as he brings out the dressing and begins to finish up the tattoo. With his cash tip in his hand and a sticker on her shirt, he’s waving goodbye to her. He remembers enough of her visit to replay them to Faye later when they’re in bed.

Faye, although she’s never set foot inside this tattoo shop of his, loves to hear stories about his clients and the tattoos he’s done since the last time he’d seen her. She lays on his chest, tracing his own tattoos as she sleepily listens to him go on and on about this lengthy tattoos he’s done down the side of a man’s rib cage of a dragon or about how much a teenager had cried over her first tattoo on her wrist. Sometimes, he’ll pull out his phone to show her pictures from his Instagram, but usually she’s already asleep. 

He doesn’t know why she likes when he talks about his clients. Once, he asked her if she wanted to come in one day for a tattoo or at least a consultation, but she shook her head and said she just wanted to hear more about the sunflower he did on someone’s thigh. Regardless, he can’t argue with her when she’s sweaty and laying on him, still catching her breath and using this conversation as a form of after care, eyes closed and simply listening to him talk.

Harry leaves soon after his last appointment is done and heads to a sushi restaurant to grab some dinner. The place isn’t that far from his place, so he takes his time walking, not caring if he misses a bus or two, enjoying the rare London warmth that’s been very inconsistent these days. He arrives at his bus stop and brings his phone out. There’s a text from her. 

Hiya, wanna come over on Tuesday?

I would. But I have work until seven.

That’s okay! I’ll come over.

How did she reply so quickly? Isn’t she also at work?

Need me to pick you up?

Again, her reply is quick. He can’t help but wonder if she’s thought about this already. Nope, I’m going to be at the bar meeting with my cousins at that place near your shop, so I’ll come to you at seven and we can take the bus back to yours?

Don’t want to take you away from your family.

He enters the bus after swiping his Oyster Card and then sits down somewhere near the back. 

Oh, I’m dreading this. I already know the excuse I’m going to give them to sneak away.

You’re terrible.

He can hear her giggle. See you then!

***

Harry doesn’t see her much, with the exception of when she wants to see him. It’s every two weeks or something like that when she texts him (never calls) and asks for him to come over to forcefully invite herself over to his place.

He doesn’t mind when she remembers him suddenly out of the blue. It’s not like she’s his friend. He’s not sure he’d even want a friend whose sole purpose was to fuck. 

He doesn’t care for it at all, especially now when she’s laying besides him post sex, snuggled into his side with a fist around the duvet that’s neatly tucked under her chin. He’d gone pretty rough on her, taking advantage of the empty house he has to himself because his housemate has fucked off somewhere. 

She blinks her sleepy eyes at him, unfocused and unmoving from his face. “Hi,” she says quietly. “I’m back.” 

She likes when Harry shuts her off, making it so she can’t think or form coherent words. This is usually when she’s stressed about work or her family, her friends, or her health. When she calls Harry over, it’s usually a form of therapy for her, something she doesn’t want to admit.

He runs a hand through her hair, gathering the sweat in his palm with a scrunchy of his nose. She giggles. “Welcome back.” Her hooded eyes flutter shut at the feeling, pink mouth ajar as a smile spreads across her face. He admires her features for a quick second, in awe of how pretty she is. When she opens her eyes, he gazes into the dark brown color and when she doesn’t glance away from him, he realizes she’s not fully back yet as she simply stares it at him. She slowly raises a hand and slides a finger down his cheek. 

“I like your new mattress,” she says.

“You could tell I got a different one?”

She rolls her eyes. “How could I not notice?”

“It’s funny, I don’t think my housemate even noticed. I got it after he moved in.”

Her eyes become a little less glassy. “Speaking of which. He’s kinda cute, don’t you think?”

Harry shrugs a shoulder. “Not really my type.”

“Is he dating anyone?”

“I’m not sure,” he says uneasily. “I don’t know him that well.”

“Oh.” She sounds sad. “He’s really cute.”

Harry doesn’t really know what to say. He’s terrible at conversing with her so normally, and about something that’s making him so uncomfortable, he almost feels angry at himself for feeling this way. He replies, “Maybe you should fuck him.”

Faye hums, shrugging a shoulder. Then, a slow smile spreads across her face. “Maybe I will.”

He tells her to shove off and go to sleep, but she whines and shakes her head. She instead cuddles closer to him and places her hand on his butterfly tattoo. “Any new stories for me?” 

“I did a bumble bee on this teenager a few days ago. She cried almost her entire way through.” 

He doesn’t need to look at her to know her eyes are closed. “Yeah?” she says, hushed. “That’s awful. Tell me more.”

“She was happy when I gave her a sticker. It said ‘Survived My First Tattoo!’. You can get one when you get your first one. She had pink hair too, but it was darker.”

“I’m thinking about getting bangs. My cousin has them and they look really good on her. Plus, my forehead is huge so it’ll conceal it.”

He scoffs. “Your forehead isn’t huge.”

“I know it is, don’t worry. I think bangs would look good and my hair is fading out so when I go back to my normal color, it’ll look even better. Maybe I’ll get…” she trails off, yawning loudly, “less stares than I do now.”

“I think people stare at you because you’re hot.”

“Yuck,” she says with a scrunch of her nose. “Don’t say that.”

“Whatever, Cherry. Do whatever you’d like with your hair.”

She hums happily, her eyes closing again. His massive hands rub over her bare back gently, running over the skin wondering how she’s so soft. He’s disappointed in himself for getting distracted so easily when it comes to her. Her pink hair, her red mouth, her almond eyes. 

“You’ll still call me Cherry even though my hair won’t be red?”

Harry chuckles softly, placing his leg over hers to encase her in his embrace. “I don’t call you Cherry because of that.”

“Is it because you like popping my cherry?”

He laughs a little louder. “I think you can only pop your cherry once, first of all. And second, I call you Cherry because you wore cherry chapstick the first time we hooked up.”

Her brows pull together for half a second before her face relaxes again. “Oh yeah. You’d told me that.”

“I’ve told you this multiple times.”

She takes a massive breath, holds it in, and waits five seconds before letting it out. “Yeah.” She peeks at him. “I’m going to stay here tonight. That’s okay, right?”

He pushes his bottom lip out and nods, leaning in. Under the impression that he’s going to kiss her, she leans in as well, but instead he simply flutters his lashes against her cheek. She giggles at the sensation. “That’s very okay.”

***

When Faye arrives at the theatre, a sinking feeling in her stomach makes her wants to get on the next bus and go home immediately. The stage is being set up for rehearsals, but excitement doesn't strike her. Instead, she holds her manuscript tighter in her hand, suddenly wishing she was sick or out of town so she didn’t have to experience this. How could a place she loves dearly make her feel so helpless and lonely?

She loves her job. Being a local actress is incredibly fun as it satiates her dire need to be creative all the time, and she’s even landed a role as the lead, however although it comes with songs and dances and a dramatic speech as she stares out into the audience while holding her hand out, she wishes something else could come with it.

Her fellow actress passes by her and says hello. Faye lightens up. She follows the girl to the dressing rooms, but the girl ends up sitting in the chair closest to her other friends and Faye watches them excitedly converse about the play without her. She removes her jacket and sits down, reaching for her script shakily.

Friends. She wishes friends came with this job. Just two or three would do the job. She wouldn’t be needy either, only texting them when she needed to, hanging out once a week.

She wishes there were a limit to just how much of an introvert a person could be. She stutters over her words as she even makes conversation with the makeup artist, and designer, choosing to forgo telling her that the dress she’s in is way too tight, deciding to deal with the indents of the seams on her skin later as she rubs lotion onto them. 

This career requires her to be open and in touch with her communication skills, but something tells her that she’s only gotten worse at it. Even her therapist and her agree that she’s become more of a sheltered person because of her nature. It’s not her choice to drive people away; she just can’t keep them in her life long enough to be interested in her. 

While she’s on stage though, she can be someone else. She doesn’t have to be the girl she really is: frightened of stepping out of her comfort zone to make a friend or two. In this play, she’s an independent woman and she’s belting out lyrics that represent uniqueness and individuality. She’s nothing like that in reality, but for the time being, she can escape who she’s become. She can dress up in elaborate costumes and convey thoughts that aren’t her own. Her therapist thinks it’s not a good idea that she buries herself into her work because she’s pretending to be someone else nearly every night, fooling the people around her, but Faye simply argues back that without fooling other people, she wouldn’t be anyone memorable. Making a lasting impact on people so they have some sort of memory of her in their minds...that’s what she wants. 

She sits in her chair after rehearsals are over. The opening night is in two weeks. The other actors and actresses have left and she’s sitting there in the dim lit room, trying not to reach for her phone as she removes her makeup. 

Giving in to the urge, she picks up her phone and sighs as she checks her emails and messages. They’re from her mom and the group chat for the play. Nothing else.

***

Faye sits in the chair as her hair dresser works around her, grabbing the spray bottle. The woman asks her to close her eyes, and then she sprays the water onto her separated hair, causing them to stick together. When she opens her eyes, there’s a pair of scissors dancing in front of her, and before she can open her mouth and back out, the snip of the utensils is heard and her beautiful pink hair falls to the ground. She gasps, and the hairdresser hides her smile, asking her to keep her head up.

She looks good though. Her lashes peek through her sparse bangs and she looks older. She had thought she would look younger, but she looks confident. She even ties her hair up and stares at herself in the mirror, bringing her phone to to the window to take pictures. She even smiles in one of the pictures and saves it for her social media profile picture. 

The days are getting warmer, and although she’s been trying to be more happy herself, there’s a bit of her that hardens to stone and falls to the pit of her stomach when she thinks about how lonely she’s becoming. Staring at herself in the mirror has become too much for her, and even though she’s feeling good about her appearance right now, she can’t help but look away after she peers closer at herself, noticing that her eyes are sad. Her mouth is curved upwards, but nothing is reaching her eyes.

After many conversations with her therapist, they’ve collectively decided that Harry provides her with the only form of sanity these days. She is encouraged to talk to him more and befriend him and go past sleeping with him, but it’s been difficult.

Even now, she’s sitting on her bed, phone open, typing in a message to send to Harry. She’s telling him that she wants to come over, but she can’t bring herself to press send. When she finally does, Harry answers quickly, agreeing with her. 

He’s surprised when he opens his door to see her, but he just politely said that it looks nice and then grabs her by the front of her jacket and drags her inside. 

Sex with Harry can never get repetitive. He finds new ways to treat her body right, and it makes her wonder if he thinks about doing these things to her beforehand. Perhaps while he’s tattooing someone. Or when he’s stroking himself late at night. 

This time, he holds her wrists above her head and fucks into her until she’s nearly crying and biting his neck to muffle her noises. When the tears fill up her eyes, that’s when he knows she’s feeling the best. Sometimes she’ll whisper words of encouragement, but as she slips, she resigns and accepts the feeling.

Giving up her control is something she’s struggled with especially the way her life is going, but when Harry wraps a hand around her neck and whispers in her ear, she has no problem handing it over.

He lands kisses onto her neck and continues down to her chest. Her body is still sore from how he’d fucked her a few minutes ago, but she’d been so eager for him to enter her that the pre game teasing wasn’t enough for her to begin slipping, and he really wants her to slip. So he’s gathered her into his arms and began lazily kissing her. He has his boxers back on because the attention was supposed to be turned to her, but something tells him that’s not what she entirely wants. 

She’s releasing soft, beautiful moans that have him squirming under her. He places a hand around her throat, not squeezing, but just holding her as he pulls her lips away from his cheek. He presses a bruising kiss to her mouth as he slowly backs away.

“No,” she whispers with a whine in her voice, “keep kissing me.”

“Hey, who is in charge here?” he replies, tapping her jaw. Her eyes open and her hands slide down to her sides. Just from her hazel eyes, he can tell that she’s still slipping. “Tell me.”

“You. You, but please, I just wanna…”

“Wanna what?”

“Kiss!” she moans, forcing her hands into his hair again. “I wanna kiss and then suck you off.” Her eyes suddenly become large and pleading. “Please? Will you let me?”

“Since you’re asking so nicely,” he tells her, removing his hands from her neck and putting them around her waist. “Come here and give me a kiss.”

She nods eagerly and slowly leans in, catching his bottom lip with her mouth. She suckles on him before kissing him, something that makes him twitch, and she feels him against her thigh so he hand drops to wrap around him. “Okay,” she says breathlessly. “Now I wanna--”

“Watch your teeth,” Harry tells her warningly as she climbs onto his lap, eagerly pawing at his boxers. “Hey, do you hear me? Look at me.” It takes her a second, but she finally looks up at him and blinks. “Good girl. Mind the teeth, yeah?”

“Yeah I am going to…” she trails off, voice quiet. 

“Go ahead.”

She nods once more before dragging her fingers down to his bulge, giving him a quick squeeze before pulling his boxers down. He lifts his lips up to let her pull them down and then kicks them off. He hears her take an audible breath before climbing up the length of his body and kissing him.

He’s momentarily taken aback by her confidence and kisses her back roughly. She opens her eyes to look pleadingly at him. 

“Please?” she mumbles. “Can I suck you off?

He doesn’t want to push her too hard, so he nods and pushes himself upright onto his elbows. “Already told you. You can. Go ahead,” he repeats.

She spreads his legs and sits between them. With a gentle hand, she wraps her fist around him and gives him a tentative pump, glancing up at him only once to gauge his reaction and when his breathlessness seems enough for her, she opens her mouth and envelopes him into her mouth.

Getting a blowjob from Faye seems to be the highlight of whenever they fuck. She’s not very well experienced and often needs guidance, but Harry knows she wants to make him feel good. The ambition behind it is what drives him insane, as if there’s nothing better than having his cock in her mouth. 

She pulls back and swirls her tongue around him. Harry takes his bottom lip between his teeth and let out a hiss. 

“There you go,” he murmurs encouragingly, looming his hand over her head. As she gets a better latch on him, he buries his fingers in her hair. 

But after a few sighs and her shifting her head from under his hand, he releases her and allows her to sit up, heels under her butt. 

“Changed my mind.”

“Yeah? You okay?” Harry asks quietly. He brushes her bangs away from her face, making a note to remind her to pin them back next time.

“Tired. Jaw hurts."

“Good job on letting me know,” he says. “Alright, let me take over and then we can go to bed. How does that sound?”

Her eyes light up. “Good!”

He has to hide a smile as she crawls closer to him. With a quick movement, she straddles his lap and then reaches over to his drawer to pull out a clean condom. She holds it out to him and he takes it from her with a nod of gratitude. 

She watches him put the foil in his mouth and rip it. He discards it, rolls it onto his cock and then wraps hand around her thighs to draw her closer and then presses himself to her entrance. 

“Alright. Put me in,” he says quietly. “C’mon baby, go on.”

She reaches for him immediately, pushing him inside of her.

“That’s...wow,” she whimpers, throwing her head back. “You feel so....”

His hands are splayed on her waist, pushing her down on him further. “Yeah? Feel me right here?” He presses his fingers into her navel gently. “Second time in an hour.”

“Yes!” she breathes. “Yes, it’s so good. Thank you.”

“Good,” he mutters at her manners, but it’s hushed, only for himself.

“Feels good for you?”

Harry has to smile at that, nodding. “Yeah. Feels amazing. You always feel amazing.”

“Thank you, H.”

He bucks his hips against hers over and over, before throwing his head back and letting out a low groan. It makes her glance down at him excitedly. She picks up her speed to coax another sound out of him and it’s enough to make his eyes flutter shut, pressing his tongue to the roof of his mouth.

“Want you to cum,” she whispers to him, tears in her eyes. “Can you, please?”

“Aren’t I supposed to be saying that?” he says roughly, grabbing onto her waist. “Turn around.”

She pulls off of him slowly and then follows his hands as they mold her into Harry’s favorite position. He mounts her from behind and lines himself up, pushing against her folds as she lets out a broken moan. “Harry…” she hiccups, followed by a sniffle. “Harry, please, I need—”

She drops her face to the mattress and wiggles her fingers behind her back to entice him into holding her hands. He enters her and then grabs her hands tightly in his, lacing their fingers together. “Fuck,” he curses, sweat covering his entire body. “Fuck me, always treat me so good, don’t you?”

“Y-Yes...always so good.”

“When I tell you to cum, what are you gonna do?”

She gasps, digging her nails into the back of his hand. “Gonna cum.”

“Good girl,” he grunts, enjoying the sound of their skin slapping.

“I can’t hold it off!”

“Don’t have to.”

The sharp thrusts are what send her over the edge. She orgasms loudly, whining and clawing at his hands desperately as she rides through her high, Harry joining quickly, unable to keep it down as she pulsates around him. He throws his head back and groans, releasing himself into the rubber over and over.

She falls onto the mattress on her belly as he’s pulling out, removing his hands from her waist because he was her only support. He discards the condom and then lays beside her, also on his tummy. 

He brushes through her bangs once more, watching her eyes flutter shut and a slow smile spread across her face. A smile is on his own lips. Now she’s under.

“I like your bangs,” he whispers, still running his fingers through them. She reaches up to kiss his palm slowly, before opening her eyes and shifting closer to him. He ends up on his back and lets her cuddle with him, her hands on his tummy. It tickles him, and he laughs, but doesn’t push her away. 

“Thank you.”

He turns his head and kisses her forehead. “You’re welcome.” He drags his nose down her cheek. “How are you feeling?”

She blinks, owlish. “Best I have in a long time.”

He chuckles and doesn’t speak. Silence with Harry is never awkward. They lay there and catch their breath, and he only turns to speak after she yawns. “Can I say something?”

“Yes.”

“Are you really attracted to my roommate?”

She giggles. “He’s hot.”

“And you’d like to fuck him?”

“I wouldn’t be opposed to the idea.”

He pinches her cheek. “Cute. And would you like me to talk to him about it?”

She wiggles in his arms, pressing her naked body against his, both of their bodies hot like furnaces. “I’d be interested in a threesome more.”

He blinks in surprise. “You’d want me there? You don’t want him to yourself?”

She shakes her head and takes a deep breath. “No. Not at all.”

He smiles. “Well, I can ask Timothée.”

Her eyes fly open and she hums, pursing her lips. “Are you comfortable with that?”

“Absolutely,” he whispers, dragging his hand down her cheek. She pushes her face closer.

“Okay then. Only if you’re okay with it.”

“I’m in no position to keep you to myself.”

The smile doesn’t leave her face as she says almost inaudibly, “Wouldn’t it be nice if you did?”

Harry’s heart flutters, a pain in his ribs. His eyes dance over her beautiful face from her pink hair to her lips. “You’d be okay with that?”

She hums, a yawn ripping through her. “I’d just like to imagine that one day someone will want me only for themself.” She turns her head to look at him sleepily. “You know?”

His entire body might as well be trembling from how hard his heart is beating. “Yes,” he breathes. “I know. I’d like that very much too.”

She presses her face into his neck and hugs him tightly. Well, as tight as she can do with her jelly-like arms. “I think we’ll find our person soon. Don’t you worry.”

He kisses her head once more. “Do you want to take a bath?”

She shakes her head and yawns again. “No, H, I just wanna sleep.”

“Get under the covers then.”

Harry pulls away so Faye can lay down properly and he drapes the comforter over them. She latches onto him like a magnet, face in his neck. “Goodnight,” she murmurs, lacing her fingers with his. He checks the time and it reads six pm. He smiles and repeats the word and squeezes her hand anyway.

***

On Friday, she sends him a text that has him nearly falling over. He has to check over his shoulder and make sure nobody is looking at his phone. His pants are tight, his breathing hard.

It’s her. It’s a picture of her shirtless in just her underwear and her hair covering nothing below her collar bones. Having just freshly showered, she’s still in the bathroom. He suddenly chokes on his own saliva.

A coworker comes up and slaps a hand on his back. Harry quickly shuts his phone and shoves it into his pocket. “Heading out for food. Wanna join us?”

Harry shakes his head and his cheeks are pink. He already knows. “Uh, I’m good actually. I’m going to head to a friend’s place.”

“Oh, okay.”

Harry licks his lips and takes a shaky breath. “Actually, you know what? I’m pretty much done for today and I’m going to make the rest of the designs at home. I’m going to take off.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah. Have fun.”

The man departs with a wave and when the coast is clear, Harry drags a gloved hand down his crotch. He sends her a text back as he’s heading to his station to grab his jacket and keys.

Leave your door open. I’m coming in twenty minutes.

***

He brings it up when Timothée is in the kitchen making dinner. There’s rice in the rice cooker and beans or something on the stove, and when Harry comes down to grab a glass of juice, he realizes this is his best chance.

“Hey,” he starts, resting his back against the counter he leans on. “Wanna talk to you about something.”

Timothée looks up from his stirring. “Yeah?”

“You know Faye?”

“Your girl? Yeah.”

(Harry tries his best to ignore the way his mouth molds into a smirk when he calls her his girl.) “Would you be interested in a threesome?”

The smirk falls right off his face and he raises his eyebrows instead, turning his body fully towards him. The stirring is completely forgotten about. “Like with you and her?”

“Yeah, man.”

“I’m not…”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. You don’t have to touch me. It would be you and me, and her. She wants it.” He adds quietly, “And I’m up for it too, if I’m honest. Doesn’t have to be with you if you don’t want it to be.”

“So, like, she’s talking through you?”

Harry chuckles. “She can be a little shy sometimes, but she wants this. Have you done it before?”

Timothée’s eyes light up. “Have a threesome? Yeah, once. Really fun.”

Harry reaches across the counter to grab an apple. He bites into it without washing it, something that irks Timmy, but he doesn’t comment on it.

“It can be like that. Why don’t you think about it and let me know or something, yeah?”

“Sure,” he continues to stir again. “Have you got a day set?”

“Nothing set yet. Just wanna know what your thoughts are.”

Timmy nods. “I’m down. Are you guys like...a thing?”

“No, no. We just hook up.”

“She seems pretty hooked on you.”

Harry snorts and shakes his head. “No. We just sleep together.”

“If I join you guys, is it going to get messy with feelings and all?”

“Of course not. There aren’t any feelings between us. She thinks you’re really cute though, so don’t be surprised if she falls in love with you or something.”

Timmy laughs, scratching his ear absentmindedly. “Nah, I’m not looking for anything.”

“Alright well, I’ll tell her you’re up for it, yeah?”

“Yes. Finally something to look forward to.” Harry doesn’t press about the matter anymore as he walks around the roommate and bites into his apple again.

***

When the day arrives, they’re both bouncing with anticipation. She comes over, and Timmy is the one to open the door this time, and while her heart spikes at the mere sight of him, imagining what she’ll be doing to him as the day progresses into nighttime, Harry’s face behind him eases her instantly. Her safe person. He’s there to keep everything running smoothly.

They each have one drink and when things escalate, Harry says it’s time to go to the bedroom to which his roommate and Faye both agree. The order of them going up the stairs is her, then Harry, and then Timmy who has already been told what to expect from her. 

She’s gentle, and loving, and not at all what his last threesome consists of, and as she shyly motions Timmy closer, he decides that he’s fond of her. She’s a very sweet person.

When he kisses her, Faye learns the first difference between Harry and him. While Harry is firm and at times arrogant, Timmy is a little cautious and keeps opening his eyes to silently ask her if his hands are okay on her waist, on her shoulders...on her hips.

“Just one thing. Be careful with her neck,” Harry murmurs, kissing down her shoulders as Timothée’s hand caresses her jaw soothingly. “Always has pain there, so I’d just avoid putting too much pressure on it, yeah?”

As Timmy withdraws his lips from hers, he nods to show his understanding, but Faye is quick to jump to her own defense. “I got adjusted like two days ago, so I’m good.”

“Adjusted?” Timmy asks, pressing his thumb against her bottom lip. 

Her large doe eyes blink at him as she smiles. “Yeah, like at the chiropractor? The pain is barely there anymore.” She watches Timothée sink to his knees on the floor, cupping her face sweetly.

“You take care of yourself, don’t you?”

She just smiles and nods, a bit shyly, and it makes Timmy happy that she’s communicating very well, however it makes Harry’s heart spike with adoration and he’s suddenly very proud of her for doing this for herself. He wants to vocalize that he’s pleased with her, however his kisses portray that well because as his feathery touch continues down her back, she giggles and looks over her shoulder at him.

“Are you happy, H?”

Timothée’s a little surprised at her words, but Harry easily replies, “Yes, very.”

“Good.”

The look Harry receives from the other man makes him shake his head and say, “She likes making me happy.” He turns his attention to her hair, scratching her skull gently. “Isn't that right?”

“Yes,” she whispers, closing her eyes at the nice feeling. “I love making you happy.”

There’s a smile on Timmy’s face as he slowly understands the dynamic between his roommate and the woman he supposedly only hooks up with. There’s a romantic message hidden within every scratch of her scalp and every hum she releases, and he shifts closer, cupping her cheeks again.

“You guys are cute,” he remarks, bringing Faye in for a gentle kiss. She giggles against his mouth and kisses him back.

Harry begins to run his hands down her back, and then lets them wander around to her stomach, dipping lower to unbutton her jeans. She pulls away from Timmy long enough for him to remove the jeans from her and Timmy joins them on the bed.

She turns around and wraps her arms around Harry as Timothée places his arms around her waist. Faye looks into Harry’s eyes and Harry sends her a soft smile back before kissing her gently. Their kisses are very different, she realizes, as Harry is firm but careful while Timmy is urgent and hot. Together, they make the best combination and she can only hope that she makes them feel as good as she’s feeling right now. 

With a quick tug, Timmy pulls Faye towards him and Harry follows eagerly, dragging his hands down her shoulders and the sides of her breasts again. She hums, craning her neck to catch more of his lips. He lets her kiss him as much as she’d like.

She lets Harry move the duvet away, after he asks her if it’s alright, because he knows she enjoys being under the covers. There’s something more intimate about it, but that won’t work with three people in a bed. As he’s removing a condom from his drawer, Timmy takes a step back and points his thumb towards the door.

“I’ve got my own box,” he says quietly. “I’m gonna go get it.”

Harry nods and doesn’t watch him leave, turning his attention on Faye. He pokes her cheek. “Hey. You alright?”

“Really good. Really happy.”

“Me too, Cherry.”

“Timmy’s nice.”

Harry nods again. “Yeah, he’s nice.”

“Kind of awkward, too. Like he doesn’t know what he’s doing.”

“I’m pretty sure he knows what he’s doing,” he answers, tugging on a strand of her hair. “Wouldn’t let him be here if he didn’t know.”

“This is fun.” She says it like it’s a secret.

Harry taps her nose. “And we haven’t even started yet.”

Timmy returns and finds Harry holding Faye, and the smile on his roommate’s face tells him that everything is good. Faye eagerly pulls away from Harry and goes to Timmy. He’s already unbuttoning his shirt and Harry follows him, a hand on her back to let her know he��s right there. 

Timmy kisses Faye nicely, bringing her to him with a swift motion, laying his mouth on her. He’s cautious again, Harry’s hands behind her around her waist creating a sandwich. She giggles at it, and Timmy pulls away, murmuring, “Somethin’ funny?”

She shakes her head and smiles. “Nope.” And then she kisses him again. His hands slide under her shirt and slowly begin to pull up, which means Harry needs to move back to allow the material to pass through the small gap between them. Once the material is discarded, he latches himself back onto her and kisses her neck. She sighs and tilts her head, enjoying the soft, wispy kisses. She smells like vanilla and tastes so sweet, he has a hard time pulling away from her, but she’s palming Timmy through his jeans and he clearly wants something too.

She pulls away and slides out from between them. She sits on the bed instead on her heels and holds her hands out, waiting for them. Harry joins her on the bed behind her while his roommate stands in front of her, unzipping his jeans. “Is this alright?” he asks her, thumbing at her lips. Faye nods eagerly, so Timothée continues, “You’ll tell me if you want me to do something different, right? Because I don’t really know you and I don’t want to make you uncomfortable in anyway.”

“I’ll tell you if I’m uncomfortable,” she promises, hearing Harry’s belt hit the floor so she pulls Timmy’s down as well. “And you’ll do the same?”

“Yes,” he whispers, tangling his fingers in her hair as he pulls her forward. “Wanna get me in?”

She nods again, eyes shining with excitement. He turns to the side and grabs a rubber from the box. As he busies himself with that, Harry leans forward and says in her ear, “Gonna let me fuck you? Wanna get on your hands and knees?” With a soft moan, and she brings herself into that position and enjoys the sensation of his hands all over her body, closing her eyes. Harry slowly drags her panties down and tosses them aside, gently spreading her legs.

Meanwhile, Faye’s got her hand on Timmy’s dick, slowly running her hand over him, making sure to note all the things he likes. He enjoys the extra attention at his tip, and also the squeezes she gives him. They bring a moan forward from his body, and she finds that she likes his sounds so he continues. She opens her mouth and takes him in, feeling the lube on his length to be a little annoying, but it still gathers a beautiful noise from him, so she continues without hesitation.

Harry fumbles with his condom a bit as he puts it on, because he is in awe of the way she wraps her lips around him. His breathing has accelerated and his fingers tremble a bit as he places it on, but eventually he gets it and he sighs, giving himself a warning squeeze. He runs his middle finger along her wetness and nearly chokes on his saliva at how ready she is to take him. “Need lube, baby?” She pulls away from Timmy long enough to croak, “Just a little.”

“Okay. Timothée, open up the drawer next to you and hand me the little bottle.” Timmy does as he’s told, gently pushing her away and reaching for it. He hands it off to Harry who places a small dollop on his condom covered tip and slides his hand down to coat himself.

“Please,” Faye says, with a pout, no doubt. “Just do it already. C’mon on.”

“Well alright, Ms. Bossy Pants,” he hums back, tugging on her hair warningly. He brings himself to her and slowly enters, stopping halfway to check with her. She’s whining against his roommate and pushes herself back to take the rest of him. From there, he begins an even, gentle pace. 

“So good,” Timmy whispers to her, scratching her scalp lightly as he’d seen his roommate do. Timmy is astonished as he hears the wetness that Harry and Faye have created. Harry’s hands grip her waist as he increases his thrust, pushing into her harder than before, but not enough to make her throat hurt from the shrieks she’s known to let out. The hand around Timmy tightens the better he fucks into her. 

“Fuck, Harry,” she groans, taking a break from massaging Timmy with her skillful tongue. “That’s so fucking…”

After a few slow thrusts, she attaches her mouth back onto Timmy. His head is thrown back with pleasure, the only sound between then being their breathy moans and Faye’s gentle hums as she rolls forward. 

Harry jokes, “Should have put some music on.”

“You guys never do that,” Timmy replies. “Or else I’d get some sleep every time you guys have sex.”

Faye would laugh if she could, but she does make a noise similar to a cocky scoff which only has Harry grabbing her tighter and presses into her. 

He continues to fuck her at different speeds. Sometimes he hurries and uses his full force and other times he watches himself slowly leave her body up to his tip and then slowly enter her again. The lazy rolls of his body cause deeper groans from her and it makes Timmy jolt from the sensation. 

Only ten minutes later, her hands are trembling around Timothée, and his whispering words of encouragement have only gotten louder. She pulls off of him and whimpers, removing one hand from the mattress and places them behind her. She wiggles her fingers at Harry, silently pleading him to hold her hand. 

Harry looks down at it, and instead of helping her out, he slides his hand over to her waist and squeezes her.

Faye looks at Timothée with a pout. He’s being mean.

“Hold her hand,” he breathes, almost pleading with him, bringing himself back to her lips. 

“You want that? Want me to hold your hand, baby?” Harry says.

Faye pulls off of Timmy and nods, quick and jerky motions. 

“Ask me, then.”

“Can you hold it, please?”

There’s a bit of a whine to her voice, and it catches him off guard. Gently, he grasps her hand and laces their fingers together. She lets out a sigh of relief and squeezes his hand. 

Harry slides his fingers into Faye’s hair as she eagerly latches onto Timmy, pulling her away a bit. Timmy sends Harry a quick nod of thanks, but he’s still understanding the relationship between them, so he’s a bit confused still.

“Wanna switch places? Put on a fresh rubber.”

Timmy’s nodding before his roommate can even finish his sentence as they both pull out and switch sides. He keeps a hand on her shoulder to steady her, making sure she doesn’t fall and Harry crouches in front of her. Timmy busies himself by grabbing another rubber from the box.

Harry gently holds her head up. “Cherry. How are we doing?”

She smiles at him, leaning in for a kiss. “Really good. Best idea ever.”

“Yeah?"

“Feels too good.” She beams as Harry laughs, kissing her temple gently.

He brings her in for an urgent kiss again. His lips feel different than Timmy’s and she immediately is reminded of how well he kisses. How had she forgotten in fifteen minutes? She leans in to catch more kisses, refusing to open her eyes. They lazily kiss until she feels Timmy’s hands on her waist, and Harry slowly pulls away. 

“Good?”

She hums, tilting her head. “So good. How ‘bout you?”

His cheeks stretch apart with a smile. “Really good.”

He doesn’t really ask, not wanting to ruin their moment, so Timmy applies the small dollop on lube on himself as well. As he enters her, her eyes flutter shut and she holds back a groan that Harry knows she’s desperate to make. Instead of pressing her closer to get her mouth on him, he simply watches her take him. His thumbs run over her cheeks and when her eyes reopen, her brows press together and she quickly takes a hold of his wrist. He opens his fingers and lets her weave her own through, a teasing sentence coming to mind, but he forces it down and instead comments, “You really like holding my hand.”

She just nods, unable to suddenly speak, digging her nails into his skin. 

“You’re so cute,” he purrs, kissing her forehead. “Wanna lay back?”

Timothée’s already pulling her in that direction. He pulls out of her as she lays on her side, turning around to check for him. Timmy smiles and pulls her closer by the waist, kissing her shoulder and neck softly, making sure not to do anything but sensually tickle her with his mouth as he slowly enters her again. They both release relieved sighs and he picks up his rhythm immediately.

Harry follows them onto the bed and lays beside Faye, hands on her tummy. He leans down and pulls her chin up to kiss her lips once more. One of her hands holds Timmy’s wrist on her stomach, and the other cups Harry’s face. His tongue slides in easily to play with hers, dominant and wanting, a small growl bubbling in the middle of his throat when she clutches his curls. He withdraws only once to catch his breath (to which she gives him a crooked, triumphant grin) and when he pulls her back in for a kiss, a moan falls from her lips, tightening her hold on him.

“Is he treating you well?” Harry purrs in her ear, biting down on the lobe. 

“Yes,” she whimpers, eyes shut. “So well, oh shit…”

“Moan so pretty, you know that?” Timmy adds himself into the mixture, wetting his finger before dragging it down the valley between her breasts and bringing it down to her clit. “So glad I agreed to this.”

“Fuck...” 

Harry carefully drags his fingers across her tummy and uses her to pull himself closer. His cock rests on her thigh. She giggles at the feeling on her stomach ad he drops his wandering his hand down to his dick, wrapping his hand around himself. She glances down at him and bats him away, replacing that hand with his. 

Timothée turns her head and kisses her feverishly, not allowing her time to breathe, but after a few thrusts, she’s gasping and pushing her head back into his chest, stars dancing in front of her eyes as she mouths, “Gonna cum.” 

Harry’s fingers slide into her hair, bringing her in for a gentle kiss. They both have a hand on her cheek to push her face toward them after the other person is done kissing her. “Yeah? Gonna cum for us?”

“Fuck!” Timmy swears as she clenches around him at Harry’s choice of words. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

“Yes! Please, please. Oh...that’s s-so...I’m gonna...oh fuck!”

He rubs over her clit almost desperately, and Harry attaches his mouth to her breasts, licking and kissing every inch he can, roughly palming the rest of her torso. Her hand in Harry’s hair tightens to the point where tears form in his own eyes and he hisses, but still runs his tongue on her.

She cums with a desperate whine, pressing herself closer to Timmy as he suddenly stops as he begins to unravel himself, unable to withdraw himself from her tight heat. The tears in her eyes run down her face, her toes curls and her frown relieved. Her moans are beautiful and nonstop as she cums, back arched. Her legs twitch, clenching herself around Timmy once more as if unable to let him go.

When she’s finished, he pulls out of her and removes his hand from her clit. That’s the other difference between Timmy and Harry. Harry wouldn’t have stopped there. 

“Fuck,” Timmy breathes as he lays on his back, spent. “Such a good girl.”

“Isn’t she?” Harry whispers, cupping her jaw, raising his head from her chest. He kisses the corner of her mouth. “So perfect, right?”

“Right. Fuck.” The other boy messily removes the condom from himself and ties it off. His chest is rising and falling over and over, eyes trained on Faye to make sure she’s okay. He even reaches over and wipes her cheek with the back of his hand, to which she responds with a kiss to his knuckles. Harry really appreciates how caring Timmy is post sex. “Gonna go, uh…” Timmy clears his throat and stands up after a few seconds and walks to the bathroom where he throws the rubber out.

Faye hums contently as Harry presses his lips gently all over her skin, especially the areas he had touched without being tender. He kisses along her hip and her sternum, and finally her cheeks, the tickling sensation causing a smile to grow on her face. With weak palms, she shoves him away, but he insists on laying with her. His hand runs through her pink hair and she shuffles over to him without raising her body from the sheets.

“You didn’t cum,” she mumbles, running a shaky hand against the scalp she abused seconds before.

“That’s okay,” he replies, kissing her shoulder now sweetly. Timmy returns and sits on the bed.

“But, I wanna make you cum.” Although she’s tired, she sits up and reaches for his cock. He’s so sensitive, a mere brush on his head make him shudder with need. “Look, I’ll help you.”

“H, I’m gonna head to work now, yeah?” Timothée interrupts. He smiles at Faye. “It was nice finally meeting you.” He leans in and kisses her, something that catches her off guard, but Harry watches her smile into the kiss anyway. “Properly anyway.” Faye replies with something inaudible and then Timmy’s out the door. 

“He’s nice,” she says faintly, and then returns her attention to him. With a gentle sweep, she pulls his condom off and throws it into the garbage. She misses, but neither of them care. Her mouth engulfs him and he nearly hits his head on the headboard as he lets the warm feeling wash over him. 

“Mmm fuck.” He tries to hold himself back from bucking his hips, but he’s unable to as the enthusiasm she has to use her mouth all over him if enough to make him whimper and grab onto her hair. A string of spit is the only link between them when she pulls away to glance at him before opening her mouth wider, attempting to take him deeper. 

Watching her and Timmy has riled him up more than he should admit, and he’s stiff in her mouth, and although his hands are tightening in her hair and making her wince, his eyes are imploring with her even more, wide and staring at her whenever she makes eye contact with him. Even with his dick in her mouth, she’s cocky, arrogance written all over her face. She pulls him out, runs her hand over him a few times, and then bobs her head. 

He releases a low guttural sound as her tongue against him and slowly drags up, savoring the moment with her eyes on his face. He doesn’t know what will make him cum faster: her pretty eyes or her skillful tongue. 

Gently, he drags his hand down her face and cups her cheek. Her lashes flutter at the feeling and he prods at the place his penis bulges from her mouth. 

When he releases, it’s with a low moan, his lips parted. She nearly stops using her tongue on him as she watches his face, and then his neck as his veins protrude, practically begging her to kiss them. She gets too caught up in his appearance, glancing up at him because she suddenly chokes and closes her eyes. They’ve watered up immediately, and Harry holds her hair in a makeshift ponytail quickly. She keeps him in her mouth, resting him on her tongue as she swallows down what she could get and then lets him fall from her. A bit of his release spreads across her lips and cheek with a gentle sweep, he removes it and wipes it on the sheets.

She giggles as he lays down, watching his butterfly tattoo rise and fall rapidly. 

She reaches over and grabs his hand, resting her head on his chest as she pushes his digit into her mouth. It rests between her teeth. “You’re welcome,” she mumbles happily. Still breathless, Harry offers her a choked laugh. Only a few seconds later, she checks him out and wonders, “I’m happy. Are you happy?” in her little voice. 

He holds her tight against his rigid chest, his trembling hands raking through her hair. “So happy,” he tells her blissfully. “You make me so happy.”

***

He sees Faye next week. She practically flies to his room, and he shuts the door behind her before bringing in for a kiss that’s so satisfying, it has her seeing stars. There’s something about kissing a mouth that’s so cold and refreshing as hers is, as the temperature outside has been dipping back to the single digits in Celsius. 

Harry’s lips are intoxicating, and on a regular day she would have melted right into the kiss, but right now she’s too distracted, having wandered too far off to focus on his bruising mouth. He feels it almost immediately, and he slowly pulls away, partially to see if she’ll pull him back in, however she simply lets him slip away. They sit on the edge of the bed.

He passes it as her just being absentminded and kisses her jaw and neck, and she sighs tilting her head back so he can continue the wonderful motion, her hands clawing at his sweater so nicely, he wishes she was doing it at his bare chest. The way he smiles as he runs his fingers fondly over the marks she leaves the day after, pressing on them hard enough to feel a slight pain only reminds him to tell her to be harsher with him next time. Bite him, hurt him, anything. He welcomes it.

The second time she seems unfocused is when he unbuttons her jeans and drags them off her legs, sliding his hands between her thighs to spread them. She does so, but it seems too automatic, and she doesn’t hold her arms up as if to invite him back to her. She lays on her back and watches him through her wispy bangs.

Instead of kissing her, he bites her lower lip, slowly applying more pressure until she’s whining and pulling away just to kiss him.  

He opens his eyes to look at her, pressing his thumbs into her cheeks. “What’s the matter, Cherry?”

She hums. “Nothing is the matter.”

Her chirpy voice is there, but her eyes are still dull. “You seem like you’re somewhere else...”

“I am not, actually.”

“Faye.”

“Harold.”

“Tell me.”

“Nothing to tell.”

His eyes narrow and he sits up. She grouses and grabs his sweater. “Tell me,” he insists. “Or no more kissing.”

“What? You’re being ridiculous. Come back!”

“No.”

“Harry come here and kiss me! There’s nothing wrong with me. Don’t annoy me.”

He removes his hands from her and crawls over to the furthest corner of the bed. “Be that way. I’ll just be over here, not touching you or talking to you. Until you tell me, at least.” He even turns his head away and crosses his arms.

She has a sad look on her face, her bottom lip pressed between her teeth as she gazes at him. He looks genuinely upset. Her fingers absentmindedly run along the edge of the comforter, feeling the warmth of the thickness. She lasts all of thirty seconds before she crawls over to him and whines, “Harry!”

“Are you going to tell me why you’re so far away from me?”

“I’m not--”

“Faye.” His voice is hard and when he looks at her, his eyes aren’t joking. 

She slumps her shoulders and moves closer. “Okay, I’ll tell you.” She reaches for his hand, forcing his pinky up. She wraps her own with it. “Promise you won’t tell anyone.”

He scoffs. “And who would I tell?”

“Timmy.”

“Timmy doesn’t care.”

Her eyes darken, and she looks away as she drops his hand back into his lap. “I wish he didn’t.” She takes a deep breath and continues softly, “I asked Timmy out the morning after the threesome and he said no.”

He’s tempted to say “that’s it?!” or maybe “you really liked him that much?”, but he just nods and says, “Oh. I didn’t know that.” But what is this weight in his chest that drags him down so much? And why is it sending waves of dull pain throughout his body?

“Yeah. He said, um, that he’s not ready for anything right now, so…”

“Ouch.”

Her head hangs low. “Yeah.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. Do you want to talk about it some more? Or do you want to cuddle…?”

She gives him the largest doe eyes he’s ever seen and shakes her head. “No, I just want you to fuck me.”

He leans in a bit. “Cherry, I can be a friend for today. We don’t have to do anything.”

“Harry, I know what I want. Thank you for the kindness, really, but I know what I’d like.”

He purses his lips as he watches her before nodding, “Alright. Come here and give me a kiss.”

The makeout is lazy and soft, and it feels nicer than she’d like to admit because she’s asked for the rough treatment, and instead he’s caressing her skin, trailing down to her thighs, gently wrapping them around his waist. A fire between her legs, and she pulls him closer with a wet gasp. 

He cups her cheeks, gliding his lips against hers. She smells like she usually does -- like vanilla -- and she tastes like the cherry chapstick he’s kissing off of her. He wonders if she enjoys spreading her chapstick onto his mouth. She presses herself to him, her chest against hers, and his fingers dip down to her neck. If he concentrates enough, he can feel her thundering heart beat. 

“Harry...”

“Right here.”

“Don’t stop.”

Why does the pain in her voice make him want to melt? He holds her tighter. “Not gonna stop.”

With his mouth he tells her that she can have him whenever she wants. She can ask people out, but the only one who will be running to her will be him.

She lets out soft noises, mainly gasping as he adds his tongue in, pressing it just gently to her mouth before retreating it to check if she’s okay with it. Faye tilts her head and allows him in, digging her nails into his skin. He imagines how they look right now, desperately clinging to one another, mouths inseparable. She tastes him and smells his cologne. His perfect, intoxicating scent that could have a Pavlovian effect on her. 

His hands don’t travel any lower than her waist, not even bothering to lift her shirt over her head and devour her with his entire body. Instead, he coils himself around her, and even though she insisted she didn’t need it, she realizes he’s comforting her. Panic flashes through her head because he should not have to be doing this for her. His soft hands shouldn’t be rubbing her back as if she’s about to fall apart against him and he’s trying his best to stop it. He shouldn’t be the one she runs to because she doesn’t have any friends because he could be something more productive with his time.

She pulls her mouth away from him to object, but he just shakes his head and brings her back to him. “No,” he mouths against the corner of her mouth. “Come back.” 

There’s no way she can argue with him, so she simply lets her guard down and accepts his kisses, holding onto his sweater. She moves her lips against his, spellbound.

Many minutes pass. Faye’s mouth is suddenly dry, and as she pulls away once more to look at his face, she realizes that her heart hasn’t stopped thundering the entire time she’s been in his arms. He doesn’t speak, bringing her to the mattress with a soft push, and he follows her. He lays on his back.

As she catches her breath, she lays a hand on her tummy and turns her head to glance at him. With a giggle, she pokes Harry’s dimple over and over until his eyes open up. He runs a hand over his mouth and she watches his adam apple bobble as he swallows. Her finger finally presses in a dimple that appears and he turns his head to catch onto her digit with his teeth. He nibbles softly before releasing her. 

The pain in his briefs is nagging, but he ignores it to take extra care of the girl. With a hum, he turns over to her and slides a hand over her tummy, hooking it to her waist and then bringing her closer to his chest. She forces her calf between his thighs and cups his jaw, running her thumb over his clean shaven skin. 

He smiles and says, “Wanna hear about a tattoo I did?”

Her lashes flutter as she shakes her head and her mouth forms a “no”.

“Then what would you like?”

The gaze she sends him almost makes his most emotional he’s ever been. Her eyes are twinkling, the slow growing smile on her face as bright as ever. Her breathing has calmed and she blindly reaches around her to grab onto a pillow and thrust it against her chest. With a soft noise, she turns to her side and places a folded arm under her head. Her soft lips part and after a quick brush of her tongue, she says, “I want to know about you.”

“Me?”

“We’ve been having sex for five months and I don’t even know your favorite color.”

His nose scrunches. “Red,” he decides. “Like cherries.”

Clearly not expecting this shattering answer, her breath hitches in her throat. “Yeah?”

“Yes. I love the color.”

The smile fades and her teeth suddenly worry her lips. He hears her swallow. “You know,” she says faintly, “you’re a really good person.”

“Thank you.”

Her eyes wander down to his lips. “We should hang out outside of this.”

“I’d really like that.”

The answer satiates her for a couple seconds at most, because the worried look stays on her face. The gears in her head are clearly turning as she considers her next words. Perhaps it’s the haziness of her mind that forces her to ask this next question, or it’s the nagging voice that convinces her that Harry has feelings and she needs to acknowledge her own towards him. 

He opens his mouth to ask her why she’s still making that face, but she beats him to it, shaking her head and suddenly blurting, “Did it make you jealous? That I asked your roommate out instead of you?”

Although his insides somersault, he tries to keep his face straight. His eyebrows, however, shoot up. His mouth opens, clearly taken aback from the question. But instead of answering, he thinks about it first. Was he jealous? Should he admit he was jealous? In an attempt to remain casual, he avoids the question, countering it with his own. “Why would it make me jealous?”

“I was talking to my mom the other day and she said that I’m dumb for asking Timmy out instead of you.”

“You talk to your mom about me?”

Her cheeks burn. “That’s not the point.”

“I’ve forgotten what the point is.”

She sits up and pokes his shoulder. “Stop it!”

“Stop what?” he grins.

She grabs both his shoulders and uses him to push herself up, straddling his waist. His hands fly to her waist to stabilize her, sliding his hands under her shirt. Her tummy is soft and it trembles as he prods it with his fingers.

“Stop being like that.”

“Like what, love?”

She stops, exhaling as if she’s tired. “Like that. Like you’re my friend.”

He narrows his eyes and muses, “Aren’t I your friend?”

“I hope so. That means you weren’t jealous?”

He sighs, removing his hands from her stomach and placing them on her thighs instead. “I don’t think it would be my place to be jealous. You’re not exactly anyone to call my own.”

She bites the inside of her cheek and thinks this over. Her fingers walk up his sweater and clutches his collar. “Yeah,” she says softly. “I guess I’m not.” She glances away from him and rolls off, laying on her back beside him. “Harry, can I tell you something? Because we’re friends.”

“Go for it.”

She stares at the ceiling. “Sometimes I feel really alone. And I think I asked Timmy out just because I’ve been single for so long, and I thought it was the right thing.” A breathless laughs falls from her lips. “And the best part is that as soon as it came out, I regretted it because I knew it wasn’t what I wanted.”

He leans in and brushes the back of the hand against her cheek. “Tell me Faye, then. What exactly do you want?”

Her mouth opens to accept his thumb and he smiles at the sensation. When she expels him from her mouth, she says quietly, “I want something meaningful. I want a genuine person in my life who loves me for me. And a friend.”

“Well, you’ve got a friend in me.” She turns her head back towards him and sighs contently, his hand still brushing over her cheek.

Her eyes light up a bit. The smile on her face returns, and it seems like the conversation is over, until she says, “So, I have a show next week. Would you want to come? It’s a musical and I’m the lead.”

“What day?”

“Saturday at 5pm. There will be drinks and refreshments and you can come over to my place so we can try out a new flavored lube I got.”

He groans and buries his face into the mattress. “Okay. How much is a ticket?”

“$45, but if you promise to fuck me really good afterwards, I can pull some strings for you.”

His body rumbles with laughter. “Thank you. I’ll be there with my dick.”

She leans in and kisses him, hands dragging up his chest. “Okay. I’m off now.”

A pout is on his face before she even gets up. “You don’t want to stay the night?”

Faye stands up and glances around for her jeans. “I can’t. I have rehearsals early tomorrow.”

“Oh.” Harry watches her place her jeans back on and walk over to the mirror to fix her hair. She reaches into her back pocket and swipes her Cherry chapstick onto her mouth and rubs her lips together. With a wave, she says, “Bye! I’ll see you!” and then walks out.

***

He runs his hand over the side she was laying on, a deep need in his chest. He comes to the conclusion when it’s later at night and he’s scrolling through her instagram. He’s checking out every guy that’s commented on her pictures, and soon he realizes it’s out of pure jealousy. It’s this anger at himself for not admitting that he was horribly jealous when she told him she’d asked Timmy out. His roommate out of all people! He was the one who took care of her. 

It’s 2am. He’s just set his alarm for work tomorrow and placed his phone on the side table next to his glass of water. As he tosses his comforter over his body and nestles into bed, he looks at the other side of the bed, envisioning the curve of her waist as she slumbers next to him. When he closes his eyes, he feels her presence even more.

It’s 2am, not an ounce of sleep in his body, and that’s when he realizes he’s in love with Faye.

To Be Continued...

read part two here!

#harry styles au #harry styles angst #harry styles smut #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles #timothée chalamet #timothee chalamet #harry styles timothee chalamet #timothee chalamet fic #harry styles x ofc #harry styles x oc #harry styles writing #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles fan fic #harry styles tattooist #tattooist au

[eventhedarkestlightshines]

Caught at Coachella

Masterlist

Same AU - Caught on Instagram - Caught on Instagram part 2 - It Doesn't Matter What they Think

Pairing: Timothée Chalamet x Fem!Reader

Summary: Timothée and Y/N at Coachella as seen by Twitter

Notes: This is just an excuse for me to freak out over Utada Hikaru, Jackson Wang’s, CL’s and 2NE1’s performance at Coachella. No regrets. I decided to change things up and use twitter as it was more of a react in real time platform than instagram. I know I didn’t do this justice but I tried my best with the formatting and tweets. I also may be fudging the times that these performances were taking place, but I think Billie Eilish had a performance shortly after 2NE1? 

Not beta’d!

---

User1 @user1 handle 

Guys! Timothée Chalamet and Y/N are at coachella!!!

[Photo]: Tim talking to a group of people with an arm casually slung over Y/N’s shoulder while she was facing slightly to the side talking to another group

User2 @user2 handle

Y/N’s so sweet, before we could ask anyone, she offered to take our photos with timmy and we had to ask her for a photo as well

---

User1 @user1 handle

So Timmy and Y/N were just chillin, talking to a group of ppl. Normal right. I look away for one second and then from the corner of my eye, I see her mad dashing away with Timmy chasing after her… Uhh… what happened?

User2 @user2 handle

She must've found out about something cuz she looked Timmy in the eye, before dramatically clutching her chest and goes, “My dear sweet tea, it breaks my heart to say this but we must part now. I’ve been seduced and must leave you. Please forgive me.” I kid you not i thought… (1/2)

User2 @user2 handle

…she was going to cry. She had tears in her eyes and everything, but then she giggled out, “see you in an hour” then gave him a peck before running off (2/2)

User3 @user3 handle

😂 girl should be an actor

User4 @user4 handle

Timmy’s prob giving her some tips

User5 @user5 handle

Guess he didn’t want to wait that hr 🤣

User6 @user6 handle

Where was she going??

User7 @user7 handle

To one of the stages, i think 88ring?

---

User1 @user1 handle

Y/N getting emotional and teary eyed at Utada’s performance

User2 @user2 handle

Who?

User3 @user3 handle

OMG OMG OMG, do u not know who that is

User4 @user4 handle

Utada Hikaru wrote and sang for kingdom hearts!

---

User1 @user1 handle

We know Y/N is a kpop stan but she also knows Utada Hikaru! 

---

User1 @user1 handle

LOL, someone’s a lil jealous

[Video]: Timmy pouting with his arms crossed. He said something to Y/N who looks distracted as she replies back to him. Video ends with Y/N, still distracted, gave him a quick peck on his cheek.

User2 @user2 handle

Wat r they saying?

User3 @user3 handle

T: u don’t even like this type of music

Y/N: *distracted* he’s part of GOT7, so ofc i know him… besides, I only know a few of his solo songs

T: for someone who only knows a few, u seem to be into it

Y/N hums: ur the one who followed me here, i told you to meet up in like an hour

---

User1 @user1 handle

OMG OMG OMG DID YOU SEE THAT?? JACKSON TOOK HIS SHIRT OFF 😍

User2 @user2 handle

Timmy’s jaw drop and tried to cover Y/N’s eyes, she laughed and said, “u can’t be the only one with their abs out”

---

User1 @user1 handle

[Video]: Camera focused on Y/N. CL just ended her Hello Btches performance. As soon as the next song started, the crowd went wild and Y/N’s eyes goes wide and her jaw dropped. Y/N: oh my god, oh my god.

User2 @user2 handle

Looks like we’re not the only one excited for this performance

User3 @user3 handle

Def a kpop stan 

User4 @user4 handle

First a MAMA doc feature and now Coachella, r they coming back?? Please come baaaaack, u know u want tooooo

---

User1 @user1 handle

I stand corrected, i thought Y/N couldn’t get any more amped up until this solo artist brought in some people for a song

User2 @user2 handle

It’s not just any people! It’s 2ne1!!! They disbanded in 2016, anyone would freak out when they’re back performing!

User3 @user3 handle

THIS IS THE B-E-S-T!

---

User1 @user1 handle

ARE YOU READY FOR THE B-E-S-T! Clearly, Y/N was not ready, she went all surprised pikachu

User2 @user2 handle

Tbh no one was ready, whoever said that they were are lying

---

User1 @user1 handle

Ok, so we know coachella isn’t Y/N’s thing but she literally lit up once utada came on stage and her energy kept going for all the performances after, and when u thought she hit her final form, 2NE1 came out 

User2 @user2 handle

Whyd she even go if she wasn’t interested

User3 @user3 handle

@user2handle Cuz we love a supportive gf

User4 @user4 handle

Imagine if Big Bang ended up performing as well, she’d probably explode

User5 @user5 handle

Ok, we now know, she’s been kpop stan since 2nd gen

User6 @user6 handle

DID YOU SEE BIGBANG’S NEW SONG??

---

User1 @user1 handle

From Utada Hikaru to Jackson Wang to CL to 2NE1, Y/N’s knows them all. She’s been lip syncing and dancing to their performances. We love a supportive bf Tim. 

User2 @user2 handle

He barely tolerated Jackson’s performance tho 😂

User3 @user3 handle

Tim got competition!

User4 @user4 handle

Watch out Timmy!

---

User1 @user1 handle

LOLOL Y/N had to cheer Timmy up

[Video]: Timmy pouting and turning away from Y/N as she tries to get him to look at her. He stops and faces each other. Timmy held onto her wrists as she rests her hands on his cheeks. They stared at each other, sharing a soft look before Y/N started pulling his cheeks. This goes on for a while before they started laughing. 

User2 @user2 handle

Is he still sulking about jackson’s performance? 😂

User3 @user3 handle

I mean… it’s jackson 😋 i’d want him to step on me

---

User1 @user1 handle

Timmy and Y/N at Billie Eilish’s performance 

[Video]: Timmy rocking to the performance while Y/N was next to him moving her head to the beat. 

User2 @user2 handle

looks like she's into Billie Eilish as well? 

---

User1 @user1 handle

GUYS! I just caught Timmy and Y/N making out but by the time i took out my phone, they broke apart… I think they saw me… cuz they ran off

User2 @user2 handle

OMG REALLY?

User3 @user3 handle

Dw guys, i gotchu, it's a bit blurry but i got’em!

[Photo]: Timmy and Y/N locking lips, their bodies glued to each other. Y/N’s arms were wrapped around Timmy’s neck while his arms were around her waist.

User4 @user4 handle

>//////<

User5 @user5 handle

Looks like it was getting hot and heavy before they were interrupted

#timothee chalamet x reader #timothee x reader #timothée chamalet #timothée chalamet x reader #tiomthée fanfic #timothee chalamet imagine #timothee chalamet #timothée chalamet imagine #timothée x reader #timothee chalamet fanfic #timothee fanfic #timothée chalamet fanfic #timothée fanfiction #timothee chalamet fanfiction

[thetorturedmiladep]

Blaze In the Dark

Summary: Ivy is a major Spider-man fan. How would she react if she finally meets him? Word count: 1.3k Pairing: tasm!peter parker x OFC Genre: fluff and still trying to figure out the rest Author’s note: Hello! Lately I've been reading too many Spiderman fanfics and I wanted to write one. It's nothing special, more of the same thing. Also, I might or might not turn this into a series, who knows? Bare with me lol hope you enjoy it!

˗ˏˋ ´ˎ˗

It was an early, and surprisingly shiny, Thursday morning in New York. A cold gust of wind untangled Ivy’s scarf as she crossed the street, running fast through the traffic lights, trying to get her shift at the café. Her nose was as red as her hair at this point, so she hurried up and, after 5 minutes, she got to her destination.

This morning was unusually quiet. There were fewer customers than normal and they were definitely less impatient or rude than on any other regular day. The redheaded moved swiftly and gracefully through the tables, cleaning them and humming to a song she heard earlier in the new Spotify playlist her coworker played in the café. By 1 p.m., Ivy was again rushing to get to her classes. Luckily, this was her last semester until graduation. On the bright side, she only had to take two classes; on the darker side, she had to do so much extra work to prepare for the final exams which were round the corner any time soon.

“Hey, you made it!” Rory, one of her best friends and also roommates, exclaimed when she saw her approaching the table. “I’m glad you’re here. It’s too cold and too dark outside already”

“Don’t even mention it, I have to go all the way to Long Island to have dinner with my brother and his fiancée in 40 minutes,” Juniper announced with a pout. Ivy put her hand on her arm understandingly. “Let’s order some drinks before I go!”

The three friends talked, laughed, and drank until June stood up and said her goodbyes. June and Ivy have been friends since they can remember. They grew together and, at this point in life, they were basically sisters from another mister. Aurora was added to the duo when they shared a class in the second year of college; they found out the three shared the same interests, such as watching Outlander, fangirling over Timothée Chalamet, and cringing over Twilight while eating popcorn and learning TikTok dances to Bella’s Lullaby, beyond so much more. So their friendship grew with time and they decided to move together, to experience living in the best city in the world with their best friends, and because the rent would be so much easier to be paid if split by three.

“Oh, I almost forgot it’s Luna’s birthday party!” Luna was Rory’s childhood friend. She didn’t really like Ivy and June since she thought they threatened her to steal her best friend; that was absolutely not the case. “Hope you don’t mind going back to the apartment on your own, do you?” Ivy shook her head and finished her drink, taking out a couple of dollars and setting them on the table. “I’m gonna spend the night there too”

“It’s fine, Rory, chill” The redhead giggled at her bestie’s sudden anxiety. “I’ll take the sub and I’ll text you when I get home” Rory let out a sigh and quickly hugged her friend goodbye.

Ivy knew exactly why her friend was so anxious about her walking on her own, even though it wasn’t that late and there were still people on the street. In the last few weeks, crime has been rising in New York. Luckily, and what let Ivy sleep at night, there was a friendly neighbourhood vigilante who took care of the criminals and watched over the civilians. Yes, it was Spider-man; Ivy’s biggest crush and New York’s hero. She hadn’t had the chance to meet him, yet, but she’s read every article and Reddit post about the masked hero, and she swears she feels him watching over her when she’s walking alone at night. The redhead likes to think of him as a guardian angel; June thinks that’s bullshit and that her friend should stop daydreaming and be more careful when she’s on her own. Even though Rory didn't like to interfere in those two bickerings, if asked, she would be on Juniper’s side.

That night, for the very first time, Ivy felt fear. She couldn’t put a finger on the reason, but she knew she wasn’t safe, or at least, she didn’t feel like it. So she started walking faster, holding onto her tote bag as her life depended on it and thinking how relieved she would feel once she was home with Lilith, the black cat she rescued, sleeping on her lap. Unfortunately, a body thrown in front of her brought her back to reality. She stopped in her tracks and covered her mouth, watching as the figure stood up and grabbed her by the arm, hiding her in the nearest alley.

“You stay here and be silent, don’t come out until I tell you” The redhead nodded frantically while her mind tried to process what the hell was going on. She heard a ‘thwip’ and that’s when she realized that that was no other than Spider-man.

Ivy watched from behind a trash can her favourite hero fighting crime, how he shot webs at the bad guy but, most importantly, how the suit embraced his features. Her logical side slapped her mentally for thinking such things when his, and hers, life was at risk. The masked hero almost had him until Ivy’s phone went off; it was an incoming call from Rory. She cursed under her breath, trying to reach her phone and silence it, but it was too late since the bad guy already heard her and was coming to get her.

To say he was ugly was an understatement. He smiled through his rotten teeth, his hair pulled out of his face with a tint of green on it, and something remarkable that Ivy was missing was his flying device, a thing she has never seen before. Spider-man noticed where the Green Goblin’s attention went to, and he hurried to web his glider, forcing it to malfunction and move away from the girl.

“Are you okay?” He inquired swiftly, “I told you to keep quiet!” He whined, grabbing her shoulders in desperation, she widened her eyes and yelled a ‘look out’ while grabbing Spider-man’s neck to duck the incoming Green Goblin. “Stay hidden, please,” he almost begged. She nodded, but after he left, Ivy searched for something to defend herself with.

Once again, the Goblin was trying to get to the redhead, but Spider-man wouldn’t let him slip from his fingers, or better said, webs, again. Unfortunately, his nemesis was faster than him and got to the alley where Ivy was. Searching for the girl, he didn’t expect what happened next. Ivy concentrated all the strength she had on her body, thanking Rory for insisting on accompanying her to the gym, and beat the ugliness out of the Green Goblin’s body with a pipe she found laying there. Spider-man landed next to her and let out a relieved sigh.

“Wow, didn’t expect that.” He confessed, his body was now relaxed but the redhead could sense how exhausted he was. “Thank you, …”

“Ivy” the girl filled the blank in the hero’s appreciation. “And thank you, you’re the one risking his life to keep us safe,” she smiled softly, almost blushing when he turned his head to look at her.

But their moment, or most likely Ivy’s, was interrupted by the bad guy grunts. The hero’s reflexes acted quickly to protect the girl by stepping in front of her. Her hand rested on his arm, and she couldn’t help but fantasize about how strong he was. ‘Focus, Ivy, this is a life or death thing!’. The Goblin looked at the vigilante, smiled cynically, and got into his glider,

“I’m not done with you, dear friend,” he informed, moving away from them and navigating through the New York sky.

“I have to go. Can you get home safely?” He hurried, waiting for her response to disappear from the scene. She nodded, and he shot a web, pulling himself into the air.

“See you around, Spider-man!” she yelled, not waiting for a reply. Ivy’s phone rang again. This time, she answered. It was June, mumbling incoherent things when she heard Ivy’s voice. “I know, calm down. You won’t believe what just happened to me.”

#tasm fanfiction #tasm peter parker #tasm!peter fanfiction #tasm!peter imagine #tasm!peter x you #tasm!peter x reader #peter parker x original character

[chris-evanslover]

✨Masterlist✨

Join my Taglist!!

*-indicates smut

OFC=Original Fictional Character

Chris Evans

Captain Patriotic Part 2 OFC Samara meets Chris at a patriots game (Fluff)

Premiere Blues Actress! reader meets Chris at a marvel premiere (Fluff)

Jump Your Bones* You and Chris do the dirty for the first time (Smut)

Last Swim Before The Pool Hibernates* Chris’ Instagram story stirs up some sexual tension (Smut)

Scarlett Special Scarlett introduced you and Chris way back when, years later you’re married and telling the story on a virtual interview (Fluff)

Tom Holland

All Around the World You and Tom get ready for an early flight on a press tour (Fluff)

All is Fair in Love and War Best Friends Tom and OFC Lia get into an argument which leads Tom’s jealousy to snap and confesses his feelings (Angst + Fluff)

Warming* C*ckwarming with Tom (Smut)

Nails and New Meetings Running into Tom’s mom at the nail salon, having not met her yet you don’t realize who you’re talking to (Fluff)

Homesick Tom looks upset/off in new fan pictures, you give him a call to cheer him up (Fluff)

Are We Friends? Tom meets Y/N at Zendayas photo shoot (going to be multipart) (Fluff)

Timothée Chalamet

SNL Part 1; SNLWriter!reader x Timmy boy (Fluff) Part 2

Joe Burrow

1. Easy there, Tiger

#chris evans #chris evans x reader #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans one shot #chris evans imagine #chris evans masterlist #tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland smut #tom holland imagine #tom holland one shot #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland masterlist #chris evans smut #timothee chamalet #timothee chalamet imagine #timothée hal chalamet

[princeofsassgard]

princeofsassgard’s new masterlist

steve rogers x reader x bucky barnes

i’ll love your light series masterlist *hiatus* gods & monsters series masterlist

bucky barnes x ofc/reader

soldat? it’s time series masterlist the life of a wallflower camguy!bucky x reader

steve rogers x reader

world on fire history repeats untitled

steve rogers x reader x peter quill

be together

peter parker x reader

baby, just tell me series masterlist lead me out of the dark copycat honey falling apart the guardians sister girl in the chair and they were roommates

pietro maximoff x reader

scared to be lonely series masterlist

diego luna x reader

compass series masterlist

josh dun x reader

2,845 miles southwest series masterlist untitled

dylan o’brien

femme fatale series masterlist

alden ehrenreich x reader

broken record series masterlist

newt scamander x reader

can’t hide

draco malfoy x reader

black magic

kylo ren x reader

chained

barry allen x reader

we rise

general hux x reader

make me fade

cassian andor x reader

my type

poe dameron x reader x kylo ren

put you in my past

general hux x reader x kylo ren

burning secret

poe dameron x reader

give you my love

matt murdock x reader

dead of winter

harrison osterfield x reader

why are you my galaxy?

tom holland x reader x harrison osterfield

body electric

sebastian stan x reader

simulations good nights professor!seb x reader

dylan o’brien x reader

femme fatale

loki laufeyson x reader

dark angels

jughead jones x reader

slow down love

untitled

archie andrews x reader

lose myself

joe keery x reader

hypnotic

cole sprouse x reader

in the name of love

steve harrington x reader

untitled

chris evans x reader

city of the rose

tom hiddleston x reader x chris evans

solo

tom holland x reader x asa butterfield

heaven and hell

steve harrington x reader x billyhargrove

wild thoughts

edmund pevenise x reader

untitled

timothée chalamet x reader

need you

timothee chalamet x reader x tom holland

young

spencer reid x reader

pretty girl

matthew grey gubler x reader

fellow feeling

young!solo x reader

half love

killian jones x reader

forgot how to dream

[imnotoverlyobsessive]

Moodboard by @softhecreator

Mr. Chalamet

chapter seven: i’m in love with you, stupid

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

All my work is 18+.

Happens so fast, I can’t hold back; I’m addicted, we both know that. It feels like it’s dangerous and I wanna chase it, ‘cause just one look at you, and I’m wasted.- Demi Lavato, Wasted

“No.”

“Please, baby.”

“Nuh uh.”

“Pretty pretty please?”

“No, Tim.”

“But you’ll look so hot as her, though!” her boyfriend insisted, pointing frantically at a picture on his phone of a redheaded woman in a revealing green outfit with leaf detailing. “And you can make it yourself, you’re so good at that!”

She fixed him with a look from her place on the loveseat in their bedroom in the house he'd given her. “Flattery will not convince me to dress up as a comic book character named after a plant that gives you a rash, no matter how into her weird leaf costume you apparently are.”

“I grew up watching Poison Ivy be all sexy, though!” he practically whined. He paused, and then immediately switched to bribery. “I’ll get you anything you want.”

“You already do that,” she pointed out.

“A wardrobe custom made by your favorite designers.”

“You promised me that already.”

“Fuck,” he muttered, thinking. “I’ll pay your tuition.”

She raised her eyebrows. “You mean the thing my mom takes pride in paying for?”

Tim frowned. “Okay, uh…” Then, an idea seemed to occur to him. “Oh! Have you ever heard of Turks and Caicos?”

She pursed her lips. “No.”

“They’re these tropical islands, a few hundred miles off the coast of Florida.”

“So… the Bahamas?” she drawled, unimpressed.

He shook his head. “No, it’s more… exclusive than that. We’ll have more privacy.”

She hummed, considering this.

At her lack of refusal, he snaked his arms around her waist, pulling her in close. “Okay, look, just— just picture it, okay? Your birthday, an all-inclusive resort villa, just the two of us…” He paused, brushing his lips over her jaw. “Doing whatever we want, no one to bother us or stop or stop us from waking up in each other’s arms, no one to hide from.” He kissed her neck. “Just you and me, holding hands wherever we want, kissing wherever we want, fucking wherever we want.”

She sighed contentedly, leaning into him.

“Wouldn’t that be nice, sweetheart?” Another kiss to her neck. “Our own private beach all to ourselves.”

“We’d have to go shopping separately,” she pouted.

“No,” he assured her. “I’ll have the store cleared out, you can get whatever you want, and I’ll get to fuck you in the dressing room.”

“Tim!” she giggled, swatting his arm playfully.

“Yes, love of my life?” he asked, smirking against her neck.

She sighed. “Okay, okay, fine. I’ll dress up as your dumb character for Halloween.”

“Knew I could convince you.”

“Don’t be smug about it.”

“Will you make the costume yourself?” he asked excitedly.

“Yes, I’ll make it myself,” she said, rolling her eyes. I’ve been making my own costumes since I was ten. Obviously I will.”

“Okay, cool. Make the panties part easy for me to—“

“Tim!”

The Halloween party Tim was hosting was for him and his friends, but he’d told Elle she could invite a few of her friends, too. The fact that Lea could be there without raising eyebrows was an added bonus, he had said. 

Lea, Sam, and Lina showed up to the Chalamet estate after most of the guests had already arrived. Lea was in her Poison Ivy costume, which was essentially a bra and skirt covered in fake ivy and vines. For all intents and purposes, it wasn’t as revealing as it could’ve been; only a few inches of her midriff was exposed. She was pleased with how it had turned out.

Pushing down the urge to knock, she followed the other two girls inside, her heels click-clacking on the marble floors as they moved towards the spiral staircase that led to the laughter and thumping music downstairs. 

They descended the steps and made their way into the huge room with a bar and a wide open space. There was a pool table past a sitting room, too, along with a card table. Not that Lea could see any of that with how many people there were. 

“Lea!” came Elle’s squeal of delight, the taller girl bounding towards her and hugging her with excitement. “You look fantastic!”

“You, too!” Lea nearly shouted over the music. And she meant it; she didn’t know what Elle was dressed as, but she looked awesome.

Sam and Lina waved before heading to the bar to order a drink. Sam loved these parties because hired bartenders didn’t usually charge.

“Are you Poison Ivy?” Elle asked loudly to be heard over the music.

Lea nodded, smiling and hoping her friend wouldn’t ask for details of what the character was like.

“That’s, like, my dad’s favorite character!”

Lea’s eyes widened. It hadn’t occurred to her that Elle might connect the dots on this.

“He has got to see your costume!” Elle declared. “He'll think it’s so cool!”

Tim had made it very clear that his desire to see her dressed as Poison Ivy was deeply sexual. She wasn’t sure how he’d react if Elle—his daughter—was present when he saw her in her costume for the first time.

But Elle was already tugging Lea by the hand through the throngs of people and towards the pool table. He was on the far end, a group of his friends—and his wife, actually; Lea had known Lourdes would be there and Tim had assured her that they were nothing more than friends, they just had to act otherwise around Elle—surrounding him, turned their direction as he lined up a shot.

The exact moment he took it, however, Elle shouted out, “Dad!”

He glanced up, and Lea could see the exact moment he registered her presence, because he froze, his mouth falling open. He rested the cue against the pool table and stumbled towards them, looking somewhat dazed as his eyes raked over her.

“Right?” Elle said excitedly, misinterpreting her father’s reaction entirely. “I thought it’d be fun to show you. It’s a funny coincidence, right?”

“Y— yeah,” Tim stuttered out, his voice hoarse.

Lea smiled at him shyly, taking in his Beetlejuice costume.

“I gotta…” He cleared his throat. “Excuse me, I gotta go… do a thing.”

They watched him as he walked away, though he kept glancing back over his shoulder at Lea. Lourdes looked on with pursed lips and crossed arms. 

“Huh,” Elle said, completely oblivious. “Maybe he’s not as nerdy about her as he used to be.” She shrugged. “Oh well. I’m gonna go get a drink. You want anything?”

“Oh, yeah,” Lea said distractedly. “I’ll come with you.”

They waded through the crowd, and Lea rested her forearms on the bartop when they got there.

“What can I get’cha?” the bartender asked pleasantly.

“Scotch on the rocks,” Elle said cheerfully.

The bartender frowned. “I’ve been specifically instructed not to serve you alcohol, Miss Chalamet.”

Lea snorted. “Two Shirley Temples, please.”

Elle glared at her as the bartender nodded and began to fix their drinks. “That is not what I wanted.”

Lea shrugged. “You can’t drink. You like them. Might as well have something you like.”

Elle stuck her tongue out, and Lea laughed, momentarily distracted from the guilt of fucking her friend’s dad.

The bartender slid their drinks towards them, and Lea smiled, thanking him politely.

Elle took a sip of hers and declared, “I’m gonna go, like, dance or something. You coming?”

Lea felt her phone buzz in the hidden pocket of her skirt. Curious about who it was from, she shook her head. “I’m good, thanks!”

“Kay, see ya!”

Lea waved her friend off with a smile before pulling out her phone. Her heart fluttered when she saw the text was from Tim.

Jfc Lea

Warn a guy next time

She giggled, typing out a response.

You literally told me to wear this

My bad, I underestimated how sexy you are. My apologies, will not happen again

😂😂😂

You’re ridiculous

No I just have an insanely attractive girlfriend, that is absolutely not my fault.

Pfft okay you weirdo

“Hey,” a male voice cut into her giddiness.

Lea glanced up at the owner of the voice. “Uh. Hi.”

The man was tall, thin the way Tim was, and he had nice enough hair and his features were arranged pleasantly enough. But he wasn’t Tim, so, like, whatever.

“Poison Ivy, huh?”

Lea nodded, smiling politely. Other than Tim, she didn’t exactly have a lot of experience with men.

“Cool,” the man said, stepping a bit closer to her. “I’m Anthony. What’s your name?”

“Uh… Lea,” she said slowly, wondering why this random dude—Anthony—was talking to her.

“So, Lea,” Anthony drawled, leaning on the bar close enough to her to where their arms brushed against each other. “What’cha drinkin’?”

“A Shirley Temple,” Lea told him. 

He chuckled. “How ‘bout a real drink?”

She blinked at him. “What, like alcohol?”

“Naturally,” he grinned. 

“Oh, uh…” She swallowed, anxious without really knowing why. “I can’t, but thank you.”

He frowned. “What do you mean you can’t?”

“I’m underage,” she said apologetically, “but I appreciate the offer.”

His eyes widened. “How old are you?”

“Twenty.”

Anthony looked almost relieved at that, and Lea couldn’t figure out why for the life of her. “Gotcha. I’m thirty-four, by the way.”

She stared at him for a moment, wondering why in the hell he felt the need to tell her that.”

“So, what do you do for a living?”

“Oh, uh…” Lea took a sip of her drink. “I’m a student.”

“Cool,” Anthony said pleasantly. “What’re you studying?”

“Costume design.”

“Oh, nice! I’m here with my friend Zendaya, actually. You know her?”

Lea’s eyes widened again. “Yeah, we’ve met. She’s cool.”

He nodded, moving even closer to her, to the point where it was almost weird. “Yeah, we’re friends. She’s basically my sister.”

Lea was about to say that that was cool or interesting, or something equally noncommittal, before the voice of her boyfriend cut in, “Lea, hey! Can you help me with something?”

She turned to face him and said, “What do you need help with?”

“Oh, uh…” He blinked rapidly. “Something in the kitchen.”

Lea frowned. “Didn’t you hire someone for that?”

“Right, yeah,” he seemed to recall. Anthony was looking between them, appearing confused, but he didn’t say anything when Tim asked, “I do need help with the pool cues, though.”

Lea raised her eyebrows, realizing he was most definitely trying to pull her away for sex. Not wanting to be rude to a relative stranger, however, she said, “I think the people playing with them might have some issues with that.”

He changed tactics. “Can you help me look for Elle?”

“Yeah,” she said easily, then gestured to the crowd of partygoers. “She’s right there.”

“Oh… uh… thanks,” he mumbled before glancing at Anthony, clearly annoyed (he hid it well, but she knew his moods well by that point), and went off to… talk to Zendaya? He looked pretty irritated, too. What was he angry-whispering at her about?

“So,” Anthony cut into her thoughts, “you know our host?”

“Uh…” Lea blinked, coming back to herself. “Yeah, actually. I’m friends with his daughter, Elle.”

“Isn’t she a high schooler?”

Lea nodded. “She’s taking early college courses at my school, though.”

“Ah,” Anthony nodded. “I see. Well then, would you like to go to din—“

“Anthony,” Zendaya interjected. “Quit bothering Elle’s friends.”

“I’m not bothering her,” Anthony complained. “We were just having a conversation!”

Lea wanted to say that he very much was bothering her, but she’d been raised not to be rude, so she kept silent.

“Sorry, hon,” Zendaya told Lea with a good-natured smile. “I’ll take this idiot off your hands.”

Lea nodded, returning Zendaya’s smile.

Tim was glowering off to the side, his arms crossed. Once Zendaya and Anthony were out of sight, he grabbed Lea by the hand and started dragging her around the bar and towards the theater.

“T— Tim?” Lea sputtered. “What’s with you?”

“C’mon,” he said sharply, squeezing her hand tighter.

“O… kay?”

As soon as they were inside the theater, he let the doors slam shut behind them and flicked the lock.

Within seconds, she was pressed against the doors as he kissed her desperately.

“Tim, what the hell—“ she muttered, gasping softly when he started kissing her neck and reaching down to squeeze her ass, the fake leaves crinkling under his touch.

“You’re mine,” he snapped, his other hand snaking up into her hair. “Mine. Understand?”

“Yeah,” she frowned, “of course I’m yours. What’s wrong?”

He signed, resting his forehead on her shoulder (which was actually kind of a funny sight because of how far he had to lean down to manage it, even when she was in heels). “I hated seeing that asshole hit on you. I hated not being able to fucking say anything about it. I hated not being able to tell him off for hitting on my girlfriend.”

Lea blinked in surprise. “He was… he was hitting on me?”

Tim pulled back, raising his eyebrows at her in disbelief. “You can’t tell me you didn’t notice.”

“Uh…” She was trying to process this news. Someone had been hitting on her? Really? Weird. “I thought he was just being overly friendly.”

“Is that why you didn’t take a single one of the outs I gave you?” he remarked sourly.

Lea stared at him. “What, your excuses to drag me off into a closet somewhere? Yeah, I wasn’t gonna be rude just so you could have your way with me.”

He examined her face, his gaze intense and searching. “So you didn’t want to talk to him?”

“Why would I wanna talk to some random guy I don’t know?” she asked, exasperated.

“Hmm,” Tim hummed. “Did you think he was hot?”

She rolled her eyes. “He was okay.” He frowned, and Lea cupped his cheek. “But I hardly noticed. He wasn’t you, so I didn’t care. If you hadn’t told me he’d been hitting on me, I wouldn’t have noticed that, either.”

Tim smiled slightly, a small quirk of his lips. “Your obliviousness is adorable.”

She bristled. “I’m not oblivious.”

He kissed her nose. “Of course you are, angel. It’s cute.” He sighed. “However, I’m not joking when I say it really fucking sucked to see you getting hit on and not be able to tell the guy to fuck off since you were too polite to.”

“Is that what you were yelling at Zendaya about?”

“I wasn’t yelling at her,” he insisted defensively. “I just talked to her.”

“Uh huh,” Lea said skeptically. “And what did you say to her?”

He looked down, flushing. “I told her that if she didn’t tell her friend to get away from my girl, I’d end up making a scene.”

She rolled her eyes. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Well,” he began slowly, “I was worried, alright? What if you liked him better than me? You clearly don’t mind older guys, so—“

“That’s even more ridiculous,” she cut him off. “I don’t mind that you’re older. I literally would not be dating anyone at all if it weren’t for you. Why in the hell would you think I’d be interested in some random dude?”

He shrugged and admitted, “I dunno. I just don’t want you to find someone you like more than me.”

“I’m in love with you, stupid,” she reminded him. “I don’t want anybody else.”

“Then why,” he began slowly, mouthing at her neck, “would you let another man hit on you? Hm?”

Lea inhaled sharply. “I… I didn’t mean to.”

“That’s no excuse,” he scolded, trailing a hand down her back to squeeze her ass roughly. “Maybe I should punish you.” She whimpered, and he smirked in response. She knew he did because she felt it against her skin. “Hm? You think I should? You think you deserve it?”

“No,” she argued playfully.

He grabbed her jaw firmly. “That was a rhetorical question, sweetheart. You don’t get to decide that. I do.” With that, he kissed her slowly, passionately, his body pressing hers against the doors. “And I know exactly how I’m gonna do it.”

“How?” she breathed, swiping her tongue over her bottom lip.

“I’ll fuck you,” he decided, “but I won’t satisfy you until after you’ve satisfied me. And then, if you’ve been good while I fill you up, I’ll let you cum.”

She was practically salivating when he kissed her this time, but then he pulled away, dragging her towards the theater seats and facing her towards them so she couldn’t see him.

“Take your panties off,” he snapped, and when she heard him undoing his pants, her entire body tingled with excitement. She obeyed as quickly as she could, hiking the ivy skirt up around her waist and pulling her panties down.

“Green, huh?”

“I— I thought it’d be fun if they matched the costume,” she stuttered, anxious excitement swirling in her stomach.

“Yeah, I’ll bet you did,” he muttered, stepping closer and shoving her over one of the seats. She braced her hands on the armrests so she wouldn’t fall forward, jolting when he gave her sharp smack on the ass. Then, without warning, he slammed into her.

“God, Tim,” she gasped, her eyes fluttering.

“Yeah?” he panted, already fucking into her with such force that she lost her footing, her heels losing traction on the carpeted floors of the theater and sliding out from under her. She had enough balance on the chair to not fall, though, so she let it happen, enjoying the sharp feeling of his hipbones digging into her ass with every thrust. “This what you wanted, you dirty little thing?”

“Mhm,” she whined. “Feels good—“

“Slutty little outfit,” he muttered, smacking her ass again.

Indignant despite the pleasure he was giving her, she said, “You begged me to wear this—“

He grabbed a fist full of her hair and yanked her head back. “Don’t talk back to me, Lea, or I might decide to stop.”

“S— sorry,” she stuttered, desperately wanting him to do anything but stop.

“That’s better,” he murmured, releasing her hair and thrusting into her again, the movement slow, almost leisurely. “You’re right, I did want you to wear this,” he sighed, “but what I didn’t expect was for you to look so goddamn slutty in it.”

“I like the way you look at me when I wear things like this,” she admitted breathlessly. “I like knowing you want me.”

“Oh, is that right?” Tim chuckled lowly. “You like driving me crazy, making me want you so bad I feel like I’m gonna explode? Is that it?”

She nodded, whimpering needily as he fucked her.

“Bad little slut,” he scolded, squeezing her hips, his fingers digging into her skin. “I’m so good to you and you tease me.” He tsked. “What do you have to say for yourself, Lea?”

“Don’t stop,” she moaned.

He smacked her ass sharply. “Bad girl. Apologize.”

“Make me,” she teased, her toes curling in her shoes.

“Oh, I’ll make you, alright,” he rasped, grabbing her by the hair again and fucking her even more harshly. “Gonna pound this pussy until you have to fuckin’ limp out of here.” When she moaned—both at the image and the way he was fucking her—, he laughed. “Oh, you like that, huh? You want me to fuck you so hard you can’t walk? Is that it?”

She nodded frantically, clenching her eyes shut and whining, “I want it, feels so good when you fuck me, Tim—“

“Fuck,” he grunted. “You wanna stumble out of here, babydoll? You want everyone to know whose little fucktoy you are?”

“Uh huh,” Lea moaned, her arms giving out under her from the force of his thrusts. She fell to her elbows, barely catching herself. “God, Tim,” she whined.

“You are mine, you got that?”

“Yours, yours, yours,” she chanted, willing to give him anything if he just didn’t stop.

“So the next time,” he panted out, “some guy starts talking to you, being too friendly, say you’ve got a boyfriend. You got that?”

She nodded. “Yes, I— I will, I promise, fuck—“

“Good girl,” he praised, squeezing her hips. “You belong to me. You belong to me.”

“Yes,” she agreed without hesitation, eager to please him, especially when he was inside her like this. ‘“m all yours, I swear.”

“Fuckin’ own you, don’t I?” he growled, smacking her ass again. “Own this tight little pussy, your pretty titties, big fuckin’ ass.”

“Mhm,” she gasped out, trying to arch against him despite the angle. “Every part of me is yours.”

“That’s right, Lea,” he groaned, running his hands up her back and along the fake ivy of her costume. “My pretty baby is all mine.” After a pause, he demanded, “Tell me you love me, sweetheart.”

“I love you, Timothée,” she forced out, her body jolting. Blood had long since rushed to her head, but she hadn’t noticed, really. How could she notice when he was inside her this way, making her feel so good? And anyway, she wanted to be his to use however he liked.

“Yeah?” he rasped, fucking her harder, impossibly harder. “Tell me how much, then.”

“More than anything,” she swore. “I love you more than anything.”

He leaned over and pressed a soft, sweet kiss to her spine. “I love you, too, Lea.” He ran his hands up and down her sides, rocking into her slowly rather than fucking her with harsh thrusts. Another kiss. “So fuckin’ much, sweetheart. So fuckin’ much.”

“I want you to—“ she cut herself off briefly, gulping down the intensity of what she was feeling, the overwhelming amount of love and adoration exuding from her pores.

“What do you want, love?” he asked her quietly, rocking into her. “Tell me.”

“I want… I wanna have your baby,” Lea  admitted. She’d told him that before, he knew she wanted it, but at that exact moment, she wanted him to get her pregnant so badly she thought she might die if he didn’t.

“I know, sweetheart,” he crooned. “I know you want it. Just a little longer, okay? Just a little longer, and I’ll give you a baby, I promise.”

“Please,” she whined softly. “I— I love you so much, I want—“

“I know, Lea,” he assured her gently. “It’s okay. As soon as we can have one, we will. Okay?”

“I want one now,” she whined. “Please, Tim, I want you to get me pregnant right now—“

“I want it, too, baby,” he promised. “But we gotta hold off for a little longer. And I know it’ll be so worth it. I’ll fill you up, fuck a baby into you.” She whined, trying her damnedest to roll her pelvis up against his despite the angle preventing her from doing so. “You want that, darling?”

“Yes, please,” she whimpered.

“I’ll get you pregnant, Lea,” he rasped, kissing her back again, nuzzling into her hair. “I will, I promise. You just gotta be patient for me, alright?”

“Mmmmf,” she whined needily.

“I know,” he chuckled softly, running his hands up and down her sides. “God, baby, I can’t wait to get you pregnant. You’ll look so fuckin’ sexy.”

“I want it, I want it, I want it, I want it—“

“I know,” Tim grunted, thrusting harder again. “I know you do. I’ll give it to you, I swear I will, just— oh fuck, Lea, you’re gonna make me cum if you keep clenching around me like that.”

“Cum in me,” she immediately begged. “I want you to, I want you to cum in me and knock me up, I want it, please—“

“God, of course you want it,” he muttered hoarsely.

“I wanna cum, Tim,” she pleaded.

“Not yet,” he reminded her. “Part of your punishment, remember? You satisfy me first, and then I’ll let you cum.”

Lea decided she was perfectly fine with this, because it meant he’d cum inside her, and how was she gonna say no to that? So she nodded. “Yes, please.”

“Good girl,” he practically growled, driving into her harder, faster. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum, gonna fill you up, sweetheart, I—“

She reached behind her and put her hand over his, where it rested at her hip. “Inside me,” she said quietly.

“F— fuck,” he gasped. “I— I love you, Lea, fuck—“

“I love you, too,” she told him breathlessly. “Don’t stop.” She laced their fingers together.

He groaned low in his throat, his thrusts slow and deep, and then they stopped entirely. “Okay,” he panted, pulling out of her. She winced, and he pulled her upright again, kissing her shoulder as he did so. She was wobbly on her feet, which was to be expected, quite frankly, so she had to wrap her arms around his neck as he leaned in to kiss her, snaking a hand between her legs. “You did so good for me, sweetheart,” he said into their kiss as he started rubbing her clit. “Wanna make you cum for me. Such a good girl.”

Lea whimpered, her hands tangling in his hair. “Tim,” she gasped, her orgasm approaching at a rate that was actually pretty embarrassing. In her defense, though, he was really good at getting her off.

“That’s right,” he encouraged softly, trailing kisses along her jaw and down her neck. “Sweet girl. Cum for me, love.”

“Tim,” she moaned, her legs shaking from how close she was, how good it felt. He wrapped an arm around her waist so as to hold her up and rubbed her clit faster, using his own cum to ease his movements.

“There you go, baby,” he said. “C’mon, give it to me. Cum.”

And when she did, he kissed her firmly to swallow her moans. They kept kissing as she came down. Dazed and worn out, Lea blinked up at him blearily.

He smiled down at her affectionately and brushed her hair away from her face. “I love you.” She had barely managed to return the sentiment before he kissed her again, something like desperation bleeding into it. When he pulled away, he cupped her face in his hands. “Lea, sweetheart, how would you feel about going public?”

She frowned, turning his words over in her head, which was still fuzzy from her orgasm. “Public? What do you mean?”

He took her hand in his, grabbing a box of tissues off the table near the theater doors and handing her several to clean herself with. She did so with the hand he didn’t seem to want to let go of.

“I mean, like…” He paused. “Not hiding that we’re together. We could go on dates without worrying, you could travel with me openly, I could kiss you in public if I wanted.”

She tensed, throwing the tissues away and dropping them into a nearby trash can. “But… but what about Elle? And— and your wife?”

Tim shrugged. “She’s here. We should talk to her about it.” He squeezed her hand. “About us.”

She smiled. “You really want that with me? You’re sure?”

He nodded. “I can’t handle seeing some asshole hit on you again and not be able to say anything. I can’t. I love you and I want to be able to be with you without worrying about hiding it.”

Her smile widened, and she leaned up to kiss him. “I love you, too.”

“Is… is that a yes?”

“Of course it is,” she giggled. “It’ll be weird to not have it confined to your finsta anymore.”

“Well, most of those pictures aren’t gonna be public,” he pointed out.

Lea hummed. “Does this mean you’re gonna get divorced sooner rather than later?”

He nodded. “If Lola agrees, yeah. I just gotta run it by her first.”

“Okay,” Lea said happily.

“Okay, so you stay here for five minutes and then come out, okay? We can’t raise any eyebrows quite yet.” She nodded, and he took her chin between his fingers and leaned down to kiss her. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

“More than anything?”

“Well, don’t be a dick about it.”

He laughed and kissed her again.

This fic is the tape which I have wrapped around myself so as not to fall apart btw hope you enjoy

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[imnotoverlyobsessive]

Title of Your Sex Tape

Chapter Five: Soft Breath, Beating Heart

AO3 one two three four five six seven eight

Mayday, situation overload; I’m restless, obsessed with your future. And all my worries, they don’t bother you; collected, you render me useless.- All Time Low, For Baltimore

She fidgeted anxiously in the back seat of the rideshare Tim had called for her. They weren’t FaceTiming anymore, but they were texting, and god were the texts dirty.

How much longer, baby ? I feel like I’m going insane from wanting to touch you

Just a couple more mins

Can’t wait to see you again, I wanna kiss you so bad

I want to kiss you, too

Wanna see how hard I am for you ?

Lea bit her lip at that, shakily typing out her reply.

Yes please

A picture came through of Tim stroking himself, and she had to fight back a whimper.

 Do you know why I’m like this, Lea ?

Because it’s your job?

Because I’m thinking about you. I’m thinking about what you taste like, the way you kiss me, the way you moan my name. I’m gonna make you cum so hard when you get here

Suddenly, the car pulled to a stop in front of the studio. “Here we are,” her driver said with a polite smile. “Have a good one.”

“Thanks, you too,” Lea told him shakily before stepping out and hurrying inside.

“Lea,” the director said in surprise when he saw her walk in the door. “Wasn’t expecting you today.”

“Oh, um… Tim asked me to come by, so…”

“Ah,” the director nodded. “That makes sense; I suspect he’s gotten a bit spoiled by all the attention you give him. In any case, he’s—“

At that exact moment, however, the man in question burst out of his dressing room and marched over towards her with purpose, nudity and all.

The director blinked in surprise, as did Susie, one of the other fluffers that Lea had become work friends with. Tim paid them no mind, however, simply grabbing Lea by the hand wordlessly and pulling her towards his dressing room.

“You’re still wearing the stockings,” he observed as they stepped inside.

“It’s still cold outside,” she pointed out. 

Tim locked the door behind them and pulled her towards the couch. “It’s cold, but you’re wearing that tiny little fucking skirt?”

Lea flushed. “You seemed to like it, so…”

He laid down on the couch. “Damn right I like it. Take your panties off.”

Lea took her shoes and socks off, then her panties, her movements quick and aborted. 

He stared at her for a moment before deciding, “Sweater and bra, too. I wanna see your tits.”

She obeyed this command hastily as well. “What about the skirt?”

“Nuh uh,” he smirked. “No, you leave the skirt and stockings on.”

“O— okay.”

He grabbed her by the waist and yanked her towards him. “Good girl. Now sit on my face.”

Lea’s eyes widened. “I didn’t think you were serious about that!”

“You bet your sexy ass I was,” he said impatiently. “Sit. On. My. Face.”

She did so, feeling very hesitant and very embarrassed at having him see her body so close up, but Tim just groaned at the sight of her, took her ass in his hands, and pulled her down to him so he could lap at her. Lea yelped in surprise, because he hadn’t teased her even a little; he’d just gone right into flicking his tongue over her clit.

He reached up with one hand to twist her nipple sharply, his other hand kneading her ass. She began to roll her hips, tilting her head back at the exquisite sensations he was bringing forth in her.

“That’s it, baby,” he growled, the sound somewhat muffled. “Ride my face like a good little slut.”

Lea fisted a hand in his curls, holding him against her as he tugged her nipple and swirled his tongue around her clit in fast little circles. She was getting close and it hadn’t even been that long. 

“Fuck, fuck, oh god, Tim—“

“You’re gonna cum for me already, aren’t you?” he murmured, his breath hot on her sensitive clit.

Lea nodded jerkily, desperate for the release only he was capable of granting her. “You’re gonna make me cum, I’m gonna cum, fuck I want it so bad—“

“Then cum,” Tim ordered sharply before taking her clit between his lips and sucking.

Lea spasmed, her hips bucking against his face as he worked her through her orgasm.

Shockingly, by the time she came down and was situated next to him on the couch, she wasn’t sated. He was hard, stroking himself, and her mouth was watering. She wanted…

“Tim,” Lea started hesitantly, “would you mind if I… tried something?”

He smirked, brushing her hair from her eyes. “What do you wanna try, angel?”

Reaching out and tentatively wrapping her hand around his throbbing length, beginning to stroke him, she very quietly said, “What if instead of my hands, I used my mouth?”

He froze. “Would you like to do that?”

Flushing, she nodded. “If— if you don’t mind too much.”

“Don’t mind too much?” Tim scoffed in disbelief. “Do you have any idea how often I think about you sucking my cock?”

Leaning across the couch so she could examine him closer, she recalled how she’d been afraid of this once. Now, though, all she wanted was to taste him. To have him inside her.

“Will you teach me?”

“I’ll teach you anything you wanna know,” he murmured. When she climbed on the couch and kneeled in front of him, he groaned. “Fuck, you’re gorgeous like that, on your knees for me.”

She reached out and gripped him in her hand, brushing her lips over his tip in a soft kiss. “I want you to tell me what you like, Timothée. I want to please you.”

“I have a feeling anything you do will please me,” he confessed with a breathy chuckle. “But since you’re asking, why don’t you just start with your tongue?”

Lea hummed, considering this, and then licked his tip, tasting the fluid that had beaded there. He inhaled sharply, and she did it again, slower this time. He tasted… interesting. Salty and musky and most decidedly male. Curiously, she swirled her tongue around the head, watching his reaction closely.

“There you go, sweetheart,” he rasped. “Now just… take it in your mouth. Only as much as feels comfortable, okay?”

She hummed again, doing as she was told. He fisted a hand in her hair, tugging lightly, and the sting in her scalp was far more delicious than she’d have expected.

“Fuck,” he groaned, and she lifted her eyes to watch his face. He was looking down at her, his cheeks flushed and eyes lidded and dark. “Suck your cheeks in, baby.” She did so, and he moaned low in his throat. “Good girl, good girl, just—“ he cut himself off with a gasp when she swirled her tongue around the head curiously. Something had come out of the tip, and it was weirdly salty, but not unpleasant. “Move up and down on it,” he pleaded. “Fuck, Lea—“

Something about the way he was looking at her, the sounds he made… it sent sparks through her veins, and without much thought, she slid a hand between her legs and started to rub herself. She wasn’t as good as him, not nearly, but even so, she moaned around his length at the relief of her throbbing clit being touched.

“Baby,” he groaned. “Oh, fucking hell, Lea. Are you… are you touching yourself, sweetheart?”

She didn’t verbalize a response, instead moaning and sucking him more.

Tim groaned regretfully, pulling her off his dick and up into his lap so as to kiss her neck.

“Why’d you make me stop?” she whined, wishing she’d been allowed to continue.

“Seeing you get so horny from sucking my dick that you couldn’t help but rub your pretty little clit— that was gonna make me cum, Lea,” he explained. She pouted. “Not to worry,” he assured her with a soft chuckle against the skin of her throat. “I’ll fingerfuck you till you cum.”

He slipped his hand between her thighs then, picking up rubbing her clit where she’d left off, and she moaned loudly. She felt his smirk against her neck, and then he slid two fingers inside of her, curling them with each thrust.

Still sensitive from her orgasm before, she could already feel a second one building.

“F— fuck,” she stuttered out in a gasp. “Feels so good.”

“You’re gonna cum for me already, huh?” he observed with another chuckle. “Such a needy little thing, aren’t you?”

Lea whined, threading her fingers into his hair. “‘m gonna cum,” she gasped out as he rubbed her clit faster and faster. “Oh fuck, I’m gonna cum—“

“That’s it, baby,” he murmured, using his free hand to toy with her nipple. “So pretty when you fall apart. Cum for me, sweetheart. Lemme hear you moan my name.”

“Tim,” she moaned obediently. “F— fuck, I—“ She couldn’t finish her statement, because then she orgasmed with a gasp of his name.

He slowly removed his fingers from her, wrapping an arm around her and kissing her shoulder affectionately. She leaned against his chest, burying her face in the crook of his neck.

“D’you need me to…” she trailed off, mind in a daze.

He snorted. “No, Lea. I’m good.”

She yawned. “You sure?”

“Oh yeah,” he confirmed.

Just then, there was a knock at the door and a voice said he was needed on set. Tim stood, stretching his arms over his head. 

“Look,” Tim addressed Lea, who had settled onto the couch, already laying down. “Why don’t you take a nap?” He grabbed a blanket and settled it over her. “I’ll be back in a few hours. Have some lunch after you wake up, okay?”

“Mmkay,” she mumbled, already half asleep.

Look I told you guys I don’t update consistently okay this is why I usually wait until after the fic is done to post

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[imnotoverlyobsessive]

In Your Dreams

Moodboard by @softhecreator

Chapter Seven: You Come Around & The Armor Falls, Pierce the Room Like a Cannonball

AO3 info one two three four five six seven epilogue

All my work is 18+.

When I was younger, I saw my daddy cry and curse at the wind. He broke his own heart and I watched as he tried to reassemble it. And my mama swore that she would never let herself forget. And that was the day that I promised that I’d never sing of love if it does not exist. But darling, you are the only exception.- Paramore, The Only Exception

It took a second for the words to sink in. “I’m on birth control, so I doubt I’m pregnant.”

Um…” He scratched the back of his neck uncomfortably. “No, that wouldn’t really… I mean, hormonal birth control doesn’t have any effect on Otherworlders, so…”

She stopped breathing.

“I can’t be pregnant,” she told him slowly. “I can’t be. I’m… I’m twenty, Tim. I just turned twenty less than four months ago!” 

“Y— yes,” he stuttered out awkwardly. “I’m sorry, I thought you knew. I figured my mom would’ve told you.” He paused, tilting his head in consideration. “Actually, it’s likely she would’ve assumed I would’ve told you, so it wouldn’t have occurred to her to reiterate what she figured you’d already know…”

She stared at him in disbelief. “I cannot possibly be pregnant.”

“Would it really be so bad if you were?” His voice was soft, timid. As if he were afraid of her answer.

“Would it—“ she sputtered. “Of course it would be!” He flinched, but she continued, “It’s not that I don’t love you, of course I do, it’s just it would completely disrupt my life! How can I go back if I’m fucking pregnant, I—“

“Wait,” he cut her off. “Go back? What do you mean go back?”

“Go back to my life,” she said impatiently. “You’re alive, you’re okay. You don’t need me anymore. I can go back to my life. We can go back to being friends and nothing else...” She paused before grumbling, “I’ve just been procrastinating on it.”

“Why would you think that?” he asked, astonishment clear in his voice.

She blinked at him. “Why wouldn’t I think that?”

Tim started to pace back and forth, raking his hand through his curls. “I— I told you I can’t feed off anyone else now. You’re it. And I thought you were okay with that. I thought you loved me.” His voice broke then. “Did you lie? Did you not mean it? Do you not love me?”

“Of course I love you!” she hurriedly insisted. “It’s not that I don’t love you, of course I love you, how could I not?”

“Then why?” he demanded, pinning her with his gaze. “Why would you want to leave me?”

“I don’t want to leave you,” she admitted. “I just can’t stay.”

“But why?” he pressed. “If you want to stay, if you love me, why would you leave?”

Her heart was pounding in her chest, blood thrumming in her ears, and she abruptly blurted out, “I don’t want to be vulnerable.” He did nothing but stare at her, so she rushed on, “I’ve never wanted that kind of vulnerability. You’d never intentionally hurt me, I know you wouldn’t, but you could. You could destroy me, irreparably shatter my heart into a million tiny little pieces. I’ve spent my whole life avoiding this exact thing—actually, no, something easier than this, less intense than this, ‘cause I figured it’d be with a human if it happened—and here I am, loving someone when I wish I could’ve avoided it, just like my mom did, and you could rip me apart the same way she got ripped apart, and I’d— I’d fucking let you. I’d let you destroy me if you wanted to.” She paused, her chest heaving, and then hoarsely asked, “Do you have any idea how terrifying that is for me?”

Tim looked at her for a long moment. “Lea, if anyone tried to hurt you, including me, I don’t… I don’t even know what I’d do.”

She blinked away tears she hadn’t noticed until they gathered at her eyelashes. “What do you mean?”

“I’ve killed before,” he told her, looking away momentarily. “To save my own life, to save the lives of others. It’s been a few centuries, but… yeah. It’s happened before. I try not to think about it. But for you…” He paused, sighing and tilting his head back, exposing the length of his neck that was far more attractive than it had any right to be, really. “For you,” he went on, “I’d raze cities if I had to. If anyone tried to hurt you.”

She crossed her arm over her abdomen, cupping her elbow. “I wouldn’t want you to do that.”

He nodded. “I’m sure you wouldn’t, but I don’t think it’d be up to either of us, really.” A hoarse laugh. “Incubi don’t exactly have a great track record with self control when their mates—their children, too—are threatened or harmed.”

Children.

Lea focused on her breathing; in and out, in and out. “How likely is it that I’m pregnant?”

He looked at her for awhile, his face blank in that way she knew meant he was trying to hide his emotions. “Extremely.”

She crossed both arms over her stomach and croaked, “How are you so sure?”

Tim sighed. “Well, birth control doesn’t work with me, like I said, and we’ve been having sex multiple times a day for over a month now, which I figure would make it likely even with a human. But also, the first few times—the first few weeks after mating, I mean—are an extremely, uh… fertile time for both parties. It’s extremely unusual for pregnancy not to occur. I thought you knew. I would’ve…” He paused, taking a deep, shuddering breath. “I would’ve used a condom if I had known you didn’t want…”

She remembered the dreams she’d had—the dreams he’d given her, glimpses of a potential future, one that he couldn’t have shown her if she didn’t want it already—with their children, boys with his hair and facial structure and a little girl with her red curls and his eyes… 

Fuck but she wanted that. Her heart twinged at the thought that she shouldn’t have it, shouldn’t want it to begin with.

“If you don’t want it,” he started slowly, “I’ll understand. I’ll understand if you want to, y’know. Get an abortion.”

She shook her head firmly. “If I’m pregnant, I’m keeping it.”

He nodded, murmuring, “Okay. If that’s what you want.” He looked away from her then before adding, “And if you… if you want to leave, I’ll understand that, too. I wouldn’t blame you.”

She examined his face, the evident pain he was trying his damnedest to hide from her. “You said you can only feed off of me.”

“Yes,” he confirmed, his voice quiet.

“And you’ll die if you can’t?”

He was silent for a few tense beats before speaking again. “Yes.”

“I can’t let you die, Tim,” she whispered tearfully.

He glanced back at her. “Even if you’re scared? Even if it means you’re vulnerable?”

She nodded. “Me being vulnerable, risking getting hurt—destroyed, even—is a hell of a lot better than you dying.”

“Do you love me?” he asked, soft and desperate.

Lea flushed, looking down at the floor. “I do, yeah.”

He took several hesitant steps towards her. “I’m not going to hurt you,” he promised. “I’m going to protect you and take care of you and love you. I’m going to worship you.”

Tears pricked her eyes again. “I want this with you,” she admitted, “and I do love you, I love you so much it’s terrifying. Everything about this is terrifying. This whole situation, me being pregnant—how the fuck can I be pregnant?—is particularly petrifying, how I feel about you, how strongly I feel about you, what you have the capability to do to me, it’s all so fucking scary, I—”

Lea’s words collapsed into tears then, and he closed the remaining distance between them and took her in his arms. For a moment, he just held her against his chest, still bare from earlier, his face pressed to her hair. “I know you’re scared, sweetheart,” he murmured, “but you don’t have to be. I couldn’t hurt you if I tried.”

“I know you won’t try to hurt me,” she said through her tears, “You’re a really good guy, I don’t think you’re capable of hurting someone intentionally. That’s part of why I fell in love with you to begin with, is because of how sweet you are. You’d never hurt me—or anyone else—on purpose, of course you wouldn’t, but you could, and that’s fucking terrifying.”

“Well,” he hummed consideringly, “I guess I’ll just have to spend the rest of time showing you that you’re safe with me.”

Pulling back slightly from his chest, she looked up at him tearfully. “The rest of time, huh?”

Tim smiled softly at her. “Yeah, baby. As long as I have you, I won’t die, and as long as you have me, neither will you.” He paused. “Which is just as well, because I could live an infinite number of lifetimes with you in my arms this way and it still wouldn’t be enough. No amount of time with you will ever be enough.” And after a moment, he added, “And you’re— you’re having my baby. Do you realize how incredible that is?” He laughed disbelievingly. “Fucking hell, you’re having my baby.”

She was still scared, most especially of that, but… he was so goddamn happy about it that it made her fear give way to excitement. Smiling hesitantly, she said, “Y— yeah. I am. I’m having your baby.”

He was gazing at her with such unmistakable adoration that she couldn’t help but stand on her tiptoes and kiss him. He returned it, wrapping an arm around her waist with a growl and hauling her closer.

“Want you again,” he murmured against her lips.

“But we just finished, like, half an hour ago—“

“Yes,” Tim agreed, “I fucked you half an hour ago, and I want to fuck you again now.” He was running his hands over her upper thighs, just beneath where her nightie met her skin, and trailing kisses down her neck.

“You’re such a glutton,” she giggled.

“I am not,” he insisted, feigning offense. “I don’t need to feed, I just enjoy fucking you.”

“On one condition,” she said breathlessly, reaching up to thread her fingers in his hair.

“Yeah?” he muttered, already working on adding a fresh bruise to her throat.

“Prove you’re not just in it for food. Let me suck you first.”

“Fucking hell,” he groaned. “Baby, are you— are you sure? You don’t have to—“

“I want to,” she told him, sinking to her knees in front of him. “I like it. You don’t let me do it enough.”

“Fuck,” he said again as she pulled down the pajama pants that were slung low over his hips. He wasn’t wearing any underwear, so she had nothing to stop her from grabbing his dick and taking it into her mouth eagerly, rubbing her tongue along the barbel under the head. He moaned loudly, and she looked up at him, seeing him throw his head back with pleasure.

She sucked in, hollowing out her cheeks and swirling her tongue around the head. She wished he would let her do this more often, but he always wanted her to cum rather than him. He really was a glutton, wasn’t he?

Bobbing her head rapidly, she slid one of her hands up his torso, reaching down with the other to squeeze her breast roughly.

“Fuckin’ hell, Lea,” he moaned. “Play with those big fuckin’ tits for me, baby. Wanna watch you.” 

She lowered her hand obediently and squeezed both her breasts, pinching her nipples and moaning around his length at the sensation.

“Touch yourself,” he commanded hoarsely, his hand gripping her hair. “Make yourself cum while you suck my cock.”

Reaching down, she hiked the skirt of her nightie up around her waist, continuing to suck him all the while.

“Feel your pussy, baby,” he encouraged. She did so, brushing her fingers over herself. “You wet for me?” he demanded lowly. “Does having my dick in that pretty little mouth of yours make you wet?”

“Mhm,” she moaned around him again, starting to tease her clit with slow circles.

“You call me a glutton,” he growled, “but it’s really you, isn’t it? Wanting to get on your knees for me every chance you get.”

Fuck but she loved it when he talked to her like that. She wanted him to use her, to use her mouth for his own pleasure, and oh god, her pussy, too. She wanted him to do whatever he felt like with her. Moaning at the thought, she rubbed her clit faster, sucking him harder.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” Tim moaned, his hand tightening in her hair. “Such a good girl for me.” She whimpered around him, rolling her hips against her hand. The stimulation combined with his words, his dick in her mouth, it was making her orgasm approach quickly. “You’re gonna cum, aren’t you?” he gasped out. “Gonna cum for me like a good little slut, getting off on sucking my dick?”

“Mmmf,” Lea moaned desperately. She was so close, so fucking close—

“C’mon, baby,” he encouraged, his voice breathless as he stared down at her with those deliciously sexy red eyes. “Cum for me. I can feel how close you are. Cum for me.”

She did so, moaning around him as she erupted, her hips bucking against her hand while her core clenched down on her own emptiness. Still, she didn’t stop sucking him, wanting to please him.

He allowed it for a few minutes, telling her how good she was for him, that she was so pretty with his cock in her mouth. It wasn’t long, however, before he yanked her off of him with a groan that almost sounded pained, pulling her up by her hair. 

“Can’t wait anymore,” he told her before gesturing to the nightie she wore. “Take that off.” She didn’t do it fast enough, still dazed from her orgasm, so he snapped, “Now. Unless you want me to rip it.”

Lea hastened to obey, pulling the dark pink lace nightie over her head as quickly as possible.

“Good girl,” he praised before gesturing to the desk-like dressing table and snapping, “Bend over.”

Fighting off an eager grin, Lea clambered up onto the table, her legs dangling in the air.

“Fuck,” he groaned. “This fuckin’ ass, baby.” He gave her a sharp smack across one of her asscheeks, and she moaned loudly. He laughed low in his throat. “You like that?”

“Mhm,” she whimpered. “I want your cock, please.”

“Far be it from me to deny you what you want,” Tim muttered, running his hands from her ass to her hips, then up over her ass again to her back. “Gonna be a good girl for me, huh?”

“Mhm,” she whined, her fists clenched from how bad she wanted him inside her.

“C’mon, sweetheart,” he chided gently. “Use your words.”

“I’ll— I’ll be good,” she promised hastily. “I’ll be good for you, I swear, please just—“

“There you go,” he murmured, grasping her hips firmly as he slid into her.

Lea cried out, her toes curling from the delicious sensation of being filled.

“Perfect fuckin’ pussy,” he grunted, immediately setting a rough pace, slamming her into the table with each thrust.

“Tim, Tim, Tim—” she chanted, already so far gone her words were blurring together.

“So pretty when I fuck you,” he moaned. “So pretty when you were on your knees from me with my cock in your mouth, rubbing your little clit till you came. Did you like that, baby? Did you like getting off while you sucked me?”

“Yes,” she gasped out. “I— I like pleasing you.” He rewarded her response with a hard thrust, and she moaned. “Fuck, feels good, feels so good—”

“I fucked a baby into you, Lea,” he reminded her, his voice as rough as the way he handled her, fucked into her. “I pounded this little pussy so good, came inside you so much, that I got you pregnant.”

That stirred up something unexpected in her stomach, like butterflies of fire, and she whimpered again. “You— you did.”

“Can’t wait to see you grow,” he muttered. “Gonna be so sexy, belly and tits all swollen ‘cause of how good I give it to you.”

“Tim,” she moaned. “Want your baby. Want it, I want it, I want it—”

He chuckled darkly. “Yeah, I’ll bet you do. You know why I put those images of you pregnant in your mind, sweetheart?”

Lea shook her head wordlessly, too focused on the way he was slamming into her to respond with words.

“I did it ‘cause once I knew you had feelings for me, if you saw yourself pregnant with my child, you wouldn’t be able to stop thinking about it.” He ran a hand up her back and back down again before smacking her ass sharply. Lea yelped, and he leaned down to murmur, “Was I right?”

“Y— yes,” she admitted hoarsely. “Yes, you—“ she cut herself off at a particularly rough thrust.

“Keep going,” he ordered, smacking her ass again.

She moaned at the sting, but managed to get out, “You were right. I saw it, and all I tried so hard to ignore how bad I—oh fuck, just like that, please—how bad I wanted your baby, how bad I wanted you to fuck me, god, please don’t stop—“

“Not gonna stop, sweetheart,” he promised. “Gonna fuck you till you’re satisfied. As much as you want, okay?”

Lea clenched around him at the thought. “I don’t think I’ll ever be satisfied, it feels too good,” she whined. “More, please, I want more—“

“I know, baby,” he groaned. “Fuck, I know. You’re the glutton here, huh?” She whined at his teasing, at the way he fucked her. “As soon as I put my dick in you for the first time, you couldn’t get enough. Don’t think I don’t notice how desperate you always are for it, to get fucked.”

She whined again, burying her face in her arms in mild humiliation that, for whatever reason, sent a tingle down her spine.

“Don’t be embarrassed,” he crooned a bit condescendingly. “I know it’s my fault. I’m the one who turned you into a needy, greedy little cockslut. It’s not your fault, sweetheart. You couldn’t help it, could you?”

“N— no,” she stuttered on a moan. “Can’t help it, feels too good, oh fuck, Tim—”

“I know, baby,” he assured her. “I know. I’ll keep your pussy nice and full, okay? Make sure you can have my cock filling you up whenever you want it, whenever I feel like giving it to you. Keep you nice and satisfied.” She let out a sound that was halfway between a whine and a moan, and he chuckled softly, fucking her so hard and so fast that her body jolted against the table with his every movement. “Would you like that, sweetheart?” he asked her gently, softly, the contrast between his tone and his rough handling of her so vast it was almost startling. “Would you like me to keep you fucked full? Take you with me wherever I go, use your tight little pussy whenever I feel like it, fuck however many babies into you I want— would you like that?”

“Yes,” she moaned, clenching around him at his words. “Yes, I want that, I want it, fuck don’t stop—”

He smacked her ass again, the sting making her cry out with delight. “I command and you obey, remember? You can ask for what you want, but you don’t get to tell me. Understand?”

“Y— yes,” she whimpered, wishing he’d spank her again. “Can you…” She gulped, swallowing her spit. “Can you do that again, please?”

“What, this?” With that, he spanked her again, a bit harder this time.

“Yes,” Lea gasped out breathlessly. He smacked her other asscheek, and she moaned again, even louder than before. “Want you to fuck me, please,” she whimpered. “Use me, want you to feed from me—”

“Fuckin’ hell, baby,” he grunted, spanking her again before rubbing the reddened, sensitive skin. “You’re gonna let me have it whenever I want, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” she promised. “Yes, fuck, anything you want, anything, just don’t stop, please don’t stop, want you to fuck me, please keep fucking me—”

Tim gripped her hair tightly, yanking her head up. “Take it, sweetheart,” he groaned. “Take this dick, baby, c’mon.”

With every thrust, her body jolted, and she was moaning a seemingly endless slew of, “Unh, unh, unh, unh—“ while he fucked into her, stretching her out in the way she loved so much.

“Such a good little slut for me,” he grunted. “Letting me fuck you, begging for it like the cock-starved whore you.” The grip he had on her hair tightened. “Gonna give me a baby, aren’t you, sweetheart?”

“Yes,” she moaned, her core clenching around him again at the reminder. “I want your baby, Tim, I—”

“I know you do, love,” he murmured, smacking her ass again, making her whimper. “We’ll plan the next one, how ‘bout that? Fucking you full so I can put a baby inside you will be so much more fun now that you know it’s gonna happen. Would you like that?”

“Mhm,” she gasped. “I want— I want— oh fuck—”

“Use your words, Lea,” he chastised. “Tell me what you want.”

“I want you to use me,” she moaned, arching her back as he pounded into her. “I want— I want you to fuck me, feed from me, get me pregnant as many times as you want, just— just do whatever you want with me, please, I want it, I want it.”

“Fucking hell,” he groaned, and with another smack to her ass, he snapped, “C’mere.” And then he grabbed her hips and hoisted her up a bit so she was resting on her forearms, her torso raised off the table. He reached around her body, circling her clit in swift, precise swipes, and she moaned. “You’re gonna cum for me, you got that?”

“Yes,” Lea agreed hoarsely without hesitation. “Anything you want.”

“Want you to cum on this cock, baby,” he growled. “Do as I say. Cum for me.”

She wasn’t sure what it was; it could’ve been the way he fucked her and rubbed her clit—he was so good at that—or it could’ve been his command, but either way, she came abruptly, her orgasm ripping through her like a tidal wave.

He fucked her through it until he, too, found his release.

She lay there on the table in a fucked-out daze for several long minutes. Two separate instances of sex within an hour really drained her. She was barely even aware of being picked up and carried back to bed.

“C’mon, sweetheart,” he murmured, tucking her in and wrapping her in his arms. “Sleep.”

So she did.

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[imnotoverlyobsessive]

In Your Dreams

Moodboard by @softhecreator

Chapter Six: You Got Inside My Head & Set A Fire There Instead

AO3 info one two three four five six seven epilogue

All my work is 18+.

Maybe I know somewhere deep in my soul that love never lasts, and we’ve got to find other ways to make it alone or keep a straight face. And I’ve always lived like this; keeping a comfortable distance, and up until now I had sworn to myself that I’m content with loneliness, ‘cause none of it was ever worth the risk.- Paramore, The Only Exception

Lea really hadn’t meant to stick around for so long. She’d figured that once he’d, uhhh, ‘claimed’ her or whatever, that would be enough, that she’d be able to go back to her shared shoebox apartment with its windows all facing brick walls and the kitchen she couldn’t turn around in and the doors that didn’t stay closed and her cold bed, to her rapidly increasing student loan debt and her crippling anxiety and the constant, neverending sense that something about her life was wrong.

In any case, she had intended to go home once Tim was in the clear.

She was showering the following afternoon, staring out the window that overlooked the city. Water droplets from the shower dripped down the glass, and Lea sighed, tilting her head back to finish rinsing her hair and wondering how in the hell she was gonna go back home after all this.

“Well that’s a sight I could get used to.”

She damn near jumped a foot in the air at Tim’s voice echoing off the marble floors, immediately rushing to hide behind the wall of the large shower.

He laughed. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to startle you, I was just appreciating the view!”

Lea blinked rapidly, trying to process what was happening. She still hadn’t fully processed the night before, and here she was, butt naked, totally regretting using his shower rather than one of the ones in the guest rooms. He had fuckin’ five of them, so it wasn’t like there wasn’t space.

After several bests of silence, the only sound the running water from the shower, he softly said, “Are you afraid of me?”

Lea jolted towards the clear shower door, looking at him around the corner of the wall. “Of course not!” she squeaked, eyes wide.

He looked back at her, his gaze sad. “Then why are you hiding from me?”

She glanced down briefly at his body, only just now noticing his nudity. “I just…” She gulped. “I just feel weird about you, like. Seeing me this way, y’know?”

Frowning outright then, Tim asked, “I’ll admit I’m pretty casual about being naked, living as an incubus for several thousand years will do that, but why on earth would you be shy with me?” When she didn’t answer right away, he added, “I’ll respect your feelings, don’t get me wrong, I just— you’re my mate, we had sex a few hours ago, and I legitimately cannot fathom why you’d feel weird. Will you please help me understand?”

“I’m… not used to being naked in front of anyone,” she admitted softly, standing back upright to lean against the wall of the shower, hidden from him again. “Like, okay, how often do you have to, y’know. Feed?”

There were a few seconds of silence as he considered this. “I dunno. Every few weeks, maybe?”

“Right,” Lea confirmed her understanding, “and do you feed from a different woman every time?”

“Usually, yeah,” he said slowly, as if he were trying to figure out where she was going with this.

“And that’s even when you were in relationships?”

He was silent for a few moments again. “I can only feed from humans, and I haven’t been involved with one romantically in I don’t even know how long—centuries, at the very least, maybe longer—, so I had to… with other women.”

“You were with another human before?”

“Yes.”

“Who was she?”

“Her name was Alane.”

Lea’s heart thudded in her chest.

“Did you love her?”

“Yes.”

“What happened?”

He sighed, and she heard him slide down the outside wall of the shower.

“I’ll have to tell you eventually, I guess.”

“You don’t have to,” she assured him hurriedly.

“No, you need to know.” A deep breath. “She was a Gaul, captured by Romans. I knew what they did to women, so I went to help. No clue why, I’m fucking useless with that kinda thing, but I went to help. But when I got there…” He let out a hoarse laugh. “She’d killed two of them and was working on a third.”

“Jesus,” Lea muttered.

“Totally covered in blood,” he went on, “I think she would’ve tried to kill me, too, if I hadn’t blurted some random shit out in French. Gave her enough pause to let me help her escape, I guess.”

“Then… why aren’t you with her now?” Lea asked softly, hoping he wouldn’t notice the quiver in her voice.

“We were together for a few human lifetimes,” he admitted. “We were careful—we were so fucking careful—but birth control wasn’t an exact science then, and, well… I told you that most women can’t stay pregnant with an incubus’ baby.” Another snort. “Stubborn girl—she was a lot like you that way, actually; maybe that’s what attracted to me to her in the first place, was her similarities to my future mate—refused to let me get it flushed out of her. I told her, I told her she couldn’t survive it, but she was damned and determined to try anyway.”

“And then?” she asked shakily.

“She died.” His voice was soft, almost hesitant. Regretful. “She died because she loved me.”

Despite the rather intense jealousy she was feeling, her heart ached for the pain he’d been through. It was clear he blamed himself for Alane’s death.

Taking a deep breath and steeling herself, Lea reached out and opened the shower door. The hot water was beating against her skin, the sound of it almost drowning her out when she whispered, “You can come in, too.” A slight hesitation. “If— if you want, I mean.”

There was silence for a few long moments before she heard him stand, and then he stepped into the shower.

His hair was tousled from sleep, but his skin wasn’t sallow anymore; the bags under his eyes were gone, too. He was still a bit thinner than she knew was normal for him, but he definitely looked better. Healthier.

He closed the door behind him, gazing down at her and not taking his eyes off hers. “It wasn’t your fault, Tim.” He grimaced, so she reiterated, “It was not your fault. It wasn’t your fault she got pregnant. It was an accident. It wasn’t your fault that she chose to continue the pregnancy, either. None of it was your fault.”

He wasn’t grimacing anymore, just kinda studying her expression. “You aren’t jealous?” He looked almost disappointed, the prick.

“I never said I wasn’t jealous,” Lea admitted slowly, “but I don’t want you to blame yourself for something that’s not your fault. I don’t like seeing you in pain.”

A small, soft smile twitched at the corners of his lips, and he took a step closer to her, taking one of her hands in his. “Everything’s less painful when I look at you,” he murmured. “Hearing your voice, seeing you smile, touching your skin— it sets me at ease. Even when I was close to death, whenever you were next to me, it felt like everything would be alright.”

Tears filled her eyes at that, and she looked away. “Tim…”

“I think,” he went on in that soft, sweet voice, “that I could conquer the world if you held my hand while I did it.” After a moment, he added, “Plus, you’re jealous, it’s very obvious, and it’s awesome—“

Lea flushed, crossing her arms over her breasts with a grumble of, “Like you wouldn’t be jealous, too, demon boy.”

“Psh,” he scoffed, waving his hand dismissively. “You kidding? I’m jealous of everyone that’s so much as looked at you.”

“You’re a dork,” she muttered, fighting off a smile.

“Maybe,” he shrugged. “Or maybe I just love you.”

She couldn’t stop herself from smiling then.

“Are you done showering?” he asked quietly.

Lea blinked, surprised at the question. “I should probably rinse my hair again. Might still have conditioner in it.”

He stepped closer, and her heart lurched up into her throat at the anticipation of feeling his skin against hers again, but he just reached behind her and took the handheld shower nozzle. 

“Turn around.” It was a soft, gentle command, but it was a command nonetheless. Steadfastly ignoring the fluttering in her abdomen, she obeyed, turning to face the marble tiles of the wall and adjusting her hair so it fell in a wave of dark red curls down her back.

“Lean your head back,” he told her gently. She did so, keeping her eyes shut, and he held the nozzle close to her scalp and ran his fingers through her hair, careful not to miss anything. “Did you comb your hair out already?”

“Y— yeah,” she mumbled, pointing vaguely in the direction of the wide-tooth comb that sat on the ledge with the various shower-related items.

He hummed before continuing to rinse out her hair in silence.

Once he was done, he leaned forward to replace the shower nozzle again, and the one on the ceiling began to cascade down onto them once more. Without a word, he wrapped his arms around her so her back was against his chest. And stomach, too, because he was a tall bastard.

Tim’s arms were around her waist, just below her breasts, and his thumb brushed the underside of one of them.

Lea gulped anxiously, wishing he’d touch her fully, grab her breast the way he’d done the night before. “How are you, uh… how are you feeling?”

“What d’you mean?” he mumbled into her hair.

“Well, you almost died yesterday,” she said slowly. “So, how are you feeling?”

His arms tightened around her. “I’m alive. You’re here. I’m alive because you’re here. So I’m doing pretty fuckin’ awesome, I’d say.”

She reached up and brushed her hand gently over one of his, lacing their fingers together.

“I’m glad you’re okay.”

She felt him shrug. “I wasn’t expecting to be, but I’m not gonna lie and say I’m not thrilled about you loving me.” He paused momentarily before admitting, “And also that you let me fuck you. That was pretty great.”

He moved her hair to one side and started kissing her neck then, and she squeaked in surprise. “Are you, uh… are you hungry again? Not— not for food, I mean, but like, for… y’know…”

She could hear the smirk in his voice, feel it against the damp skin of her neck. “I only need to feed every few weeks,” he reminded her. “However, that doesn’t mean I don’t want to fuck you again, because I very much do. It’s less about my biological need for it and more about my love for my incredibly sexy mate and the natural desire I have to watch said mate’s tits bounce as I fuck her until she cums on my cock.”

Lea’s face flamed, the sensation intensifying further when she realized he was hard behind her.

“But,” he was saying, “we don’t have to. I will never try to make you or convince you to do anything you don’t wanna do.”

“I know,” she said, tightening her fingers over his. “You almost died ‘cause you didn’t wanna risk guilting me.”

“Doesn’t mean I don’t want you,” he murmured, one of his hands sliding down her side to grasp her hip firmly. “God do I want you.”

“Tim,” she exhaled, leaning back against his chest.

“Baby.” His voice was hoarse, desperate, and he went on, “Do you want that? I won’t ask you to if you don’t want it, but if you do…” 

Flushing, she looked at her feet and said, “Maybe we could… go back to bed?”

“If you want.” He shrugged before gesturing to the windows. “The windows are tinted, though. No one can see in; they look completely black from outside.”

She blinked rapidly, eyes wide. “Oh?”

“Mhm,” Tim confirmed, taking her hand in his. “So why don’t you just jump up here—“ he guided her to the windowsill, encouraging her to sit down. “—And spread your legs for me?”

“Are you sure you wanna—“

“Lea,” he cut her off, voice serious, “knowing you want me, I think that I cannot possibly handle the prospect of not having you.”

“O— okay,” she managed. 

“Good girl,” he praised with a smirk, stepping between her legs, his hands on her knees. “Gonna make you feel good, baby.” He reached between them, gripping his dick and guiding it to her entrance, pressing against her.

Lea bit her lip, whimpering. “Please, Tim, I can’t—“

“Can’t what, sweetheart?” he crooned gently, rubbing his cock up and down her folds teasingly. “Tell me what you want.”

Embarrassment gone, she begged, “Want it, want you, want you inside me—“

“Good girl,” he told her again before sliding into her.

She moaned, her head falling back against the glass of the window.

“So fuckin’ tight,” he grunted, pulling out briefly before slamming back in. 

He was looking down at her, and she marveled at how gorgeous he was; the city lights behind her were glinting off his jawline and cheekbones and those red fucking eyes—god, he was feeding from her again, he was feeding from her again—, and his hair hung in soaked curls, longer than it usually was so it nearly brushed his shoulders, water droplets falling from the tips of the strands and onto his bare skin.

It was looking at him, at how insanely, ridiculously, unfairly sexy he was, that caused a desperate, fervent need to touch him to overtake her. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him down to kiss her. He obliged, slanting his lips over hers with a startling amount of ferocity, but it was short-lived because then he was trailing kisses down the column of her throat before taking the tender skin between his teeth and sucking. 

Moaning, she threaded her fingers through his hair, and he groaned at the sound she’d made, thrusting in again. “Made for me,” he grunted against her damp skin. “This pussy was fuckin’ made for me.”

Her fingers tightened around his curls, holding him against her neck as he repeatedly kissed the bruise he’d given her. “Feels— feels good,” she gasped out, spreading her legs wider, wanting him to fuck her senseless, fuck her until she couldn’t walk or move or breathe.

Tim righted himself again, leaning his forehead against hers, his red eyes boring into hers, pinning her there against the window as if each snap of his hips didn’t have the same effect. “You like it?” he wanted to know, the words an exhalation brushing against her lips. “You like it when I fuck you?”

Nodding jerkily, Lea arched into his touch when he reached down to grasp one of her breasts, tugging sharply on the nipple. “I like it,” she admitted, her voice breathless. “God, please don’t stop—“

His hips jackhammered against her, and he slid one hand up to cup her neck, the one on her breast moving to grasp her hip so as to hold her in place. “No god here, baby,” he muttered, stroking her skin affectionately. “Just you and me.”

Something about this statement made her feel as if she had the sun inside her, starlight under her skin, and she wanted nothing more than to keep him there, to stay there with him, safe in his apartment, their own little world. Nothing existed outside of what they had together, outside of what he was giving her, of what she was giving him. It was just the two of them, and she felt as if as long as he was touching her, nothing else ever could.

It was quiet and unprompted when she gasped out, “I love you. I love you, Tim.”

The hand he had on her neck slid up to her cheek, and he leaned down, kissing her with desperation equal to that of his thrusts into her. “I love you, too,” he said against her lips, into her mouth. “More than anything. You’re everything, Lea. Everything.”

She could’ve sworn that the sun inside her shone through at that, and if anyone looked at her, they’d go blind from it. Instead of responding, she wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist, pulling him closer. He let her, allowing her to kiss him as much as she wanted, returning her kiss with fervor. He took her lower lip between his teeth and tugged on it lightly, making her moan and close her eyes.

“No,” he growled when he released her lip. “Look at me. Look at me. I want you to see who’s fucking you, who’s making you feel like this. I don’t want you to ever forget.”

Lea opened her eyes, difficult as it was, and gasped out, “Could never forget you. Love you too much and you feel too good, fuck but you feel so good—“

His lips quirked into a smile against hers. “Yeah?” He kissed her again, the hand on her hip tightening, his fingers digging into her flesh. “Feels good when I give it to you, baby?”

“Mhm,” she whimpered, undulating her hips as best she could despite being seated and pressed up against the window. “More, I want more, please.”

“Such a polite request,” he mused, leaning down to kiss the bruises he’d left on her throat. “You know I’d never refuse you, don’t you? My sweet girl, all mine.”

He gave a particularly harsh thrust at that, and she moaned loudly in delight, her fingernails digging into his shoulders. “‘m yours,” she agreed immediately. “Yours, Tim, all yours— fuck—“

“Good girl,” he groaned, thrusting into her again. “Been waiting all my life for this, sweetheart, all my life for you, for your perfect little pussy, all for me, fuckin’ made for me, baby, made to take this cock.”

Something about what he was saying—babbling, if she were honest—made the heat that was already swirling in her abdomen to grow, intensifying further and spreading throughout her body, a tingling sensation that made her feel like she was burning, like there was fire beneath her skin, in her veins. She was made for him. She was his, she wanted to be his, to belong to him. How could she not, when belonging to him felt so good?

“Fuck, baby,” he groaned, “can I make you cum? I wanna make you cum. I can feel the way you’re clenching around me, I know you want it, I can tell, just let me—“

“Yes,” she cut him off without hesitation. “Yes, you can make me cum, yes yes yes yes yes—“

“Fuck,” Tim grunted, snaking a hand between them to where they were joined and finding her clit with practiced ease. He may not have had much experience with her body specifically, but he knew exactly what to do anyway, how to make her quiver and shake and scream. Plus, by the time he brushed his fingertips over her clit, she was so turned on—by the way he was fucking her, the way he looked when he fucked her, how he was looking at her, the things he said as he pounded into her relentlessly, everything—that his touch had her moaning loudly, her toes curling. She was already so fucking close and he’d barely started stimulating her. “So good for me, sweetheart,” he groaned in her ear. “Give me those pretty little noises, baby, c’mon. Wanna hear you say my name.”

“Tim,” she moaned desperately. “Oh fuck, Tim, I’m gonna— I’m—”

“That’s it,” he encouraged gently, rubbing her clit faster. “Give it to me, Lea. Cum on my cock, wanna feel it.” When she moaned wordlessly—though his name could probably be deciphered if one tried hard enough—and tightened her legs around his waist, her core clenched down on him, and then a few more swipes to her clit combined with punishing thrusts had her bursting apart at the seams.

He fucked her through her orgasm, his eyes such a bright shade of red they almost glowed. Still, once it had ended, he didn’t stop rubbing at her, instead growling into her neck, “I want another. Gimme another, sweetheart.”

Lea’s pulse was thrumming in her clit already, so it wasn’t exactly a difficult feat to manage. He kissed her neck wetly, murmuring words she couldn’t quite hear into her skin. She couldn’t seem to formulate any speech at all, only capable of desperate, high-pitched keens of, “Ah, ah, ah, unh—” over and over again until his touch sent her over the edge a second time.

“Gonna fill you up, baby,” he grunted. “So pretty when you fall apart, gonna fill you with my cum, Lea, fill this sweet little pussy up, love you so much, baby, so fuckin’ much, fuckin’ take it—”

She could do nothing but whimper and cling to him, yearning for him to cum inside her, to fill her exactly as he was promising to.

And then he did, release finding him with an almost pained-sounding moan of her name.

Her head was buzzing, her ears were ringing, and the room—the shower, they were still in the shower—was wobbling. So when he panted against her neck for a few minutes before pulling back to kiss her briefly and step away, she nearly collapsed to the marble tiles of the shower floor.

Tim caught her, pulling her close with one arm and reaching to turn the shower off with the other. “‘s okay, baby,” he murmured, pressing a sweet, gentle kiss to her scalp. “Let’s get you back in bed, okay?”

“O— okay,” she mumbled, her voice sounding groggy even to her own ears.

Tim opened the shower door and grabbed a towel that was hanging on the rod and drying her off, having her lean against the wall as he did so.

Was sex always so exhausting, or was it just her? Maybe it was ‘cause she had no experience prior to him.

He hung the towel back up and took her hand again. “Do you want me to carry you, sweetheart?”

“No,” Lea assured him, horrified at the thought even through her exhaustion. “I can walk.”

“Okay,” he agreed, though he sounded a bit reluctant, “I’m gonna be right here, so fall against me if you need to.”

She hummed in acknowledgment as they made their way out of the bathroom and back to bed. He pulled the covers up over her and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“I’m gonna go make you some food, okay?”

“Mmkay,” she mumbled.

And then she was dead to the world.

Tim’s sweet, gentle voice eased her into wakefulness.

“Lea, sweetheart,” he said, a hand on her shoulder.

“Mmf,” she grunted into the pillow.

“I brought you some food,” he told her. “An omelet with hashbrowns and bacon. Extra crispy, just how you like it.”

The guy knew her well, he really did. But she was so tired.

“You’ll feel much better after you eat,” he promised. “Cmon, baby. Will you sit up for me?”

She groaned, pushing herself up onto her palms. “There you go, sweetheart,” Tim encouraged. “God, you’re so cute when you’re tired.”

“I feel like I shouldn’t be this tired,” she grumbled in annoyance, tucking the blankets under her arms so her chest was covered. “I just woke up a little while ago.”

Tim blushed, settling the tray of food in her lap. “It’s, uh… it’s an incubus thing. You’re tired because I’ve consumed your energy. I’m sorry. I’d avoid it if I could.”

“Oh,” Lea said with a hum, picking up her knife and fork. “It’s okay. If the consequence of you not starving is me being tired, I don’t mind.”

“You’re a fuckin’ saint,” he muttered, sitting down on the bed next to her.

She let out an inelegant snort. “You make me tired and then provide me with food. Not gonna complain about it.”

“I absolutely do not deserve you.”

Lea glanced up at him from her meal. “You literally brought me breakfast in bed.”

“Yeah, but—“

“Don’t care,” she cut him off. “You’re being sweet. No complaints.” She smiled softly at him in reassurance.

He took her hand, holding it tightly in his. “Okay.”

He didn’t let go of her hand the entire time she was eating.

No, really. She really hadn’t meant to stay so long. She’d ended up staying for a month and a half, though. But in her defense, Tim was really sexy, and he was being so wonderful to her, and she loved him so much.

It was hard to reconcile with the fact that all of it was temporary, that she’d have to return to her boring, shoebox apartment and her day job.

And then she missed her period.

But it was nothing to worry about, right? There was no reason for her to be concerned. She was on birth control, had been for years. She’d missed periods before, usually when she was stressed. It was probably the next semester looming over her head.

Tim was ordering some delivery from the grocery store—he rarely went out for such things himself; a privacy concern, he’d said—and asked her if she needed anything.

He knew what sort of food she liked, so that wasn’t a concern. However, even if her period was late, she’d definitely be getting it soon.

“Uh, yeah,” she told him when he asked what she needed. “Some tampons, I think.” She paused. “And some Midol. And a heating pad.”

He blinked, raising his eyebrows in surprise. “Uh… okay, but why?”

She looked at him skeptically. “Why do you think? I’m about to get my period. It’s a little late, so it should be coming any day now.”

He frowned outright at that. “Um, Lea. There’s a reason your period is late.”

She hummed in acknowledgment, hunting through the drawer in his closet he’d temporarily dedicated to her clothes for a fresh pair of panties. “Stress about school, most likely.”

“No,” he said slowly. “It likely won’t be coming at all.”

She paused, turning around to face him. “Why not?”

“Because… because you’re almost certainly pregnant.”

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[imnotoverlyobsessive]

Moodboard by the incredible @softhecreator

Mr. Chalamet

chapter two: more than friendly

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

All my work is 18+.

I fell apart when I got home inside my bed. I can’t think, can’t speak; I can’t move, can’t breathe. This is a white heart heat when you get next to me. When I’m around you, it’s like waking up the dead. My back’s against the wall, oh oh, and I’m feeling the pressure. Yes, I’m about to fall, oh oh. What I’m feeling, it’s torture. It’s unavoidable. You are a magnet, it’s unavoidable. I am metallic, so do what you do, do what you do to me.- Neon Trees, Unavoidable

It may have been strange, but Mr. Chalamet was Lea’s first male friend. If one could call one’s friend’s dad one’s own friend, that is. Which he certainly acted like one with her.

He was so nice. So ridiculously nice. He’d finished filming recently, so he’d be home for awhile, he had told her.

She spent a great deal of time over at their house, which, realistically speaking, who could blame her, really? It had a movie theater, for god’s sake.

Lea had become strangely comfortable with Mr. Chalamet, too. He was always so kind to her. And he was funny. Elle was forever teasing him for his jokes, but Lea thought they were hilarious. He seemed to revel in making her laugh, always smiling when he managed it. They’d become texting buddies (he’d offered to give her his motherfucking phone number), and he’d even invited her to follow his finsta and Snapchat, frequently sending her pictures and videos on the latter— sometimes in a group, sometimes just for her. He texted her memes and asked her how school was going. He expressed concerns about his job. They were friends, and it was weird.

She stared at him sometimes. She couldn’t help it. In her defense, though, he was so attractive it was downright obscene. He was a walking, talking orgasm, basically. 

But one evening, he did something… so ridiculously, unbelievably sweet.

Lea had fallen asleep on the couch after a movie, and he had carried her up to the guest bedroom she slept in whenever she visited. He’d even tucked her in. He’d stayed for nearly thirty seconds—she had counted—before walking away. Her counting had pulled her almost entirely back to sleep, and his actions had fueled her dreams that night. She dreamt of him getting in bed next to her and holding her close.

It was after this that she sat down and made a list. 

List Of Reasons Why I Absolutely Cannot Fall In Love With Timothée Chalamet 

1. He’s married. 

2. His wife is Lourdes Leon, Madonna’s daughter.

3. He’s sixteen years older than me. 

4. I’m friends with his daughter.

5. His daughter (my friend!) has been alive for almost the same number of years he is older than I am.

6. He’s a huge celebrity. I am a nobody.

7. He clearly likes skinny girls. I am fat. He must think I'm disgusting. 

8. He sees me as a kid, not a woman. He will never see me as a woman. 

9. Even if he did, though, he still has to kiss and pretend to have sex with other women for work. He has to pretend to be in love with them. I’m jealous just thinking about it. 

10. He’d never want me. Not in a million years. 

And that was that. She put it from her mind. 

Or tried to, anyway. It didn’t work. By the end of the semester, she knew it for certain: she was falling in love with him. It was inevitable. Perhaps it always had been. 

So Lea did the only thing she could think of to do. As soon as the new semester started up and she and Elle were in Cinema Studies 2—this time they’d been able to request they be partners, although Lea hadn’t been able to think of a good excuse not to, plus she didn’t want to hurt her friend’s feelings—, she avoided him like he had rabies and was likely to infect her if she got too close. She wouldn’t spend the night anymore, and she didn’t watch movies with him anymore. He would sometimes come in and sit down while she and Elle watched a movie, but Lea was always sure to leave immediately. She was terrified that being around him, looking at him, hearing his voice— all of it would make her feelings so much worse.

Her twentieth birthday had come and gone, and he texted her for it. She thanked him, but otherwise didn’t speak to him hardly at all. And yet she daydreamed sometimes about what it would be like if he wanted her, too. If he wasn’t with someone else, if she wasn’t too young for him, no good for him. If he saw her the way she saw him.

Elle slept over at her and Sam’s apartment one evening.

“You’ve been sadder lately,” Elle said quietly into the darkness of Lea’s bedroom. “Are you okay?”

Lea hadn’t intended to fill Elle in on this particular development, but, well. The younger girl was too perceptive, and she knew her friend’s mannerisms too well by that point not to pick up on the change.

“I’m fine,” Lea assured her, “I just…” she trailed off with a sigh. “I like someone. A lot.”

“Ommigod!” Elle squealed, shooting bolt upright from her sleeping bag on the floor. “Who is he?!”

Lea was silent for a moment. “Someone unavailable,” she finally confessed, her voice quiet. “Someone who wouldn’t look twice at me in a million years.”

“Unavailable how?”

“He’s married,” Lea explained.

“Ohhhhhhhh,” Elle said. “Yeah, that would pose a problem. What’re you gonna do?”

“Nothing,” Lea said quickly. “I’m just gonna avoid him so it doesn’t get worse.”

“Why avoid him?”

“He’s really nice to me,” Lea admitted. “It sucks ‘cause I like hanging out with him, but if I keep doing it, I’m gonna end up falling in love with him, I think, and I don’t want to. He’s really smart, so he’d probably figure it out or something, and I don’t want him to be uncomfortable. I don’t want to make things weird.”

“You know what you should do,” Elle started, “is ask my dad for advice. He’s really insightful.”

“I know,” Lea agreed, “but I don’t wanna ask him, really. It’d be weird.”

“Why would it be weird?” Elle asked in surprise.

Because it’s him I’m falling for, she thought. What she said, however, was, “I don’t talk to, y’know. Guys. Especially not about feelings and whatnot.”

“He’s not a guy,” Elle laughed. “He’s my dad.”

“He’s still a guy, dude.”

“If you say so.”

“You won’t, uh…” Lea gulped nervously. “You won’t tell him, will you?” She quickly amended with, “Or— or anybody else, I mean?”

“Nah,” Elle assured her. “Of course not. Not unless you want me to. I do really think my dad could help, though. He gives great advice.“

Lea stared at the ceiling even though she couldn’t see anything.

“I’m sure he does.”

They were cramming for school, which, for Cinema Studies, meant their final project. Lea was subsequently over at their house a great deal.

It was Friday evening, and they’d just eaten a very late dinner. Mr. Chalamet had made it. Which, yeah, he could cook. Swoon.

“I’m gonna take a shower and pass out,” Elle decided. “Lea, are you staying or going home?”

“I should head home,” she said immediately. Perhaps a bit too quickly, in fact. 

“In this rain?” Mr. Chalamet asked as Elle walked off. “Are you sure?”

“Uh… yeah,” she gulped anxiously, not looking at him. This was made easier when her phone buzzed as a completely irrelevant notification came through. “Oh, my ride's here.” She didn’t have a ride, but he didn’t have to know that.

“Do you have an umbrella?” he asked. 

“Yeah,” she lied. “My purse is waterproof, too, so.” That, at least, was true. Her phone and wallet would be safe, even in the rain. It was fine.

Mr. Chalamet seemed skeptical, but let her leave without further questions.

Lea didn’t have a ride, though. She didn’t even have a raincoat. This was unfortunate, because she had to walk all the way off the Chalamet estate to the street and down to the subway.

Her hair was soaked (as was the rest of her) within minutes, and she knew she’d have a hell of a time stopping the frizz when she got home. She wondered what time it was. When she’d left, it had been just after eleven, what with how late she and Elle had been working. Mr. Chalamet had looked so gorgeous that evening that it had actually been painful to look at him. And he was so kind, making dinner for her and Elle, wanting to make sure she got home safely. 

She was musing about it as she walked down the sidewalk not far from the Chalamets’, a car she recognized all too well pulling up against the curb. 

She glanced at it, and, to her horror, Mr. Chalamet himself had cracked the window so he could speak to her without the rain getting in.

“Lea?” he asked, concern lacing his voice. “What’re you doing here?”

“I’m, uh…” She gulped anxiously. “I’m going to the subway.”

“I thought you said you had a ride.”

“They had to cancel last minute,” she quickly lied. 

He pursed his lips. “Uh huh. Okay, I’ll take you home. C’mon.”

Lea’s eyes widened, and she shook her head rapidly. “N— no thank you,” she stuttered. “I’m fine taking the subway.”

“Not in this rain,” Mr. Chalamet insisted, “and definitely not this late at night. Get in the car.”

“No, really,” she assured him, “I’m fine. But thank you.”

“Lea,” he started, his voice slow and deliberate, “I am not letting you walk around the city alone in the rain at 11:45 at night. No way in hell.” When she hesitated further, contemplating how to refuse him in a way he’d accept, he added, “Get. In. The. Fucking. Car.”

She did. 

He started down the road, and she stared out the window, watching rain. His car smelled like him, and with him so close to her…

Well. She just needed to pretend she was somewhere else.

“You didn’t have a ride home, did you?” Mr. Chalamet asked, sounding displeased. “Or an umbrella, apparently.”

She didn’t respond. He’d made her get in the car, and she couldn’t bear to talk to him. She was soaking wet, and somehow, that made her feel exposed. Vulnerable. Her mom had been vulnerable to her dad. That was why he’d been able to beat her. It was why she no longer had a dad, why she’d never grown up around boys. There was no danger of that with Mr. Chalamet for a whole host of reasons, of course, but the point was, vulnerability led to disaster. 

“Why did you lie to me, Lea?” he asked instead. “I get the feeling you’ve been lying to me, not to mention avoiding me. Why?”

She tensed. He was going to make things even more difficult for her, wasn’t he?

When she didn’t answer, didn’t even look at him, he let out a sigh of frustration. “Fine.”

All of a sudden, they had turned around and were going the opposite direction of her apartment.

Trying to figure out what he was trying to pull, Lea finally turned to look at him. “My apartment is the other way,” she pointed out.

“I know.” His fingers were tight on the steering wheel. 

He didn’t say anything else, and next thing she knew, they were in front of his house again. He got out, opening an umbrella as he did so. She flinched as the rain started to hit her skin again.

He rushed around to the other side to hold the umbrella over them both. Normally, she’d have smiled up at him and thanked him. This time, though, she marched right past him.

He hurried after her, and soon enough, she was dripping onto his fancy marble floors.

“What is with you?” Mr. Chalamet demanded.

She didn’t answer. She was gonna wait until she was dry enough to not damage her phone, and then she was gonna call an Uber.

“Alright then,” he decided, dropping his keys on the entryway table and grabbing her hand. “C’mon.”

“What—“ she started, thrown off by this turn of events.

“Do not argue with me, Lea,” he said sharply. “I’m not in the mood.”

Mr. Chalamet never got upset. She had never seen him snap or lose his temper, not once. It was… startling, to say the least. So she followed him, allowing him to pull her up the stairs and… into his bedroom?

They walked beneath an archway and then through a set of painted French doors, and then they were in his room. It was huge— vaulted ceilings, a TV above a carved fireplace, a sunroom in the corner that was separated from the rest of the bedroom by columns, a king sized bed with the covers unmade. 

That’s where he sleeps, she thought in a daze. He sleeps there. He sleeps there.

They passed a cabinet and counter with a mini fridge and coffee machine before going through another set of French doors and past a large, elaborate vanity that was built into the wall. He let go of her hand once they were between two huge walk-in closets, and he strode into the one on the right. Within a few seconds, he had re-emerged carrying a long-sleeve shirt and pair of sweatpants.

Mr. Chalamet grabbed her hand again and pulled her through a third set of French doors. “Stay there,” he commanded sharply as he let go of her hand again to rifle through some sort of small closet that was built into the wall. 

As he did, she took in the bathroom she now stood in. Marble floors, a huge walk-in shower with a seat—also made of marble, and with a large circular mirror inside—a large double vanity, columns around the ginormous tub that was more of a jacuzzi, all elaborately carved. There was even a fireplace with a mirror—and fuck, a small statue in front of the mirror—and a set of doors to a balcony with a table and chair set.

He marched past her and plopped the clothes as well towels he’d retrieved onto a long stool that sat in front of the tub. “Shower,” he ordered, “or take a bath. I don’t care. Just get out of those wet clothes and warm up. I’ll be outside until you’re done.”

“I… I need to brush my hair whenever I bathe,” she told him, her voice soft and hesitant. “It frizzes up really bad if I don’t.”

“I know.” He pointed at the shower seat. “I have curly hair, too, you realize. There’s a brush in the shower for that exact reason. You can use it.”

Lea nodded. He left then, closing the doors behind him. She hastened to lock them, looking around the room anxiously.

She showered, noting that the conditioner—which must’ve been obscenely expensive—was for curly hair. Did he have trouble taming his, too?

The towels were soft, and the clothes were warm. She squeezed out her bra and panties, not wanting him to see them, or see her without a bra.

When she exited the bathroom, Mr. Chalamet was sitting in a chair by the fireplace. She crossed her arms over her stomach, curling her toes in the sweatpants (they fell well past her feet and were essentially socks).

His lips quirked slightly when he saw her. “Feel better?” She stared at her feet in silence, and he sighed. “C’mon,” he told her, “we should sit in the living room.”

Lea didn’t see why, but she wasn’t about to argue with him. She didn’t understand his need to take care of her, really. Must’ve been a dad thing. 

Further confirmation he sees you as a child, she told herself glumly. I told you he’d never see you as anything but that. It seems like he sees you as a daughter, even. Ugh.

She let him take her downstairs and into the living room, and she was soon sitting on the couch with him in a chair across from her. She stared up at the balcony behind him; the chandelier and vaulted ceilings, elaborately carved like the rest of the house.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” he finally said. It wasn’t a question. It was a statement of fact. “You’ve been lying to me, too. Tell me why.”

She stared at her hands in her lap, where her fingertips were peeking through the hemline of the sleeves off the shirt he’d given her. “With all due respect, Mr. Chalamet, what I do is none of your business.”

“I thought we were friends,” he told her quietly, a smile in his voice.

She exhaled sharply. “You’re my friend’s dad.”

“That doesn’t mean we can’t be friends also,” he insisted. “I see you as a friend. Don’t you see me as one, too?”

She crossed her arms over her stomach protectively. Maybe she wouldn’t spill her guts, pour her heart out to him, if she could hold herself together. “I dunno,” she sighed. “It’s… weird.”

He stood, and she watched his sock-clad feet come into view before the couch dipped beneath his weight. He was close, but not close enough to appear more than friendly. “Why is it weird?” he asked her, his voice gentle. Kind. He was always so goddamn nice.

Finally, the prickling of his gaze on her skin was too much. She looked up at him, into his eyes, and…

And she couldn’t take it, couldn’t keep it in. She burst into tears, the emotions bursting out of her like water from a collapsed dam.

Cupping her face with her hands so he wouldn’t see her cry, Lea sobbed as quietly as she could until she felt herself pulled towards him and warm arms around her. 

“Shh,” he hushed softly, rubbing her back as she wept. “It’s alright. I’ve got you, Lea. It’s okay.” 

She couldn’t stop herself from burying her face in his shoulder. It felt so good to be held by him, to have his arms around her. It was everything she’d ever dreamed of except better, a billion times better.

Lea cried for a few more minutes before coming back to herself. As soon as she did, she put her hands on his shoulders and pushed away from him. Or tried to, anyway. She couldn’t get very far with his arms still around her. “Sorry,” she muttered, still trying to pull away. “I didn’t mean to.”

“Hey,” Mr. Chalamet said gently, cupping her cheek and lifting her face up towards him so she couldn’t help but look at him, “it’s alright. Really. I want to be there for you, sweetheart.”

“You shouldn’t call me that,” she breathed, certain that he shouldn’t call her such things because of the way it made her stomach flutter.

He stroked her cheek with his thumb. “It’s what you are to me.”

“I shouldn’t be.” She assumed he saw her as a daughter, and, well, he should see her platonically, of course, but she couldn’t bear for him to look at her the way a father looked at his daughter. She’d rather he look at her as a friend, no matter how painful that was. Or, hell, even a stranger was better than his daughter. Better than a child.

“But you are,” he murmured. His gaze found her lips, and she stopped breathing. “You’re probably right. You probably shouldn’t be. But you are, and I don’t care anymore. Push me away, slap me if you have to, but I can’t stop myself. I want this with you too badly. I’m sorry.”

“What are you—“ She didn’t even get to finish her question before his lips were on hers.

Lea was frozen. Her lungs wouldn’t work, couldn’t work. And then her brain processed what was happening. He was kissing her. Mr. Chalamet was kissing her, his lips moving gently over hers, his hand migrating from her cheek into her wet hair. 

She whimpered softly, closing her eyes and shifting closer to him. He groaned when he felt her respond, clenching his hand in her hair, his arm tightening around her waist. Their kiss deepened, becoming desperate and hungry, and he sucked her tongue into his mouth, moaning as he did so.

She knew it was wrong, knew he was no good for her, that she was no good for him, but she couldn’t stop herself, couldn’t help how desperately she needed him.

She slid her hands up from his shoulders into his hair and tried to move her lips over his the way he was doing with her, and he moaned again, trailing kisses over her jaw and down her throat. “You’re so beautiful,” Mr. Chalamet said against her skin. “God, why didn’t you push me away? You should hate me now. You should find me repulsive, think I’m a gross old man—“

“A what?” she laughed breathlessly. “Are you serious?”

“I’m way too old to want you this way.” He slid his hand down to the base of her spine, almost on her ass, but not quite. She wondered if he wanted to touch her there. She wished he would. She wished he’d touch her everywhere. “I shouldn’t look at you the way I do.”

“How do you look at me?” Lea asked breathily as he continued to kiss her neck. “I thought you saw me as a child.”

He chuckled a bit, the hand on her back bunching up in the fabric of the shirt she wore. “But you’re not one, are you?” he breathed. “You’re a fully grown woman.” His fingers slipped beneath the hemline of the shirt, brushing against the bare skin of her lower back. “God, are you ever.”

“What do you mean?” she asked, having a theory she couldn’t quite voice and hoping she was right.

“You’re of age,” Mr. Chalamet began, “and your body is…” he trailed off momentarily before clearing his throat. “Well. You’re an adult, and you look it.”

“You like the way I look?” she asked hesitantly.

“Fuck yes I do,” he growled. “I don’t wanna freak you out, but you are insanely sexy. Kiss me again, sweetheart. Please.”

“If that’s what you want,” she breathed, pressing her mouth to his again.

“I’ve spent a lot of time imagining this,” Mr. Chalamet confessed. “Thinking about your lips on mine.”

“You— you have?”

“God, yes.” He pulled her closer by the waist. “I can’t get you out of my head. Ever since I first saw you, I wanted to know what you’d taste like, what you’d feel like. What sounds you’d make if I touched you the way I really want to.”

“How do you want to touch me?” she wanted to know. “I… I’ve never… I mean, that was my first kiss, so…”

“It was?” he asked, sounding surprised. “I can’t believe I got to have that. But— I want to touch you however you'll let me. I want things with you—I want to do things to you—that might scare you, and that’s the last thing I want, is to scare you off.”

“You could never scare me off,” she assured him. “Please tell me how you see me. I want to know.”

“Like a fucking goddess,” he growled, kissing her neck again. “Aphrodite come to Earth. I’d worship you if you let me.”

Lea wrapped her arms around his neck, wanting to be closer to him, impossibly closer. “Mr. Chalamet, I—“

“Use my name, darling,” he interjected, running his hands up and down her sides, almost brushing her breasts. “I want to hear you say it. I want to hear you moan it.”

She hesitated, but he was kissing her neck, and it felt so good. He felt so good. “Timothée,” she exhaled softly.

“Fuck,” he groaned, sucking her skin gently, not quite hard enough to leave a mark. “Again, angel. Please. Say it again.”

“Oh, Timothée—“

“I wanna hold you,” he gasped. “I wanna touch you, feel your skin against mine—“

“Yes,” Lea whimpered. “Yes, Timothée, please touch me, I want that, I want that so bad—“

“Fuckin’ love hearing you say my name, baby,” he growled. “Never call me Mr. Chalamet again, you got that?”

“Whatever you want,” she promised, kissing him hungrily.

“This is why you’ve been lying to me, isn’t it?” Mr. Chalamet—no, Timothée, he wanted her to call him Timothée—asked. “Why you’ve been avoiding me, won’t look at me.”

She buried her face in his neck in response. “I’m sorry. I never meant to feel this way about you. It was an accident.”

“I didn’t mean to feel this way about you, either,” he confessed, “but that doesn’t mean I’m not happy I do, that you feel the same way about me.”

“I tried to hide it,” Lea admitted, “but I’ve never liked anybody before, so I don’t think I was very good at it.”

“No,” he chuckled with a slight shake of his head. “No, you weren’t. I suspected—or hoped, rather—that that was what was going on, but I wasn’t sure. I’m so glad I was right.” After a moment, he said, “Kiss me again, Lea. I need you to kiss me again.”

She was leaning in to do just that when there were footsteps on the stairs. Jumping away from him like a kid caught with their hand in a cookie jar, she panted heavily.

“What’re you guys doing?” Elle asked when she saw them.

There was silence for a few tense beats. “I was just about to take Lea home,” Tim—she got to think of him as that now!—finally said. “She’s not feeling well.”

“Oh, shit,” Elle muttered. “You okay? Why’re you wearing Dad’s clothes?”

“She got sick while still wearing her clothes,” he explained. “Do you need something?”

“Just a snack,” Elle said, strolling towards the kitchen. “See you later, Lea. Hope you feel better.”

“T— thanks,” Lea stuttered back, feeling very much like she’d just committed treasonous levels of betrayal.

“C’mon,” Tim told her gently, pulling her up and leading her towards the door.

She was in a daze on the drive to her apartment, trying to process what had happened.

He’d kissed her. He’d told her he liked her, wanted her, couldn’t stop thinking about her.

What the fuck?

He stopped in front of her building, pulling off to the curb. “The rain has stopped enough for you to walk in without an umbrella,” he observed.

“Yeah,” she agreed softly, staring at her hands in her lap. “Thanks for driving me home, Mr. Chalamet.”

“Why are you calling me that again?” he wanted to know. “I thought we agreed you wouldn’t anymore, now that we’re…” he trailed off.

Lea clutched the fabric of the sweatpants he’d given her. “We can’t do that again,” she informed him shakily. “I’m sorry. We can’t. I’ll see you later.”

He objected, saying her name, but she was already getting out of the car.

She curled up in a ball when she got to bed, crying until her eyes were raw.

Aaaaaaaa I’m sorry I’m sorry I promise it has a happy ending

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