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Brownie

"My Little Cocoa Bean" series

Summary: A stray pup finds his fur-ever home with the Wonka family. Ben/Bean is 7, and Charlotte/Charlie is 3.

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If the weekend weather was favorable, the Wonka family could be found in the park. Today was no exception. The four of you were walking down a gravel pathway, Willy walking backward so he could talk to you, Ben, and Charlotte about his latest invention. Ever the animated talker, he was using his hands and jumping around until a shrill yelp startled him as he stepped down near a bush.

"Did that bush just...yelp?" you asked curiously and held the children back from investigating. Willy got down on all fours to peer under the limbs. There, he spied a little brown furball cowering by the trunk.

"Well, hello there, little fella. Did I accidentally step on your tail? I'm sorry," he cooed. Willy reached into the bush and pulled a trembling puppy to his chest. He sat back on his feet so the family could see and was instantly crowded by Ben and Charlotte, who wanted a better look at the tiny animal.

"A puppy!" Charlotte cheered. You chided her to lower her voice so as to not frighten him further.

"Can we keep him?" Ben pleaded as he scratched under the pup's chin.

Willy didn't say anything, but he looked up at you with the same doe eyes and pouty lip as your children. Real helpful, dear, you thought.

"We really ought to make sure he doesn't belong to someone else first. But we can keep him safe in the meantime," you replied. "When we get back to town, we'll put up a notice in the square for a week. If nobody comes for him, then he can stay with us for good."

Willy stood and handed the pup to you, and of course you fell in love immediately, especially when he snuggled up to your chest. While you had to put up a responsible front, you secretly hoped that nobody would claim him. He was adorable, with one flopped ear and patches of white on his chest and feet. He looked like he had been dipped in chocolate - a perfect fit for your family.

You all took turns holding the puppy on your route home, first making a detour by the bulletin board in the downtown square. He scurried under the sofa when you first arrived at the house but quickly warmed up to Ben and Charlotte. He even licked the girl's face when she hung down from the couch to peer underneath. Her giggles eventually drew him out to play. The kids took great delight in watching him explore the house.

"I think we should name him..." Ben started to say. You quickly interrupted.

"No, no names until he's officially ours. Otherwise, you'll get attached." Too late, you thought to yourself. You knelt down to make eye contact with both of your children. "Now, I need you to understand that taking care of an animal is a big responsibility. He's more than just a toy to play with. He will be completely dependent on us for food, water, and clean bedding. The two of you will have to pick up after him, even if he's only with us for a little while."

"Charlie and I can handle it!" Ben piped up.

"Yeah!" Charlotte agreed.

"Great. I'm going to hold you to that. Now, let's see what we can find for him to eat." You stood and walked to the kitchen. You looked through the cabinets and refrigerator before deciding to mash up last night's leftovers and soften it up with some milk. The pup scarfed it down like he hadn't eaten in days. This brought on a new burst of energy, so the children took him outside to run off his zoomies (and theirs).

Willy made lunch while you kept an eye on the trio and joined in on their game of chase. He called you all in once the food was ready. The pup quickly learned that Charlotte was the one most likely to drop crumbs, both intentionally and unintentionally, so he settled beneath her chair. You were amazed when there was nothing to sweep up after the meal was done.

The kids took the puppy to the playroom while you and Willy cleaned up the kitchen and washed the dishes. You heard giggling, talking, and sounds of toys clanking for a little bit, but then everything grew quiet. You looked over at Willy who had picked up on it, too. It wasn't unusual for Ben to be quiet. But Charlotte? Both of you were wary. Willy smirked. "Go check it out. I'll finish up here," he said.

You dried your hands and made your way to the playroom. You put your ear to the door but still heard nothing. You quietly opened it and drew on all your strength not to squeal over the cuteness.

Ben was leaning against the wall asleep, head lolled to the side. Charlotte looked like she passed out on the rug mid-play. The puppy was laying on his belly between the two of them, eyes closed and all four legs stretched out in a sploot. It was a precious sight.

Willy came up behind you, set a hand on your hip and his chin on your head. He took in the scene and quietly chuckled. "They sat still too long," he whispered. The pup's ears twitched at his voice, but sensing no threat, he quickly dozed back off. You gently pulled the door to so they could continue to nap in peace.

Ben awoke before Charlotte about half an hour later and snuck out of the playroom with the puppy. He found you and Willy in the study.

"Hey, Bean. Sleep well?" Willy looked up from his newspaper and teased. Ben narrowed his eyes at his father in jest before turning his focus back to the puppy in his arms. He had declared years earlier that he was too old for naps now.

"Can you take the pup outside so he can stretch and take care of business?" you asked. He nodded and made his way to the back door. With the fenced-in back yard, you were comfortable letting your son learn responsibility and take care of this task on his own.

Then you heard Charlotte cry. Willy was up and out of the room before you could even react. His long legs made quicker work of getting across the house anyway.

Willy opened the playroom door to find Charlotte sitting up on the rug. She looked disoriented, looking around wildly with her tangled hair and tear-streaked face. Willy sat down beside the girl and scooped her up into his lap.

"Shhh, baby girl. I've got you. What's wrong?" he asked while rocking her.

Sobs wracked her tiny body. "The puppy is gone! Someone t-took h-him h-home!"

"Oh, no, Charlie. He's just outside with your brother. He woke up before you."

"Pwomise?"

"I pinky promise. And that's the most solemn vow there is!" He held up his pinky for Charlotte to link with hers, then kissed her on the head. "Come on, I'll take you outside to show you."

Willy reappeared briefly in the study with Charlotte on his hip. She laid her forehead in the crook of his neck and occasionally took shuddered breath as she calmed down. "I'm going to take her outside to see the puppy."

Ah, she must have been upset about the dog. She will be devastated if someone does claim him. But doing what is right isn't always easy, you reminded yourself. Soon, you heard the girl's cheerful laughter ringing throughout the yard. All was right in her world again.

The rest of the evening was uneventful. You started dinner and called your family inside when the food was ready. The dog took up his previous station under Charlotte's chair, but this time you also provided him with his own bowls of food and water on the floor.

"I'll stop by the store on my way home tomorrow for some supplies and food for him," Willy offered. "I'll also ask around if anyone is missing a pup." Ben and Charlotte both pouted. You and Willy exchanged knowing looks.

The family finished up dinner in relative silence and set about their nightly routines to get ready for bed.

"Where will he sleep tonight?" Ben asked as he rubbed the pup's belly.

"We'll set up a box for him in the kitchen with a warm blanket," you replied.

"The kitchen?" Willy asked.

"Well, yes. That way if he makes a mess it's easier to clean up. Why?"

"No, that makes sense. I...I just think he may get a little lonely is all."

"I think some separation will be good so we don't get too attached. Not yet," you replied, mainly for your own benefit.

Willy kissed you on the forehead. "Always the voice of reason. Alright kids, time to brush teeth and go to bed. Bean, you get to pick the story tonight." His voice faded as he herded the children down the hallway.

You dug out a wooden crate out of the storage room and placed a cozy blanket inside. You picked up the pup, gave him a snuggle and a good scratch behind the ears, and laid him in the crate. You gently pet him on the head until his eyes closed, then off you went to bed.

A couple of hours later, you were awakened by pitiful whimpering. You laid in bed for a few moments in hopes that the puppy would settle on his own, but you had no such luck. You grumbled as you sat up. *Just like taking care of a baby again.*

You put on your robe and tiptoed to the kitchen so as to not wake the others. Upon turning on the light, you saw the pup looking up at you, wagging his tail and whining.

"Hey there. What's all this about, hmm?" Gently you picked him up and he licked your face in return. You suspected he was just lonesome, but you went through a mental list of all his other potential needs as well. First was a trip outside in case he needed to potty. He romped around and barked, bowing at you to get you to play.

You tsked at him. "Shh, no, this is not time for play. Go take care of your business." The pup conceded, though he got distracted a few times by sniffing around the yard. You brought him back inside and set him up with a little more soft food and water in the crate. After a few reassuring pets, you stood to exit the kitchen and go back to bed.

He instantly took up whimpering again.

"Now, now, shhh. Let's not wake the family." You sat back down by the crate and encouraged him to lay down, fluffing up the blanket around him. You got back up once you thought he was settled again, just to be rewarded with more whimpering. So you sat down again with a huff.

<about three hours later>

Willy shuffled into the kitchen in his pajamas when he discovered you were no longer in bed. He stifled a laugh when he found you in a similar state to your son earlier in the playroom.

You had fallen asleep sitting up against the kitchen cabinet beside the crate with your head lolled to the side. The puppy was asleep, too...

...in your lap.

"Separation, huh?" he playfully mocked. "She's going to be sore in the morning if she stays like that," he muttered to himself. He knelt down and gently shook your shoulder.

"Hey, my sweet. Wake up."

You blinked and squinted in response to the kitchen light you had left on. You looked around then down in your lap at the sleeping furball. You realized you caved and coddled him out of desperation.

"He finally fell asleep. The poor dear was whimpering pitifully. I gave him food and water, even let him outside, but he would whine anytime I stood to leave. You were right. He got lonely."

"He might just be sad that dogs can't have chocolate," Willy said with a deadpan face and serious tone. You cut your eyes at him and tried to act surly, as this was no time to joke, but you couldn't help but laugh softly. He broke out into a childish grin.

"I've never slept well on the first night in a new place," he continued. "Especially if it was too quiet. There was always background noise on the ship." You could tell an idea struck him when his face lit up. "I'll be right back!"

Willy scurried out of the room and returned just as quickly with a wind-up clock in hand. "I read about this once," he said with hushed excitement as he sat down in front of you and the crate. "You place it near their bed at night to comfort them. The rhythm reminds them of...of their mother's heartbeat." His excitement dimmed as he looked down at the pup, though you knew his thoughts were elsewhere. You leaned forward to squeeze his hand.

"Do you think we should bring his crate to our room?" you asked hesitantly after a few moments.

Willy nodded fervently. "He is just a baby, after all. We kept our other babies close at first."

"Willy. He's not a *human* baby. And he's not ours. Not yet."

"Maybe not. But will it hurt to treat him like family while he's here?" he asked with a pout.

"It may hurt us later if he has to leave."

"True, but we will cross that bridge if it gets here. Make the most of now. Besides, you risk closing yourself off from the world entirely if you avoid attachments to anyone or anything that may leave."

"So wise at two in the morning," you chuckled and shook your head.

"I have my moments." He smiled as he carefully picked the puppy up from your lap and offered his hand to help you up. You picked up the crate and clock and returned to your room. You sank into your bed with a sigh as Willy got the pup settled in the crate on his side. Ever the doting father, you thought happily. Soon, everyone was asleep again.

The days went by and you only received one inquiry about the pup. Sadly for them, the description of their missing dog didn't match, but it was difficult to keep the joy out of your voice. He quickly became embedded in your daily routine, as if he had been part of the family all along. He was Charlotte's shadow by day and Ben's in the evening when he returned home. Once the children went to bed, he would lay his head on your lap as you and Willy cozied up by the fire. You counted down the days until you could claim the pup. It would break your heart to see him go now, especially now that he was letting you sleep through the night again.

<one week after the walk in the park>

You and Willy called the children to the study. "Alright, kids. The puppy is officially ours! Now we can name him," you announced excitedly. Ben and Charlotte jumped up and down while the pup bounced around and barked.

"Anything but Tiddles, please," Willy supplied.

"Well, I think he looks like he's dipped in chocolate, but Fondue just doesn't sound right," you replied. "Maybe Biscuit, like the storybooks?"

"What about Brownie?" Ben asked and looked around at everyone. The puppy barked. "I think he likes it!"

"Bwowneeeeeee!" Charlotte squealed.

"That has a nice ring to it," Willy agreed as he pulled a collar out of his pocket and placed it around the puppy's neck. "Welcome to the family, Brownie!"

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Masterlist

I would absolutely die to see more of Paul x wife!reader from a Tiny Miracle 🫶🏼 it was so lovely, thank you!

Author's Note: Glad you liked it! 🥰 I plan on writing more little blurbs like this that go along with A Tiny Miracle. 🫶🏻

Warnings: Not entirely canon-centric, mostly fluff, mentions of breastfeeding an infant

After the duel, the Fremen look after their Lisan al Gaib, treating his wounds and plying his torso with bandages. He wolfs down food and water, his appetite ravenous.

You had been on the verge of losing the contents of your own stomach when Feyd-Rautha had stabbed Paul. But while there there had pain in your husband's eyes, there was no fear. He stood at the ready.

He never looked more powerful to you than in that moment. Even the image of thousands of Fremen shouting his name in unison as he called them to war didn't compare.

Muad'Dib! Muad'Dib! Muad'Dib!

"Hey."

You murmur a noise of acknowledgment at your husband as he trails his fingers absently along your leg, covered by your slip and a thin muslin bedsheet. You're sitting up in bed, in the castle of Arrakeen, feeding your daughter. He lays on his side, peering up at the two of you with nothing but adoration in his face.

"I'm here," He says softly. "Not out there."

You sigh and nod, reaching to grasp his fingers. "I know. It's just been...a lot."

"There's more to come," He warns, eyes becoming unfocused. "Not today, but soon. And you can handle it, I know you can."

The prospect of him being able to forsee the future is still slightly unnerving but while you don't know all the details of it, you trust his judgment.

"Promise?" You ask softly.

He smiles and sits up, kissing your temple and looking at the baby. He stretches his pinky out and she grasps it with her tiny hand in a death grip. "I swear."

You nuzzle your face against his like a great big cat, feeling protective since his duel.

"She's so beautiful, isn't she?" You coo as the baby detaches from your nipple, her belly full and her eyes drooping. You adjust the strap of your slip back in place as you burp her, firm but gentle pats putting her to sleep.

"She gets it from her mother," Paul murmurs, eyes gleaming as you shoot him a look, making him snicker.

"The day you learn to take a compliment should be marked as a holy day."

"Oh, stop it." You chide half-heartedly, though you feel your heart squeeze with affection. "I've decided on a name."

"Tell me." His voice is laced with amusement as he watches you get up. He told you earlier he'd get you whatever you or the baby needed and he'd help you with caring for her, but clearly that was a losing battle.

"Yianna." You place her in the bassinet close by, easing back into bed. "I asked Jessica if she recalled any names from Leto's—well, your family tree. We thought the name of your great-grandmother seemed lovely."

All the documents and holophotography in the castle pertaining to House Atreides had been destroyed in the castle, so anything Paul and Jessica remembered about their house would have to suffice until he could access the Bene-Geserit's library.

It didn't matter, really. Everything he needed now was here, with him. His wife, his daughter. He had no need or desire to look through his family's past.

"It is lovely." He kisses your bare shoulder once you settle back under the sheets. "My father used to talk about her. He said she was always sneaking him sweets when his mother wasn't looking. She died when he was young."

The smile you grace him with is sad. "I would've loved to have met Leto."

"He would've adored you." Paul notes, pulling you closer. "He loved the arts. Could talk for hours about it."

You think about the man you've only seen from a half-charred portrait and wonder what it would have been like, seated at a table across from your father and mother-in-law, your hand clasped by their son and womb heavy with their grandchild.

Your own paradise. You dream of it as you curl up next to Paul, careful to not put much weight on his side wound. The sound of his steady heartbeat and the random gurgle of Yianna puts you to sleep.

Bottled Up

"My Little Cocoa Bean" Series

Summary: Ben/Bean (age 12) battles a bout of nerves before the school play. Willy tries to get his mind off of things.

A/N: See if you can spot the reference to Dune Part 1.

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You were preparing dinner in the kitchen when you heard the front door fly open and fast, erratic footsteps echo throughout the house. "Mamma?!" you heard Ben shout.

His loud, brazen entrance startled you. You were glad that you had already finished chopping up the vegetables and put away the knife, or else you may have accidentally cut yourself when you jumped. "In the kitchen, dear," you called back.

Ben sprinted through the kitchen door, nearly sliding into the table in his rush. "Mamma, Mamma! I got the part! I got the part of Peter Pan!" he exclaimed.

"Oh, Ben! That's fantastic!" You jumped up and down and clapped your hands with glee. "I'm so proud of you! All of those hours of practicing paid off." You wiped your hands on your apron (and the tears from your eyes) before wrapping him in a big hug. At just twelve years old, you and he nearly saw eye to eye. He was going to be tall and lanky like his father, who arrived at the house a couple of minutes behind Ben. The boy had apparently run ahead after he visited the chocolate factory after school, eager to share his news.

"There's my thespian!" Willy announced proudly with a big grin on his face when he caught up to the two of you in the kitchen. He joined your hug and wrapped his arms around both you and Ben.

Charlotte and Brownie came running in from playing in the backyard to find out what all the fuss was about. "What's going on?"

"Bean got the lead role in the school play!" Willy informed her as he opened his arms to invite her into the group hug.

"Great, now we have to listen to him practice the whole show, not just that one piece?" The sassy 8-year-old rolled her eyes but then smiled and hugged her big brother. "Good job," she mumbled into his side.

Ben had obsessively practiced in the weeks leading up to the audition and continued to do so until the day of the event. Willy enjoyed spending his evenings running lines with the boy, and even offered tips for dramatic flourishes. What he didn't enjoy, though, was watching Ben be so hard on himself. As the big day neared, he would practically fall apart if he couldn't remember a line or deliver it perfectly.

"I- I can't do this, Papa. They should have picked someone else for the role," Ben lamented after a particularly rough rehearsal. He sat on the front porch of their house with his head in his hands. Willy seated himself next to his son and put a hand on his back, gently rubbing in a soothing circular motion.

"I really think you need to take a break. I never thought I would say this, but you have to get your nose out of that book. You've been practicing nonstop for days. Weeks, even. Your brain needs time to rest or else you will stay in this fog," Willy said in a low, calm tone.

"But there's only a week left until the show!" Ben shouted, his voice strained from holding back tears. Willy's hand stilled at the uncharacteristic outburst.

"Bean. I am serious. I respect how you are putting your heart and soul into this performance. But it shouldn't come at the expense of your health." He paused. "I don't want you to look at that script this weekend."

"But-"

"No buts, Benjamin. We are going to find something fun to do to get your mind off of things. I can almost guarantee you'll feel better by Monday."

Ben knew he had lost the argument when his father used his full name, which was rare. "Okay, fine," the boy grumbled.

"Besides, it will help you get into character. Peter Pan is a carefree spirit, after all," Willy joked as he ruffled Ben's hair. "Say, that gives me an idea. How about we go out in the boat? With the wind in your hair, you'll feel like you're flying, just like Peter Pan!"

Ben offered a closed-lipped smile and nodded in agreement. Willy clapped him on the back before going back inside to brief you on the plan. After some discussion, you thought it best if you took Charlotte into town for a girls' day while Willy took Ben out on the boat. She had a knack for winding Ben up, as siblings do, which would be counterproductive in his current state. Besides, you were overdue on taking some one-on-one time with your daughter.

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The weekend came, and Ben and Willy made their way to the docks early Saturday morning. Willy noted Ben's posture as he walked ahead toward the boat. Slumped. Defeated. Weary. He was more determined than ever to help his son out of these doldrums.

They loaded their supplies in silence, and Willy navigated them to the beach they had first visited many years ago when Ben was only three. The boy's curly hair flowed behind him as he faced into the wind. He looked back and smiled at his father as they neared land. Ben loved this place. Willy shined a hopeful smile in return.

Once the boat was tied off, the pair started aimlessly ambling along the shoreline. Willy stayed silent, wanting Ben to take the lead when he was ready to open up. It didn't take long. Ben paused to stare out at the sea.

"I'm scared," he said flatly, without looking at his father.

"I know." Willy stayed a step behind, watching his son stare off into the distance. "Want to talk through what exactly you're scared of?"

"That I'm going to mess up my lines and make a fool of myself and my castmates. That I wasn't the right choice for the role." Ben sighed and ducked his head.

"I see. So you think Ms. Harper makes poor decisions?"

"What?! No, she's the best teacher I've ever had!" Ben replied defensively.

"Then perhaps you should trust that she made the right decision about you. Now, of course, I might be a little biased, but I have seen you practice. You own the role so well that you transform, Bean. I no longer see my son, but a mischievous, adventurous scamp who fights pirates and flies to distant worlds on nothing but faith, trust, and pixie dust. You transport people into the story by making it so believable. Not just anybody can do that." He laid a hand on Ben's shoulder and squeezed. "And if you don't get a line quite right, the audience will be none the wiser. Especially if they are enchanted by your delivery. They won't have the script in front of them."

Ben looked to the side at the hand on his shoulder and covered it with his own for a moment. Willy responded with just a light squeeze, then the two continued their trek down the beach.

They eventually made their way up to a grassy hill where they decided to sit a spell. Ben laid back to watch the clouds drift slowly. Willy sat next to him, legs bent so he could rest his arms on his knees and look out across the water.

"You know, this reminds me of the day we spent together before your very first day of school. We went to the park, ran around, and watched the clouds float by. You were nervous then, too," Willy reminisced.

"Yeah? Seems to be a theme," Ben scoffed.

His father chuckled. "Perhaps. But you faced that first day head on even though you were scared. You didn't let it stop you. I have a feeling you will tackle this in much the same way. Even if the play is a disastrous flop - which it won't be - you're still the only thing I ever needed you to be." Willy looked down to make eye contact with Ben. "My son."

The boy's lip trembled. He sat up and wiped tears from his eyes. Willy wrapped an arm around and pulled him into his side. Ben buried his face into Willy's shoulder, and the floodgates to his tears opened. The poor boy had bottled up so much stress. In time, his sobs subsided, and he pulled away from his father to sit up straight again.

"Thank you, Papa," Ben said softly as he wiped his red, blotchy face. "You were right, as always. I do feel better."

"I'm glad I could help." Willy clapped him on the back then pushed himself off the ground, brushing the dirt off his pants as he stood. He held a hand out to Ben to help him up. "We better get going if we want to get home before dark."

On the walk back to the boat, Willy noticed the boy walked a little taller with a bit more spring to his step. There's my boy, he thought.

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The rest of the week passed quickly. Ben was still nervous but not to the point of incapacitation like before the trip. On the evening of the play, Willy handed Ben a box full of giraffe milk macaroons for him to share with his castmates. In the box, you included a note that said, "Break a leg and have fun!" Ben kissed you on the cheek, shook his father's hand, and left early to get into costume.

You, Willy, and Charlotte arrived at the auditorium and took your seats. Willy's leg bounced up and down with nerves until it was time for the show to start.

"Are you alright?" you whispered.

"Just a little nervous for him. I know how much this means to him."

You squeezed his hand and turned your attention to the stage as the curtain rose. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Willy mouthing lines throughout the performance and holding his hands to his mouth during the most dramatic scenes. He was the first to jump up to applaud when the curtain fell, triggering a standing ovation. The cast and crew came out once more to take a bow.

"Bravo, bravo!" Willy yelled, catching Ben's attention, who smiled at his family and waved excitedly. Willy looked over at you with glossy eyes. "He was perfect," he whispered.

"He's a natural showman, just like you."

"My little cocoa bean."

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Lily

"My Little Cocoa Bean" series

Summary: Ben/Bean (age 15) experiences his first major crush.

A/N: Mom/reader is mentioned but not part of the dialog in this one.

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Ben sat across the desk from his father in the factory office. This was typical for a weekday during the school year. He would often work on homework while Willy finished up the day's paperwork before they walked home together. But today, Ben was unusually distracted. He was looking at his paper, but Willy could tell his thoughts were far off elsewhere, especially when he heard the boy sigh.

"What's up, Bean?"

"Huh?" Ben blinked and looked up at his father, shaken from his thoughts. "Oh, uh, nothing," he replied quickly. Willy nodded, though skeptical, and they both turned their attention back to their papers.

Only a handful of minutes passed before Ben sighed once more.

"A double sigh. That's not nothing," Willy quipped.

"Well...I-" Ben rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly and blushed as he made eye contact with his father. "There's this girl."

Willy set down his pen and rested his chin on his palm, trying to hide a smile with his fingers. He had wondered when this would happen. "Do tell. Is she pretty?" he asked, waggling his eyebrows.

Ben rolled his eyes and blushed again. "Yes. She sits in front of me in math class."

"Does she like you, too?" Willy inquired.

"That's the trouble. I don't know and I'm afraid she'll say no if I ask," Ben lamented.

"Ah, I see. But what if she says yes?"

"Well," Ben paused. "That makes me nervous, too."

Willy chuckled. "Quite the conundrum, son."

Ben scoffed and dropped his head into his hands. "I know, I know. What do I do, Papa?"

"Hmm. Well, you either ask and live with whatever her answer may be, or you agonize over what could have been. That is up to you; though, just a little life tip, the latter tends to lead to more regrets."

Ben bit his lip in thought.

"You know, chocolate is a good conversation starter. I could whip up something special, if you'd like?" Willy asked, to which Ben nodded fervently. "Alright!" Willy rubbed his hands together. "Tell me, what is it you like most about...?"

"Lillian, Lily for short. Well...she's sweet. And very smart. She helps me with some of the harder homework problems before class. She has really pretty blue eyes." Ben sighed again. He was certainly under her spell.

Willy put his hand to his chin. "Hmm, yes, I can work with that. I'll have something ready for you tomorrow afternoon when you come by after school."

"Thank you, Papa!"

"Just know, these will be special in that they will be one of a kind, but they won't have any special properties to sway her decision. If she returns your affections, it has to be her choice. And if she says no, you need to respect that."

"I understand, Papa."

"Good lad. Now let's go home to your mother and sister. Your mother probably has better advice about this sort of thing than me, anyway."

"Please, please, PLEASE, just don't tell Charlie yet. She'll just pester me."

Willy mimed zipping his lips, laughing about the dynamic between his children. He clapped Ben on the shoulder. "Maybe wait until after Miss Lily says yes."

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As promised, Willy crafted a beautiful batch of milk chocolates for his son to gift his crush the next day. He painstakingly piped a tiny bouquet of white lilies and a blue bow made of icing onto each candy and wrapped them in a white box, which he also secured with a blue organza bow. He finished up just before Ben was due to swing by after school.

Willy heard the side door open. Assuming it was Ben, he announced, "Special chocolates for a special girl, coming right u-" He stopped when he spun and saw the bewildered look on his son's face. "What's wrong, Bean?"

"She asked me."

"What?"

"Lily asked me if I'm keen on her. She likes me, too. She likes me!" Ben shouted excitedly.

"Aaha! That's great, my boy! Well, then these are ready for you to take to your girlfriend." Willy handed him the wrapped box of chocolates. "But it looks like you won't be needing this for a boost of confidence, then." In his other hand, he held a small sleeve of giraffe milk macaroons.

"Actually, I could really use those for my math test tomorrow. I've had a terrible time paying attention," Ben said through a grin.

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Tag List: @croatianprincess

Hey peeps, I need your help deciding what to write for the "My Little Cocoa Bean" series. What Wonka family fluff do you want to see next? I'll also entertain ideas for slight angst but with a happy ending. I am very protective of this family!

If you have no clue what I am talking about, check out my masterlist. Please reblog to encourage others to vote!

Still Here

Chapter 1

Summary: After the life and home you built falls apart, you serendipitously bump into your old high school sweetheart, Timothée.

C/W: Divorce, mention of complicated pregnancy (nothing graphic)

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"I thought you were too good for this place, [Y/N]."

You spun around in the grocery store aisle to see your high school sweetheart, Timothée, holding a box of cereal in one hand, a shopping basket in the other, and a smirk on his face. His still very handsome face. He seemed to take great pleasure in the look of shock on yours.

"Timmy," you breathed.

"You came back."

<three weeks earlier>

The road ahead of you seemed to go on and on and on. You hadn't seen another car in at least an hour as you drove across the plains of Kansas. Your nine year old daughter, Madison, was asleep in the back seat, leaving you alone with your thoughts. Alone. That word didn't sit well with you.

A nasty divorce left you with nothing but what you could pack in your car. You had nowhere to go except back to your tiny hometown across the country in rural Tennessee to move back in with your parents. You hadn't been back since you graduated from high school 12 years ago.

You were valedictorian and had your pick of schools. Much to your parents' chagrin, you were itching to get as far away from the "sticks" as possible, so you applied to universities all along the West Coast. You were over the moon when you received a full ride to UCLA to study biomedical engineering, where you met...him. Your now ex-husband. The two of you met during convocation festivities your freshman, his junior year. You had just left your friends behind in Tennessee and had not yet built a local support network, so you latched onto this cute, kind man who picked up the book you dropped.

The kind man who later left you and your daughter to live with a younger woman who "gets" him better.

You and he dated for a little over a year before he asked you to marry him. Not one for big productions, you decided for a courthouse ceremony a few days later because you just couldn't wait to be joined with the love of your life in marriage forever. You were soon pregnant. Unfortunately, the pregnancy was not an easy one. Severe morning (more like morning, noon, and night) sickness led to multiple hospitalizations, forcing you to miss classes. You eventually reached a point of no return and had to drop out.

Your husband was still able to finish university, though, and was luckily able to quickly secure stable employment, which allowed you to stay home to care for your newborn baby. As the years passed, he became increasingly distant, staying late at work or making excuses to leave again once he was home. You weren't surprised when, after ten years of marriage, he told you he wanted a divorce, because you did, too. But you had no way to support yourself and a child. You hadn't held down a job since before Madison was born. Your work history prior to that was limited because you were so young. You had no collateral or credit history, either. Everything had been in his name.

You had to start over. You had to go back to the beginning.

<present>

Tennessee.

"You came back."

"Yes, I just recently moved back in with my parents. I-"

"Mom, can we get some chips? Nana doesn't have any good snacks," Madison complained behind you as she came back to the same aisle. Timothée went wide-eyed as he looked at the girl and then back at you. She leaned around you to stare back at him. "Who's he?"

"This is my- uh- friend from high school, Timothée. Timothée, this is my daughter, Madison."

"Whoa. She looks just like you did at that age." He shook his head as if to clear a fog. "Where are my manners?" he quipped as he stepped around you and held out his hand to her. "It's nice to meet you, Madison. Your mother and I go way back."

"You knew my mom when she was my age?"

"Before that, even. We went to school together all the way from kindergarten to senior year until she moved to California for college," Timothée replied before locking eyes with you. "She was very eager to get out of here, so I am rather surprised to run into her today."

"It's a long story." You cleared the lump forming in your throat and looked down at Madison. "We should get going. We need to get these groceries home and refrigerated again."

"Right, well, maybe I'll see you around again now that you are back in town." He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly.

"I'm sure we will bump into each other." Hopefully, you thought to yourself. "It's a small town - that's practically inevitable."

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Chapter 2

MASTERLIST

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Tag List: @croatianprincess

Still Here

Chapter 2

Summary: Flashback to your breakup with Timothée your senior year

C/W: Breakup

A/N: I have nothing against stay-at-home parents and homemakers. Both are their own noble full-time jobs. This is just a story about a young girl wanting to break free. And yes, the irony is not lost on me that the reader ultimately ends up in the exact situation she was running from in the first place.

Catch up on the previous chapter here.

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Life was stagnant in your small hometown in Tennessee. There was nothing to do, nothing to see except trees and buildings that had been around since the 1800s. The height of entertainment for teens like you was pasture parties or meeting your friends up at the Sonic drive-in for "happy hour." After high school, the boys usually either worked for the local steel mill or lumber yard. They may opt to continue their education through the area trade schools, but that was the exception, not the rule. The girls...well, the girls typically got married and had babies.

The townspeople were closed-minded traditionalists and stuck in old habits. Families, including yours, had lived there for generations. You were lucky to even find someone to date who you weren't related to by blood or marriage, and that was only because Timothée's family was a more recent addition to the town census.

You yearned for more. You were made for more. You felt it in your bones. You had no desire to be a doctor or a nurse, but you were fascinated by biology classes and a whiz in physics. And you wanted to help people. The school counselor fanned the flames by introducing you to biomedical engineering as a potential degree program.

You wore a groove in your dirt driveway with the number of times you walked to and from the mailbox every day, multiple times a day. The response letters from your numerous college applications were due in any time now. Your efforts usually yielded nothing except for bills or ads for your parents. But today, there was white envelope with your name, along with a blue and gold logo in the return address: UCLA.

Your hands shook. Your heart was about to pound its way out of your chest. The world silenced around you as your tunnel vision bore into the paper in your hands. You plunged a finger under the lip of the envelope to break the seal. You took a shuddering breath as you drew the paper out.

"Dear [Y/N] [L/N], we are happy to inform you..."

You didn't even finish reading before you started screaming and dancing in the driveway. Then you took off running back to the house to share the news with your mother.

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Your parents were proud of you, but of course, they were not eager to see you pack up and move across the country. You tuned them out until they said something about being in for a rude awakening because you didn't know what life was like out there, to which you said, "That's the whole point."

You grabbed your car keys and stormed out the door. You were determined not to let them kill your excitement. They just couldn't picture a life for you outside of their bubble. You drove around the backroads with your windows down and music loud, trying to drown out the replay of your parents' conversation. Without much thought, you eventually found yourself driving around the town square. You saw Timothée's truck outside of the hardware store. You checked the time - he should be finished with his evening shift soon. So you parked and walked over, lowering the tailgate to sit.

The two of you had been friends as long as you could remember and sweet on each other for years. You became an official item when you were sophomores and had been joined at the hip since.

Seeing the store's door open shook you from your thoughts. You saw him exit, head down and hands in his pockets. Right on time. You loved how his face lit up when he saw you across the street. He checked for traffic, then jogged over.

"Hey, baby! I wasn't expecting to see you tonight." He pecked your lips with his and placed his hands on your knees.

"Hopefully, it's a pleasant surprise," you replied with a raised eyebrow and a playful smirk.

"Oh, very. The highlight of my day." He kissed you once more, deeper this time, and flashed that crooked grin you loved so much. "Though my curiosity is piqued by this unusual visit on a school night."

You held out the envelope for him to see. "I got in, Timmy. And they are awarding me a full ride! My parents won't have to worry about how to finance things and I won't have to take out student loans."

Timothée took the envelope in hand and brushed his thumb over the logo. "California, huh?" he asked quietly.

"Last I checked, that's where Los Angeles is located," you chuckled.

"You're serious about this, aren't you?" His brows were furrowed, and his typically full lips pressed into a thin line.

Your mouth fell open in shock. Why couldn't anyone just be happy and excited for you today? "Of course I'm serious. That shouldn't be a surprise. You even encouraged me to apply to out-of-state schools!"

Timothee held a hand to his forehead and stepped back. "Yes, because I didn't want you to wonder if you could get in. But, I didn't think you would seriously consider packing up and moving across the country if they accepted you!" he shouted and threw his hands in the air.

Your voice seemed like a whisper compared to his current tone. "If I don't leave now, I will never get out of here. I HAVE to get out of here. This place is a black hole. It eats your hopes, your dreams, your ambition. I have a lot to offer the world, and I can't do that from here. I don't want to be stuck, like our older friends, my cousins, my PARENTS. I'll just end up with a baby on my hip playing Suzie Homemaker and making nothing of myself."

"Starting and taking care of a family isn't nothing, [Y/N]. I thought...I thought we would be together forever. That WE would have that family."

"One doesn't preclude the other, Timmy. Come with me."

Timothée quietly scoffed as his eyes fell. "I have no prospects in California."

"And there's nothing for me here."

His head shot up in shock. The hurt was evident on his face. "Nothing? NOTHING?! Wow, [Y/N]."

"Timmy, that's not-"

"Just go, [Y/N]." His lip wobbled. "Obviously you think you are too good for this town. Too good for me. It's better that we call off...whatever this is...now so you can completely start over."

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Chapter 3

Masterlist

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Tag List: @croatianprincess

Still Here (Chapter 3)

Summary: You have a chance to catch up with Timothée over lunch.

Catch up on previous chapters here.

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You didn't have to wait long to see Timothée again. You crossed paths at the pharmacy three days later, where you were shopping for toiletries and other sundries for you and Madison. There was something oddly...final...about buying full-size shampoos and conditioners, instead of the travel-size bottles you packed in California. Like you had finally accepted that you would be here for a while.

You spotted Timothée's distinguishable curly dark hair over on the next aisle. Your heart stuttered. You had hoped not to run into anyone you knew, especially someone with whom you shared a complicated past. Who was I kidding? This isn't a crowded Target in Cali where you can just blend in. You took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Should I say hello? Should I put down my stuff and come back later? [Y/N], stop it. You can't run away from this. It's a small town, and you are here for the foreseeable future. May as well embrace it. Besides, it may be nice to have a friend again, if he's willing after things ended.

You looked up at the signage above to see what was there. You didn't want to embarrass him if he was shopping for something...personal. Ah, shaving accessories. Nothing embarrassing about that. You smiled, briefly reminiscing how the boy you knew could never grow a full beard despite how desperately he wanted to.

You worked up the courage to go say hello. You intentionally came up behind him as payback for startling you earlier in the grocery store. "If I didn't know any better, I would think you were stalking me, Timothée Chalamet."

He quickly spun around, initially looking over your head before looking down to meet your eyes. His big, lopsided grin sent your heart into palpitations again, just as it did over a decade ago. "Well well well, I could say the same about you, [Y/N] [maiden name], or, umm, I guess it isn't [maiden name] anymore," he fumbled and grimaced.

"It is. I'm divorced," you forced out. You still weren't used to saying it out loud. You watched as a whole range of emotions swept over his face before landing on sad, pitying look.

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that. I wondered if that may be the case when you said you moved back in with your folks. You know, I run into your mother from time to time in town. It was through her that I knew you had gotten married and had a baby. She was always happy to show off pictures." He paused to chuckle. "But she didn't say anything about the, uh..." He gestured awkwardly with his hands.

"Yeah, well, my parents aren't big fans of the d-word. It was a very recent development, too, one they have not yet come to embrace despite not being big fans of Michael." You suddenly found your sneakers very interesting, unable to make eye contact with Timothée.

"Well, hey, I'm just here to grab my dad's meds. I was thinking about swinging by the diner to grab a bite to eat before driving back. Would you like to join me?"

"Uh, sure. Maddy is hanging out with my parents and they aren't expecting me back immediately. Might be nice to have adult conversation again." You chuckled. The two of you paid for your items and walked across the street to the restaurant.

Timothée, ever the gentleman, opened the door for you. Everyone looked up at the sound of the metal bells hitting the glass. Whispers started floating around as soon as you stepped foot inside.

"Is that [Y/N] [L/N]?' "I thought she was in California." "Maybe she's just visiting her family?"

You ducked your head as you felt your cheeks heat up in embarrassment. You followed Timothée to a table in the corner and sat with your back to the rest of the diner, not wanting to see the curious looks. It was somewhat reassuring, though, to know that you still bore enough resemblance to your former self that people recognized you. You hardly recognized yourself in the mirror anymore.

Right as you got settled in your seat, you heard footsteps stop beside you. You raised your head to see that your server was also someone you knew from high school, Amanda. You smiled and softly said hello.

"They said it was you, but I didn't believe them. How are you doing, honey? Where is that baby of yours? Your mom hasn't been by lately to show off any pictures." Only after her barrage of questions did she look across the table. "Hey, Timothée."

"Hey, Mandy," he replied quietly.

"Oh, she's hanging out with my parents while I did some shopping. She's not a baby anymore, though." You pulled out your phone to show Amanda a recent photo.

"She looks just like you, [Y/N]! And they are always babies, no matter how old they get. How old is she? Looks about 9 or 10. I have a 12 year old, almost 13. Practically a teenager!" Amanda pulled her phone out of her apron to show you her lock screen.

"He's very handsome," you offered with a friendly smile.

"How long are you in town for?" she asked.

"Uh, well, I'm not sure. However long it takes to get back on my feet. I recently got divorced, so I am trying to figure out what's next," you replied solemnly as you traced the patterns on the paisley tablecloth with your finger. You were trying (and probably failing) not to give away how incredibly overwhelmed you were feeling. You were grateful when Timothée interrupted the exchange.

"Hey, Mandy, what's the special today?"

"Oh, of course! You are here for a reason, after all. I was so eager to see if it was really [Y/N] that I forgot the menus. I'll be right back." She patted your shoulder before retreating. She returned as quickly as you could mouth "thank you" to him.

The two of you silently scanned the menu and then placed your orders. As you waited on the food, you easily fell into conversation about high school, then your time in California. You had forgotten how easy it was to talk to Timothée. You gleefully showed him pictures on your phone of your favorite landmarks and landscapes until you accidentally swiped to a photo of you, Madison, and Michael together at one of the national parks. The reminders of the fleeting happy times were painful.

Sensing the shift, Timothée grabbed your hand. You felt lightning surge throughout your body from his touch. He squeezed once and then let go just as quickly when he spotted Amanda heading to your table with your orders. You looked up and saw the smirk on her face as she eyed the two of you.

"Enjoy! I'll come back to check on you in a bit."

You turned to look at Timothée. "You know we are going to be the hot gossip for at least the next week, right?" you said playfully.

"Let them talk. There are worse rumors than being spotted with you." He cleared his throat, then popped a French fry in his mouth. "So, was there anything you missed about Tennessee?"

You, you thought automatically. "I eventually came to miss how much simpler things feel here. How life slows down in the woods and the mountains. In LA, everyone is always in a hurry. There is so much traffic. There were so many people, yet it was so lonely. Michael was really my only friend there." You went on, and Timothée listened intently as you provided a high-level retelling of what brought you back.

"...and so I packed up our clothes and a few belongings and drove out here. I got into town about two weeks ago and have been laying low with my tail between my legs." You stared down at your now empty plate in shame.

"Does he stay in touch with Madison?"

"No. He barely saw her after we separated, and he hasn't reached out since we left the state. But she's convinced that he's going to send for her to come live with him once he's settled in his new house in Sacramento with his girlfriend."

He shook his head. "You deserve better than that. SHE deserves better than that." You detected a hint of anger and disgust in his tone.

"Yeah, well, unfortunately, we are both paying the price for my poor decision-making." Your voice was thick with remorse. "She doesn't deserve to pay for my mistakes."

"[Y/N], you can't do that to yourself. You were young. All you can do is make the best of now." Amanda came by and set the check down on the table. You were grateful for her timing because you weren't sure what to say next. Your fingers brushed his as you both reached for the ticket.

"Please, let me get this," he said assertively. "I invited you to join me, remember?" He slid his credit card and the check over to Amanda, whose face was all grin. People were definitely going to hear about this.

You narrowed your eyes with playful scorn. "Fine, as long as you let me get it next time," you rebutted before fully thinking it through.

"Next time, eh?" His eyes lit up as he cocked his head to the side.

You blushed. Whoops. "Umm, yeah, next time. All we talked about was me today. We didn't even get to what you have been up to for the past 10+ years!"

"Fair enough, though that won't take long to tell," Timothée shrugged and signed the receipt after Amanda returned. You both stood and walked out the door to make your way back to the pharmacy parking lot.

"You still have the same truck!" you exclaimed. You jogged the rest of the way and ran your fingers across the emblem on the front. You and he made a lot of...memories...in that truck.

"Yep. Restoring her became somewhat of a hobby when I came back from Texas."

"Texas?" You never knew he left town. From what you remembered, he had never planned on going anywhere, especially not that far.

"A story for another day. Next time, remember?" he smirked.

"Well, maybe we should actually make plans for a next time instead of just hoping we run into each other in town. Here." You handed Timothée your phone. "Plug in your number so we can chat."

This time it was his turn to blush. He took the device from you and called himself. "So I can save your number as well," he offered.

You recognized the digits when you had your phone back in hand. "You never changed your number."

"If it ain't broke, don't fix it."

You laughed softly. "Fair enough."

"Well, I better get going. It was good to see you again, [Y/N]."

Timothée opened his arms for a hug, which you reciprocated. For a moment, all was right in the world with your head on his chest. I missed this. But I can't want this right now, you lectured yourself. You stepped back and gave him space to get into his truck. He rolled down his window to say goodbye once more.

"Tell your folks I said hello, please," you called out over the noise of the engine. His smile fell just briefly.

"You do the same."

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Chapter 4

Masterlist

Tag List: @croatianprincess

Still Here (Chapter 4)

Summary: Timothée invites you and Madison out to the lake.

A/N: This Timothée variant is so dad-coded that I'm falling in love with him myself.

Catch up on previous chapters here.

You spent the next few days helping your mother clean out and rearrange your old room to be livable once again instead of a dedicated craft space. You checked your phone constantly the first couple of days after your lunch with Timothée, but slowly resigned yourself to the fact that he may not reach out after all. You wouldn't blame him if he had changed his mind. The two of you hurt each other pretty badly all of those years ago and were practically strangers again thanks to time and distance.

On the fifth day, as you were perusing job ads in the local newspaper, you heard your phone ding. You stared at the device for a moment in disbelief. Was it going to be a message from him, or just another spam text that gets your hopes up? You flipped it over and spotted:

"Want to go out to the lake on Saturday?"

You bit your lip and grinned, hugging your phone to your chest. Finally.

"Sounds fun! Let me see if my parents are available to hang out with Maddy." "She's welcome, too."

Wow. You weren't used to that. Your "friends" in California weren't much on kids tagging along on your outings. It got to a point where you didn't go out much at all because getting a sitter was too expensive.

"Really? Thanks! I think she'd enjoy getting out of the house." "Of course. Let's meet at my place early around 7am so we can have some fun before it gets hot. Do you remember how to get here?" "As long as you are still on Hawk Road, I can manage ;)" "Yep. See you in a couple of days."

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Saturday morning finally arrived. It was hard to convince Madison to get out of bed, but with some persuasion (i.e. favorite breakfast) she was up and dressed relatively quickly. You went through your verbal checklist to ensure you had everything you both needed for day of fun in the sun:

"Phone charger, check, snacks, check, cooler of drinks, check, sunscreen, check, spare clothes, check. Alright, I think we have everything. Let's load up!" As expected, you were able to find Timothée's place with ease. He had a small house on the same land as his parents. You had spent enough time there as a teenager that you still knew the route like the back of your hand.

Timothée was already outside packing stuff into the bed of the truck when you arrived. He turned and waved as he heard your car make its way down the gravel driveway. Once you stopped, he walked up and opened the door for you. Another gesture you weren't used to anymore.

"Good morning!" You looked up at him from your car's seat and smiled. He hugged you once you stood.

"Morning, [Y/N]." He pulled back to look at your face, smiled again, then looked to the side as he spotted movement behind the car. "Hey, Madison!"

"Hey," she replied flatly as she walked up to the two of you. You pulled the girl into your side.

"Mornings aren't her favorite. She'll warm up eventually." You looked down to give her that "mind your manners" look.

"That's alright. I'm not a morning person either, unless I'm up for something fun. Like today!" Timothée said cheerily. That's when you noticed something connected to his truck.

You leaned around him and exclaimed, "You have a boat now?!"

He chuckled. "I did grow up a little bit while you were away, [Y/N]."

You laughed awkwardly, but then quickly froze when you realized, "Oh no, we don't have life jackets. I didn't know, so I didn't plan for..."

"Don't worry, I already thought through that. I had an extra adult one on hand and borrowed a kids' life jacket from the neighbors. By the way, they have some kids around Madison's age. I think their youngest may even be in the same grade in the fall. They want to meet you both."

"Oh, it would be so great if Madison could at least know one other kid when school starts up. Are they new in the area?"

"Relatively. They moved in about five years ago," he replied.

"Ah, I see. I have a lot of catching up to do," you noted. You looked down at your daughter and squeezed her shoulder, "And we have new friends to make."

"I may not even still be here when the new school year starts, remember?" Madison grumbled.

"Well, it doesn't hurt to have some friends around when you come visit your grandparents, though, right?" Timothée chimed in.

She shrugged. "I guess not."

"Right, well, back to the fun at hand. Before I saw the boat, I was going to offer that we all pile in my car since there is more space. We can just follow you over there instead," you stated.

"Nonsense. We can all fit in my truck. Here, let me put your things in the back." You opened the trunk and allowed him to transfer your bags and cooler.

As he walked away, you bent down to talk to Madison quietly. "His truck only has one row of seats. Are you okay with sitting in the middle between us?" Just because you had known Timothée most of your life didn't mean she would (or should) be automatically comfortable around him.

"Sure, I've never ridden in a truck like this before, or in a boat!" You could tell she was starting to perk up. She ran over when Timothée opened the heavy passenger door of the old blue truck and climbed inside eagerly. "Whoa, we're so high up compared to your car, Mom!"

Once you followed suit, Timothée shut the door and ran around the front to the driver seat to join you. "Alright, everyone buckled up?" he asked. You and Madison nodded. "Then let's go!"

As he drove, you pointed out some of the places from your childhood. This triggered some reminiscing on Timothée's part about some of the shenanigans the two of you got into, which made Madison giggle. She seemed to enjoy hearing about some of your irresponsible moments. Hearing her laugh again was like music to your ears. You looked over at the two of them as they laughed together. Even though it was at your expense, you couldn't help but smile. Maybe this is what it could have been like had you stayed, the two of you together with a child in between.

Your arrival at the lake interrupted your reverie. Soon the three of you were out on the water and heading for a cove Timothée liked to frequent. Madison sat at the front of the boat with you close behind. She was nervous at first, gripping the edge of the boat, but quickly loosened up. Her long blonde hair flowed behind her as she faced into the wind. She looked back at you with a grin and yelled, "It feels like I am flying!" You laughed and waved, then looked back at Timothée, who was watching the two of you with a soft smile...

...which quickly turned into a mischievous grin. "Watch this!" he shouted. Now out on open water, he opened the throttle on the motor. The nose of the boat raised out of the water with increased speed. This time, you were the one gripping the edge of your seat while your daughter screamed, "Woohoo!" with both hands in the air. You could hear Timothée laughing behind you.

Much to Madison's disappointment, Timothée had to slow down as you neared the cove. When you approached the shore, he turned the motor off and jumped out to drag the boat to the bank. The girl jumped from the boat to the sand. "That was awesome!" she exclaimed as she shucked her lifejacket.

Timothée offered his hand to help you down then grabbed the bags and cooler. "Glad you're enjoying yourself, kiddo. Now, can you help me find a spot to set up our stuff?" he asked.

Madison ran up a small hill and quickly spied a dry grassy space to lay out the blankets. "Over here!"

"That's perfect, Maddy." You laid out a blanket. "Why don't you sit here, take your shoes off, and put sunscreen on, then you can go wade around while I get everything else set up. But no swimming until one of us can join you."

Madison rolled her eyes. "Okayyyy..."

You raised an eyebrow. "Or I could make you sit here all by your lonesome while Timothée and I swim, if you're going to be like that."

"No, no, I'm good. Shallow water only." She gestured to cross her heart then ran back down the hill.

Timothée set the cooler down beside you. "I know it wasn't part of your plan years ago, but you're really good at that."

"What's that?" You gave him a questioning look.

"The whole mom thing. You seem to have a knack for when to give her space and freedom, and when to rein it in. Oof, and that eyebrow raise. Even I stopped in my tracks."

You laughed. "Oh just wait until I have to break out her middle name. That's when it's really serious, Timothée Hal Chalamet." He playfully shuddered. "But, uh, thanks. I feel like I fail at it all the time. Especially these last few months. Parenting is supposed to be a two person job, you know. Or more. Like they say, it takes a village." You dropped your head to prevent him from seeing the tears welling up in your eyes.

Timothée reached out to lift your chin. "I think you'll find a village here to help you, if you give them a chance." He brushed a stray tear from your cheek with his thumb.

Before you could respond, Madison interrupted with a squeal. He dropped his hand and cleared his throat as you quickly turned to investigate. "A fish touched my leg!"

You both chuckled. "I guess we better get down there," you said. You both undressed down to your swimwear and joined her. The three of you played and swam for hours. Once Timothée caught you by surprise by grabbing your waist, hoisting you out of the water, and throwing you back in. Madison giggled when you came back up spluttering, then asked to be thrown next.

This continued for several rotations until he was worn out. Both you and he needed a break. Madison was still going strong but was willing to come back into the shallows if it meant staying in the water.

Timothée sat beside you on the blanket as you dried yourself off. You could tell an idea dawned on him by the look on his face.

"Is it alright if I let her drive the boat around a little when we're back in open water? With help, of course?"

"Sure. That should be incentive enough to get her out of the water." You paused. "Thank you for today. I haven't seen her smile and laugh this much in months. It's all been so hard on her."

"Oh, think nothing of it. I come out here all the time to get away from life for a bit. Based on what you told me at lunch the other day, you hadn't had a chance to just stop and have some fun. I'm glad I could offer that."

"You...you're being so sweet to me."

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"Well, we never talked about the way we ended things. I'm sorry if I made you feel like you weren't important to me."

"No, I'm sorry. I should have been happy for you. Instead I selfishly focused on what I was losing versus what you were gaining. After some time, when I was able to see past my own hurt and look at things more objectively, I realized how incredibly brave you were to pack up and chase your dreams," he replied.

"I didn't reach them, though," you said sadly.

"Yet. You still have time," he said matter of factly.

You scoffed. "I appreciate the vote of confidence, but life is too crazy right now to even think about finishing school."

"Well, just don't lose sight of it. K?" You nodded. "So shall we pack up and head back?" He stood and offered you his hand.

"All good things must come to an end, sadly," you replied, allowing him to help you stand. The two of you folded up the blankets and hauled the stuff back to the boat.

As you predicted, Madison whined when she saw what was going on. "I don't want to go yet!"

You smirked and looked over at Timothée. "I got this," he muttered to you under his breath. "Hey, kiddo, would you want to go if I let you drive the boat?"

"Really?!"

Timothée nodded. "Only when we get out in open water, but yes, I'll show you how to steer."

Madison looked at you with big puppy dog eyes. "Can I really drive it, Mom?"

"Hmm," you put your finger and thumb on your chin to look deep in thought. "I suppose so."

"Yes!" She jumped up and down and pumped her fist in the air.

"Now go get your shoes and lifejacket back on," you instructed. You all loaded up in the boat and set on your way. Madison was visibly vibrating with excitement as she sat beside Timothée next to the motor.

"Ready?" he asked once out of the cove. She nodded emphatically. "Alright, we're not going to go as fast as we did on our way out here, ok? Now, you have to face forward, but put your hand here on the handle behind you. Good. You will need to push or pull the handle in the direction you want to go. If you want to head right, push right. Left, pull left."

"Got it. Right is right, left is left."

"Ok. I am going to twist the handle to get us going again. You focus on where we're heading." She looked at him very seriously and nodded. Timothée slowly increased the speed. Madison looked nervous for a brief moment as she experimented with how far to push or pull to get the boat to move.

"You're already a pro!" Timothée shouted.

"Look Mom, I'm doing it!" She beamed. It was a beautiful sight. You pulled out your phone and took their picture. You made a mental note to send it to Timothée later.

Madison steered the boat almost the entire way back to the boat ramp, and then Timothée took over. After he expertly brought the boat to rest at the dock, you and Madison unloaded your belongings while he got the truck. After loading up and heading out, Madison fell asleep against your shoulder before you even got to the highway. You rested your cheek on her head, reveling in the closeness. She didn't come to you for cuddles like she used to.

The girl stayed asleep even once you arrived back at Timothée's house. He gently picked her up and carried her to your car.

"Thank you for your help," you said softly as you stood by the car door. "And thank you again for today."

"I enjoyed it. Hopefully we can do it again sometime this summer."

"I'd like that, and I think it's safe to say she would, too." You grabbed the door handle and turned. "Hey, uh, want to grab dinner sometime this week?"

Timothée smiled. "Yes."

<><><><><>

Chapter 5

Masterlist

Tag List:

@croatianprincess

@bluizh

Still Here (Chapter 5)

Summary: Your mother fills you in on unexpected news about Timothée's past, and you meet his neighbors. You make a new mom friend!

A/N: Fem!reader's relationship with her mother isn't the healthiest. Mention of death of parent.

Catch up on previous chapters here.

After you got home and helped Madison inside, you sent Timothée the picture of him and her together on the boat.

Thought you might like to have this.

You walked to the living room where your parents were watching TV. You collapsed onto the sofa in exhaustion.

"Did you have fun?" your mother asked.

"We had a blast. Timothée took us out to the cove on the other side of the lake to swim. He even let Maddy drive the boat on the way back."

She smiled. "It was good for both of you to get out and have some fun."

"I agree. I feel...lighter. Timothée said that his neighbors have kids around Maddy's age. One of them may even be in her grade in the fall."

"Oh, that'll be nice for her."

"I'm going to ask him to introduce us so maybe she can get to know them before the school year starts. It'll be nice if she can know at least one kid."

Your mom hesitated. "Are you- do you think you'll be hanging out more often with Timothée?"

You cocked your head to the side, confused by her question. "Well, yes. I haven't really re-connected with anybody else here yet. It just worked out that I ran into him at the grocery store. And, well...it's almost like no time has passed at all."

She nodded. "I get that. But just- just be careful with his feelings. He's such a sweet boy and he has been through a lot."

You typically appreciated how your mom rose above small-town gossip, but not in this case. "What do you mean?"

"Not my story to tell. But if he hasn't told you already, I do think you should know that his mother passed away a few years ago."

Your hand shot to your mouth to silence your gasp. "Oh no. What happened? Why didn't you tell me sooner? Like years ago when it happened?!"

"Well, you were going through your own troubles, and you and he hadn't spoken in years at that point. He had enough on his plate without an ex-girlfriend vying for attention."

"I- I could have called him. Messaged him. Offered my condolences instead of coming across as callous or obtuse. Oh, now it makes so much more sense why he said he's helping out his dad. Or the look on his face when I said to tell his parents hello from me." You clasped your hand to your forehead. You had always liked Mrs. Chalamet.

"Just...spare his feelings. You already hurt him once." She gave you her classic condescending look.

"Spare his fee- He hurt me, too, you know!" You raised your voice in return. "And I'll have you know we talked through that today. Like adults!" You got up and stormed outside to the porch swing. She has some nerve. You sat there with your arms crossed, staring out across the field, until you felt your phone vibrate in your pocket.

She reminds me so much of you. She doesn't just look like you. She acts like you, too.

You smirked.

Bless her heart.

That's not a bad thing.

Don't tell her that. She'll just roll her eyes. But I get it. She wants to be her own person.

Hmm. Opinionated and stubborn. Sounds like someone I know.

She does come by it honest.

You laid your phone beside you and let out a long sigh. What am I supposed to do with the information Mom just told me? How do I even bring it up in conversation? I can't not say anything, but I also don't want to make him sad. You picked up your phone again when it buzzed.

She's a cool kid. Want me to see if my neighbors are available tomorrow to meet so she can hang out with other kids?

That would be lovely. We're free all day.

Stay tuned.

By that point you had cooled off, so you decided to go apologize to your mother for raising your voice and check on Madison. She had fallen asleep again in her room. Poor thing was tuckered out from the lake. You figured she would wake up soon to announce that she was hungry. Your phone buzzed again.

How about 6pm at the park on the square? They have church in the morning, and it's too hot to play outside in the early afternoon.

Sounds like a plan. Will you be joining us?

Nah, I'm going to just make you guess who you are supposed to meet. Of course I'm coming.

You snorted at his sarcasm.

Just curious. You know what happens when one assumes things. See you there.

I can come pick y'all up since you're on the way. No sense in three vehicles heading to the same space when two will do.

You drove us all the way out to the lake and back. Why don't you leave your truck at my parents' place and we can ride in my car.

Ok. I'll be there around 5:30.

<><><><><>

By 5:00pm the next day, you had changed clothes three times trying to find something cute but practical for the park. I really need to go shopping for myself at some point, you thought. Madison came into your room every five minutes to ask when Timothée was going to be there.

He was punctual and drove down the driveway at exactly 5:30. Madison beat you out the door and ran down the steps to give him a hug, which shocked you both.

"Hey there, kiddo, long time no see." He patted her on the back.

"But, I just saw you yesterday." She looked up at him in confusion.

He chuckled. You interjected quietly, "It's a figure of speech, Mads. He was being sarcastic because he did just see you yesterday."

"Ohhh."

You heard the screen door shut behind you and footsteps on the porch. Timothée stepped around the two of you and jogged up the steps to give your mother a hug and shake your dad's hand. "Mr. and Mrs. [L/N]. Good to see you."

"You, too, honey. It's been a while since I've seen you in town," your mom replied.

"Oh, well, I've been busy between the shop and taking care of my dad."

Your eyes dropped to the ground. You dragged the tip of your shoe through the dirt. The clues had been there all along; you just didn't see them. You turned to find Madison was already in the car and buckled, waiting as patiently as a 9-year-old can. You got in partially to start the car so she would have some air.

"Well, we better get going. Thanks for letting me leave my truck here," you heard Timothée say.

"Y'all have fun," your dad called out.

Your mother followed Timothée to your car. You rolled down your window and shut the door. "Did you pack some sunscreen and water?" she quizzed you, looking inside as he got in on the other side.

"Yes, Mom."

"What about snacks and extra clothes if Madison gets dirty?"

"I have all of that under control. And if I forgot something, we're a whopping 15 minutes away," you responded.

"Okay." She patted your arm that rested on the car door. "Have fun, stay out of trouble."

"Bye, Mrs. [L/N]," Timothée said sweetly as he waved.

"Bye, Nana!" Madison yelled from the back.

You looked over at Timothée as you rolled up the window. "Sorry about that."

"She cares. It's sweet. You shouldn't take it for granted," he said, looking down at his hands.

You hesitated. "Timothée, I- she told me last night about your mom. I'm so sorry. She was such a kind woman. If I had known, I would have reached out." You grabbed the hand of his closest to you and squeezed before returning yours to the steering wheel.

"Thanks, [Y/N]. I miss her a great deal, but it's getting easier with time."

All of you were silent for the rest of the drive. The nervousness of meeting new people was catching up to you. Did I upset him? Will I be able to carry on conversation with the parents without it getting awkward? Will Madison get along with the kids? you worried. You drove up to the park and spotted a family there already with three kids.

"Is that them?" you asked and nodded your head in their direction. Timothée looked up and around.

"Yep. That's Blake and Holly. The kids are Anthony, Emerie, and Bradley. Ready?"

"Yes! Let's go!" Madison interrupted before you could respond. The three of you got out of your car and crossed the parking lot. As you got closer, Madison's earlier eagerness morphed into shyness. She tucked herself against your side.

"Timothée! Over here!" you heard the woman, Holly, call out. You all walked over to the picnic table where they were gathered.

"Hey, Holly, Blake." Timothée nodded then gestured to you and Madison. "This is [Y/N] and her daughter, Madison, who I was telling you about."

"It's so nice to meet you," Holly said as you all shook hands. She bent over to eye level with Madison. "Especially you! You're 9, right?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"My Emerie is 9, too. Let's see, where is she?" Holly stood. "Kids, come over here, please," she shouted. The three children ran over to their mother. "This is Anthony. He's 11, and Bradley here is 6. And this is Emerie. Kids, this is Madison. She's Emerie's age."

Madison shyly waved. Emerie stepped up and asked, "Want to go slide with me?" Madison nodded and followed. The boys took their soccer ball out to the field to continue playing. Echoes of the girls' giggles soon filled the air.

Timothée sat beside you on the bench seat of the picnic table to watch Madison play. You looked across the table at Holly and Blake. "Thank you for meeting us here. And for letting Madison borrow the lifejacket yesterday. She had an absolute blast."

"We're happy to meet someone new! We didn't know anyone when we moved here a few years ago, so we understand what it's like to start over. Though I understand you grew up here?" Holly asked.

"I did. But I moved to California for college when I was 18 and lived there until just recently. This is a strange new world for Madison, though."

"It'll get easier for her with time. It seems like she and Emerie have hit it off quite well." Holly smiled. "She should acclimate quickly in school, too. The teachers are fantastic."

"That's so good to hear. I need to go take care of her registration paperwork soon."

"I had to do it with Anthony after we moved, if you need any help," Holly offered.

You smiled. "Thanks. I might take you up on that." The two of you continued to converse about kids, school, and life in California. It seemed promising that the two of you could become friends, too. Your first mom friend.

Madison came running over at full speed and stopped just short of the table. She leaned down with her hands on her knees as she caught her breath. "Emerie said I could come over and play sometime. Can I?" she asked through her panting.

"Well, if her parents are also okay with it." You looked over at Holly who laughed and nodded. "Then yes."

"She said yessss!" Madison yelled as she ran back to playground. All of the adults chuckled.

You looked over at Timothée and smiled. "Thank you for this," you said quietly. He said nothing, just bumped your shoulder with his. Holly looked at you with a little smirk.

As the evening came to a close, you exchanged numbers with Holly and thanked her and Blake again. You both wrangled your respective children and parted ways.

Madison talked a mile a minute on the way home about her time with Emerie and even expressed some excitement about going to a new school. Neither you nor Timothée could get a word in edgewise. Once you arrived home, you asked her to run inside and get ready for a shower while you said goodbye to Timothée.

"Mission accomplished," he said warmly as he watched the girl skip up the steps and through the front door.

"Indeed. That's the first I've heard her embrace being here for the new school year and looking forward to it. Thanks for coordinating and tagging along. I'm sure you had to be bored," you said, walking with him to his truck.

"On the contrary. I had a good time. They're good folk. And you two are cool, too." He winked, and you blushed.

"So about that dinner I mentioned yesterday. My treat this time, if you're still game. We still need to catch up about YOU." You playfully poked his chest.

"As long you let me drive. Maybe Friday? We can drive into Hartley. I know a good place, and there is something I want to show you."

<><><><><>

Chapter 6

Masterlist

<><><><><>

Tag List:

@croatianprincess

@bluizh

Still Here (Chapter 7)

Summary: Three little words from Timmy send you into a panic.

A/N: A shorter chapter, but a BIG one.

Catch up on previous chapters here.

"I should have followed you when you asked me."

In slow motion, Timothée's lips met yours. They were as plush and soft as you remembered. His hands eagerly made their way to your hips to pull your body to his. One of your hands snaked up his back while the other gripped his neck to pull him deeper into the kiss.

"[Y/N], I love you," he moaned when came up for air.

Instantly, you pulled away. He kept his arms out, stunned by your sudden absence from them.

"Timmy...I can't tell you how much I want this. I have feelings for you, too. But it's too soon. I- I can't say it back yet," your voice trembled. You walked over to his truck and dropped the tailgate to sit. "This isn't just a matter of picking up where we left off 12 years ago. I've lived a whole separate life in between. I have a daughter depending on me to keep my shit together.

I got so wrapped up in being wife and mother, I- I don't even know who I am anymore. I need to figure that out first. I rushed headlong into my last relationship with blinders on. I couldn't see anything else but him. I latched onto him because I was alone and lonely. Sound familiar? I lost myself in trying to be whatever he wanted me to be. I can't- I can't do that again." You put both of your hands to your forehead. "I've barely been back more than a month, and I'm already entertaining a new relationship."

Timothée joined you on the tailgate. "But, it's not new."

"Yes, it is!" you shouted. "I'm not the same person I was 12 years ago. We need to get to know each other again to make sure we actually like each other for who we are now, not just getting wrapped up in the nostalgia of what was. I- I've been hurt, wounded, heart flayed open at the hands of someone else who also once said they loved me. Then they fell out of love with me. What does that say about me? What does that say about love?" your voice faded to a whisper.

"It says more about him," Timothée growled. "That he's a damn fool. And so was I to let you go in the first place. But unlike that idiot, I NEVER STOPPED LOVING YOU!" He jumped off the tailgate to pace the sidewalk.

You blinked owlishly at him. "What?"

"Why do you think I couldn't follow through with my engagement in Texas? She was funny, beautiful even...but she wasn't you. And that wasn't fair to her."

"And I don't think this is fair to you!" you exclaimed. "I feel so drained right now. I don't have a lot of emotional energy to offer, and what reserve I do have needs to go to Madison. She's my number one priority. I hope you understand that I'm not saying no. I'm asking for slow."

He stopped pacing and stood directly in front of you, one hand resting on your knee. The other cupped your face. "I'm not going anywhere. I'll go as slow as you need. But, I'm not going to stop telling you that I love you. You deserve to hear it. Know it. Feel it. I will still be here when you decide it's safe to love me back." He broke the seriousness with a flash of his classic lopsided grin. "And if you think being honest with me is going to change how I feel about you, then maaaaybe you're not quite as smart as I thought."

You laughed softly and leaned into his touch. "I'm glad I haven't scared you off. Most men would turn tail and run at the sight of a divorcée with a pre-teen daughter."

"Well, I'm not most men, and I've actually grown quite fond of Madison," Timothée replied.

"I can tell. And she likes you, too, it seems. I think that's what scares me most, though. Any decision I make impacts her as well. She got hurt in all of this, too. I don't want her to get attached to someone who may not stick around. Not that- I don't mean that you would do that. Just in general."

"I knew what you meant. I respect you for putting her first. I would expect nothing less from you. And I'd sooner walk through fire than hurt her." He kissed the top of your head and sat back down beside you. You rested your head on his shoulder for a few silent moments.

"We seem to have our most serious conversations in the back of this truck." You looked up at him and half-smiled.

"I can think of some other things that have happened in this truck, too." He winked.

"Timmy!" you popped him lightly on the arm in feigned embarrassment.

"So what now?" he asked in a more serious tone.

"I don't know. This is new to me, too. I guess we do what we have been doing. We hang out. We talk. We get to know each other's adult selves. But no PDA in front of Maddy. Not yet. I will talk to her when I feel the time is right and slowly introduce the concept of me dating again."

"I can live with that. But when she's not around, can I still do this?" He leaned over and teasingly grazed his lips over yours.

"I can live with that," you breathed out. This time, you closed the gap, all but slamming your mouth against his for a deeper kiss.

<><><><><>

Chapter 8

Masterlist

Tag List: @croatianprincess @bluizh

Still Here (Chapter 8)

Summary: Madison finds out about you and Timothée.

Catch up on previous chapters here.

"How are things going with Timothée?" Holly asked while the two of you were watching the kids play.

You looked over at your new friend with wide eyes. It had only been less than a week since Timothée bared his feelings and kissed you outside the Italian restaurant. "Oh, uh, we aren't-" you stuttered and tried to play dumb.

She raised her eyebrow at you. "It's clear he's head over heels for you. I knew it from the day he called about that lifejacket. And although I don't know you quite as well, it seemed like that may be reciprocated."

"Is it that obvious?" She nodded. You huffed. "It's...complicated. I don't know if he told you, but we were high school sweethearts."

"Awww!" Holly exclaimed with a pouted lip.

"But we split our senior year when I decided to go to college in California. I was determined to get out of town, and he wasn't ready to leave. I got out there, met someone, got married a couple of years later, and had Madison about a year after that. The ink was barely dry on my divorce decree when I moved back. I didn't expect to run into him so soon. I didn't even know he was still here."

"It's a small town, honey."

You laughed quietly. "I know, I know."

"Let me guess. You are worried that Madison will be upset."

"Very much so," you replied solemnly.

"They seem to get along quite well. She may be a little shocked at first, but I think you'll find that she wants you to be happy. Especially if you explain that he's not replacing her father. My parents were divorced, too. My mom started dating soon after. Looking back, I understand why. Just because the divorce made it official didn't mean that the marriage wasn't already over well before that. You deserve to be happy."

You nodded and stared off at the kids swinging on the monkey bars. Maybe Madison was more ready to handle the news than you gave her credit for.

Holly broke you from your thoughts. "Will we see you at the carnival tonight?"

"Yes! Timothée is going to swing by around..." you stopped at the sight of her wry smile. "Oh hush you." You tried to give her a stern look before busting out a laugh.

<><><><><>

You sat on the porch swing that was handcrafted by the man you were waiting on. You wanted to sneak a kiss before Timothée came inside to greet your family. The days since your dinner date left you longing for more. Instead, you had to settle for text messages and calling each other at night until one of you fell asleep.

You heard the unmistakable droning of his blue truck down the road. You stood and paced on the porch until he parked in front of the house. You bounded down the steps and ran to the driver's side. Timothée caught you and spun, planting a big kiss on your lips as he set you on your feet.

"Hey, baby," he gushed.

You blushed and looked down at the ground.

"Too soon?" he asked worriedly.

"No. I- I like it. I've missed it. Just like old times," you grinned, making eye contact once more. He responded in like measure with a grin of his own.

"Good. Now, where's my favorite 9-year-old?" He looked around for Madison.

"She's inside working on a craft project with my mom."

"Which means I can steal one more kiss." He grabbed you and dipped you backward. You stifled a screech at the speed of it all to avoid unwanted attention from inside the house. Once his lips pulled away from yours, he stared into your eyes for a moment and then rubbed the tip of his nose on yours. "I love you."

"I know," you said warmly. You kissed the tip of his nose and he brought you back up to a standing position. You walked up the stairs together and into the house.

"Timothée!" Madison cheered.

"Hey, kiddo! Whatcha working on?"

"It's a suncatcher made out of a frame, beads, and...what kind of wire did you say, Nana?"

"Chicken wire," your mom called from the kitchen.

"Chicken wire," Madison continued.

"Madison, this is beautiful," Timothée cooed as he gently grazed the baubles with his fingers. "When you finish, I'd like to buy it and hang it up in my shop window."

"Really?" the girl squeaked. You felt all warm and fuzzy inside watching the two interact. Michael had always gotten so grumpy about craft messes.

"Yep. Who knows, you may have a line of customers asking you to make one for them. But for now, you should take a break so we can go have some fun. Ready to go to the Founders' Day Festival?"

"Yep! Just need to get my shoes on." She ran to her bedroom. Your mother joined you from the kitchen.

"That was nice of you to offer to buy that," she said to Timothée as she gave him a hug.

"I'm just trying to get an original before she's famous." He winked. "I know talent when I see it."

Madison came running back in. "Ready!" She announced. Once all goodbye hugs and handshakes were distributed to your parents, the three of you walked outside.

"Pleeeeease, can we take Timothée's truck?" Madison begged. She loved sitting up high and seeing everything.

He grinned. "You like my truck, eh?" The girl nodded so hard you thought she'd fall over. "Tell you what. If she's still running by the time you're tall enough to reach the pedals, we'll take her out to the backroads by the lake and I'll teach you how to drive."

Your eyes went as wide as saucers. You were shocked - oddly, not by the paternal gesture - but at how sure he seemed of your future. Together.

Timothée saw your face and made a choked noise before adding, "Ehrr, if your mother is okay with it, of course."

You shook your head to clear your thoughts and face - like an Etch-a-Sketch. "Of course. That's where and how I learned, too."

"Yessss!" Madison squealed.

"But you still have some growing to do," you added while climbing in after Madison into the truck.

<><><><><>

At one point, you weren't sure who was having more fun, Madison or Timothée. They zigged and zagged all over the place together, from the concession stands to the rides and games. He doted on her the entire evening. The sight of him hauling around a large teddy bear looked a scene out of a movie.

"You are spoiling her," you playfully muttered under your breath to him while Madison was busy tossing rings onto bottles.

He shrugged. "It's fun. I want her to have a good time. She's had a tough year. She deserves to have some good memories of this summer."

"You don't have to do that, Timmy."

"I know I don't have to. I want to." He smiled.

"You're amaz-"

"[Y/N] [L/N], is that you?" You turned to find the source of the shrill voice behind you. It was yet another high school classmate, Ashley. "It is you! I heard you were back in town!" She gave you a hug and looked over at Timothée. "Just look at you two! I knew you would get back together again someday. You were such a cute couple in high school."

"Oh, uh-" you stuttered as you looked over at Timothée in a slight panic. Luckily she was interrupted by her child tugging her arm before you had to formulate a response.

"Well, I gotta run. Good to see you, [Y/N]. Swing by the the bakery soon so we can catch up!" She left as quickly as she had descended upon you. You waved half-heartedly and let out the breath you didn't realize you were holding. You turned back around and noticed that Madison was no longer at the game table...

...but standing right beside you. She looked up at you in confusion. "Couple?!" You both stared at each other with mouths agape before she stalked off to the courthouse steps. You turned to Timothée and handed him your drink.

"Here, can you hold this while I go talk to her?"

"Sure, I'll be right over here."

You slowly walked up and sat on the step beside her.

"You told me you and Timothée were friends. You didn't say he's your BOYfriend," she accused.

"We are friends, Madison. He used to be my boyfriend in high school. We are still trying to figure out what we are right now," you confessed.

"Is he why we came back here?"

"No. I didn't even know he was still here, honestly. We came back here because this is my home, and I needed help from Nana and Pawpaw while I figured things out."

"If you're with Timothée, then you and Daddy can't get back together," she stated flatly. It wasn't a question.

"Sweetheart, your father and I are not getting back together. We just aren't a good fit anymore. But that doesn't mean that Timothée will replace your father if things become more serious between us. It just means you have even more people who love you and want to look out for you."

"Do you like him?"

"I do, very much." You looked up and made eye contact with him as he observed from his perch by the Ferris wheel. He shifted in his seat nervously.

She nodded and went silent for a few moments.

"Does this mean he'll hang out with us more often?" she inquired, looking over at him, too.

"I'm sure he would love to hang out even more often than he does already, if you are comfortable with that."

"I think so. He's nice, and he's fun. And you're more fun when he's around."

You laughed and wrapped your arm around her shoulders. "I'll try not to take that too personally." She leaned her head into the crook of your neck. "I love you, Maddy. I want you to know you are my number one priority no matter what."

"I know." She stood and walked toward Timothée without bothering to wait for you. You quick-stepped to catch up. He paled as you both came toward him, not knowing the outcome of the conversation. You weren't exactly sure what was about to happen next, either.

Madison stopped just short of his outstretched leg. "So do you want to be my mom's boyfriend?" she asked directly.

Timothée's mouth dropped momentarily as he regained his senses. He glanced at you before looking back at the girl. "Uh, well, yes. I'd like that very much." He leaned forward and whispered, "Do you think I should ask her?"

Madison giggled and nodded her head. "I think she'll say yes," she whispered in return. She looked back at you and winked.

"Madison!" you heard a childish voice call from your right.

"Emerie! Can I go talk to her, Mom?" she asked, now thoroughly distracted from the conversation.

"Sure, just stick close to her parents. We'll catch up with you in a second." The girl eagerly ran off to her new friend.

Timothée stood and walked to your side. "Well, I guess now is as good a time as any to ask if you would like to be my girlfriend - again?"

You took his hand in yours. "I'd like that very much." He looked down and softly smiled before pulling you in for a kiss. A very public kiss.

The two of you walked side by side to greet Holly and Blake. Holly looked down at your clasped hands, then back at you with a knowing smile. "Good for you," she whispered as you all followed the kids around the fair.

<><><><><>

Chapter 9

Masterlist

Tag List:

@croatianprincess, @bluizh, @jindongdongie

Still Here (Chapter 9)

Summary: Your ex calls and throws off your evening. You and Timothée make love for the first time (again), and you finally say the three little words he's been dying to hear.

C/W: Conversation with toxic ex; NSFW (oral and consensual/protected p-in-v sex, denied orgasm)

Catch up on previous chapters here.

You walked into the town's elementary school and were immediately hit by a wave of nostalgia. It was the same one you attended, after all, though the hallways seemed much smaller (or normal, really) as an adult. Madison walked alongside you to the office to register for the upcoming school year.

"Oh, that was my classroom for 3rd grade. Ms. Hobbs was my favorite teacher. She had a knack for making stories come alive. She would decorate the classroom based on what we were reading at the time. Oh, we had SO much fun when we read Charlie and the Chocolate Factory! I found the golden ticket and got to pick a prize out of the treasure bin."

Madison barely acknowledged your story with a "uh-huh" as she looked around, nervously biting her lip.

"I figured that would get more of a reaction out of you given your current obsession with Wonka," you said as you playfully nudged her arm with your elbow.

"Huh? Oh, sorry, Mom. I'm just thinking about my old school. And my friends."

You stopped walking and gave her a hug. "I know how hard it was for me to move across the country and start at a new school, and I was an adult. Well, a teenaged adult, but still. I can only imagine how you are feeling at the moment. If you want to talk about it, I'm all ears. And I'm sure Nana, Pawpaw, and even Timothée would say the same." You squeezed her to you once more. "You're a likeable girl, Madison. You'll make new friends here. And at least you know Emerie already." She just nodded, so you kept your nostalgia as you continued to the office to finish paperwork.

Evening arrived and Timothée came to pick you up for a date. It was a fantastic feeling to have your relationship out in the open now. Your mom was even supportive despite her earlier comments about sparing his feelings. Madison was sitting outside on the porch swing reading a book when he came up the steps.

"Hey, kiddo!" you heard him say cheerily through the front door. You had heard him drive up and got up to let him in, but once you saw the two talking you wanted to give them some space.

"Hey." Madison put her book down.

"I heard you got to see your new school today. What'd you think?"

"It's...small."

Timothée laughed and sat beside her. "I'm sure it's very small compared to what you are used to."

"At least I won't have a lot of new names to memorize," she side-eyed him and smirked.

"That's one way to look at it!" He bumped her arm with his. "Alright, I'm going to go say hi to your grandparents and mom."

Timothée lightly rapped on the door as he let himself in. You slightly startled him with your presence right by the door, but he quickly regained his senses and greeted you with a kiss. As he stepped around to say hello to your parents, your phone rang. It was your ex, Michael.

"Hello?" you answered in a questioning tone.

"I'm calling to talk to Madison."

"Oh, uhh, I'm about to go out, but I can give her the phone for a few minutes while I finish getting ready."

"Go out? Like on a date?"

"Not that it's any of your business, but yes." You made frustrated eye contact with Timothée and mouthed "Michael" as you walked to your bedroom. He followed and leaned against the doorway with his arms crossed.

"It IS my business to know who is spending time with my child," he groused.

You felt your ears heat up and your lip curl. "Like you gave me the same courtesy when you started seeing Katie," you spat. "Besides, you hardly reach out to make contact with YOUR child. You can't just call on a whim and demand to talk to her after weeks of radio silence."

"Just let me talk to her."

You muted the phone and grabbed a pillow from your bed to scream into. Despite how much you just wanted to hang up on Michael, you never wanted Madison to say that you kept her away from him. You squeezed past Timothée and walked to the front porch.

"Maddy, your dad is on the phone." She looked up at you in confusion that was quickly replaced with excitement. She grabbed for the phone.

"Daddy?" You couldn't hear what he was saying on the other end, but you heard her start listing off some of the fun things she had done since moving out here. You went back inside but only closed the screen door so you could easily hear if you needed to intervene.

Timothée was sitting on the couch. "What did he want?" he asked attitudinally.

"He just randomly wanted to talk to Madison, I guess."

"Where does he come off questioning you about you personal life?" You just shrugged, unsure of where Michael's behavior was stemming from. A few minutes later, Madison came in and handed you the phone.

"Here, he wants to talk to you again."

You took the phone back and held it to your ear. "Hello?"

"Who is Timothy? Isn't he the guy who dumped you in high school? Is the dating pool in that tiny ass town so small out that you have to resort to your own leftovers?" You didn't validate his insane line of questioning with a response. "Whatever. Why is Madison around him so much? He is basically all she talked about. What kind of influence is that blue-collar, good for noth-"

"Don't you DARE talk about him like that." Your voice was dripping with venom. You jumped up from the couch and stormed out onto the porch. Your mother, upon hearing your tone, took Madison into the kitchen to keep her occupied.

"I do not owe you an explanation for how I choose to fix what you broke," you continued. "EVERYTHING I do, I think about Madison first. Can you say the same? I ran into Timothée a couple of weeks after we got back into town, and yes we reconnected. But you know what. She probably likes him because he has spent more quality time with her in the past two months than you have in the past two YEARS. HE shows an interest in her. HE checks in on her. HE puts her first in our relationship. HE treats her like a human being, and not just to get to me. Because HE is a decent human being. Next time you want to talk to Madison, coordinate a date and time first. I am no longer available to cater to your every whim." You hung up and ran down the steps to the driveway. You angrily walked over to your dad's shed and kicked the tire on the tractor.

"Careful, you could break a toe doing that."

You spun and saw Timothée standing a few paces behind you. You sighed and closed your eyes. "How much did you hear?"

"Enough to confirm that he's an asshole. Though I did enjoy hearing you sing my praises," he smirked.

You laughed wetly as hot tears poured down your face. "I'm sorry that he called right as we were about to head out the door."

"Shh, don't worry about it." Timothée pulled you into a hug and rested his chin on your head. "I know you probably don't feel like eating after getting so worked up. Would you like to come over and chill at my place instead of going out? We can pick up a pizza, snuggle on the couch, and watch a movie"

"That sounds so much better than the original plan right now."

<><><><><> (minors DNI from this point)

Timothée held the door open for you to enter his house. While you had been on the property a couple of times since returning from California, you had yet to go inside his new place. This house was not here when the two of you dated in high school, so you had no idea what the interior looked like.

"Welcome," he said. "Make yourself comfortable. I'll get us a couple of plates."

You walked to the couch and leaned against the back of it. "It's less...'bachelor pad' than I expected," you said through a laugh.

"Ah, well, I cleaned up my act once I started pushing 30." You chuckled. "Bathroom is over there," Timothée pointed, "if you need it." He walked around the counter and couch to the coffee table and grabbed the remote. "Here, why don't you find something to watch while I divvy up the pizza."

You sat down on the couch, took the remote in hand, and started scrolling through Netflix. You still hadn't decided when he sat next to you with the pizza and beer. Still feeling the nostalgia from visiting the school with Madison, you settled on 13 Going on 30. He rolled his eyes.

"What? You told me to choose. I was inspired by your earlier comment about getting your act together at 30."

"I rolled my eyes because of the number of times you made me sit through this movie in high school. Some things never change."

"It's one of my faves!"

"Well, I guess I can appreciate the plot line a little more now. Guy in his 30s eventually gets the girl he pined over as a teen."

"Awww, you're getting sentimental in your old age." You grinned.

Timothée pretended to scowl at you, then booped you on the nose. "Are you going to press play or not?"

Once the two of you finished the pizza, you set the plates aside and curled up next to him. He draped his arm around you, allowing his fingers to lazily drift up and down your arm. As the movie progressed, his hand eventually found its way to the space above your jeans where your shirt had ridden up slightly. You shivered as he grazed the bare skin on your waist. You lifted your head from his shoulder and looked up at him. He seized the opportunity to capture your lips with his.

You hungrily opened your mouth to deepen the kiss. You felt his tongue glide across yours in return. You eagerly shifted to sit in his lap. He reached around and squeezed your ass before sliding his hands under your shirt. At first he just snaked his hands underneath, but then began to pull it up. You sucked in a breath and froze, catching his hand at the hem of your shirt. He pulled back to look at your face with concern.

"Timothée, I- uh, I don't have the same body I did as a teenager."

His face relaxed and he smiled warmly. "[Y/N], you were and still are the most beautiful woman I have ever laid eyes on."

"Yeah, but..." you argued as your insecurities became more evident.

"Let me guess," he interrupted. "Stretch marks? More curves from maturing into a gorgeous woman whose awe-inspiring body has brought life into this world?"

You simply nodded. Your cheeks blushed from the attention.

Timothée pulled you tighter against his body. "Let me love those, too." He stood with your legs still wrapped around him. His hands cupped your ass to support you as he carried you to the bedroom. You wrapped your arms around his neck and clasped a hand in his hair. He placed a knee on his bed and laid you down gently.

"You okay?" he asked as he hovered over you. Your breathing shuddered, but you nodded.

"It's...it's been a while," you whispered.

"Me, too." Timothée gently grazed his lips against yours. Once. Twice. He then tugged at your shirt, and this time you made no move to stop him. He pushed himself up on his arms to take in the sight of you half-naked on his bed.

"Now, why am I more undressed than you?" you teased. You grabbed the hem of his t-shirt and pulled. He sat up and continued to pull it over his head. You sat up on your knees to run your hand down his chest and abs, stopping at the buttons on his jeans.

Timothée grabbed your hips and sucked in a breath in anticipation of your next move. "[Y/N], I want you so badly."

"Not as much as I want you." You both stood and clumsily finished undressing each other while hungrily kissing each other. He snuck a hand between your folds as you freed one leg from your pants. You gasped, having become unaccustomed to the feeling of another's touch. Noticing the reaction, he curled his fingers and rubbed your increasingly sensitive bundle of nerves. You moaned, wrapping your arms around his neck to prevent your collapse.

Just as you started to feel the heat of climax in your core, Timothée pulled away. You whined at the absence of his hand. He flashed a wry smile and licked his fingers. He pressed himself against you and pulled your chin up for a kiss. Then, he backed you up against the bed so your knees buckled, forcing you to lay back. He separated your legs with his body and dipped down onto his knees. You knew what was about to happen, but you were still not prepared for the overwhelming sensation of his warm tongue separating your folds. You involuntarily bucked up into his face. In return, his hands snaked to your hips to pin them down. You moaned and struggled against his grip as the coil inside your belly tightened and tightened. But yet again, he stopped before you could reach your climax.

Timothée reached for the drawer of his nightstand and pulled out a condom. Once sheathed, he picked you up and pulled you further back onto the bed. He hovered briefly, staring into your eyes. "I never thought I would get to have this - have you - again."

"Take me," you breathed. "Please. I'm yours." Maintaining eye contact, he lined himself up and gently pushed in until he filled you completely. You both stilled, reveling in the closeness and allowing you a moment to adjust and accommodate his length. He began to work his hips, rutting up against you. The coil inside you quickly constricted again when he reached between you to rub your sensitive bud until you were finally overcome. Your walls clenched around him as you clung to him with all of your limbs, gasping his name.

After you caught your breath, you cupped his face in your hands and guided him down to kiss you. He continued to slowly grind against you, trying to postpone its inevitable end. You loosened your grip so he could pull back and gaze into your eyes.

"Timothée, I love you," you whispered as you stared into his emerald orbs.

He came undone at your confession.

<><><><><>

Chapter 10

Masterlist

Tag List:

@croatianprincess, @bluizh, @jindongdongie

Still Here (Chapter 10)

Summary: Picks up after your steamy confession that you love Timothée in return.

C/W: NSFW-ish beginning (minors DNI); parent with terminal illness

Catch up on previous chapters here.

Timothée trembled on top of you, barely able to support his weight on his elbows as he came down from the high of his climax.

"You do?" he asked, his tone revealing an air of disbelief.

"Yes. I've known with certainty since the day we went to the lake. I thought I had pushed those feelings aside a long time ago, but obviously the embers never died. I've just been too scared to say it, like that would somehow save me from heartbreak if you change your mind."

He rolled to your side and propped his head up on his hand so he could still look at you. "I haven't changed my mind in 12 years, [Y/N]." He traced your jawline lightly with his fingertips. "Believe me, I have tried many times over the years to convince myself otherwise. You're stuck with me."

"Promise?"

Timothée nodded, nuzzling his nose against your ear. "Can I hear you say it again?" he whispered.

"I love you, Timmy."

His lips crashed down onto yours in response. His free hand landed on your hip, his fingers making indentations in your flesh as he pulled your body to press up against his. This ebb and flow of passion continued throughout the night. When the two of you were finally spent, Timothée clung to you in his sleep as if he were afraid you would disappear.

You stirred when a ray of light from the window hit your face. Waking up next to Timothée after a night of lovemaking was something you had yet to experience. As teens, you were never afforded the opportunity. You took advantage of the chance to take in the features of his peaceful face. In many ways he looked just like he did all of those years ago. The same recognizable jawline, sharp nose, and mop of dark curly hair. But there were subtle differences that you found yourself falling in love with. Laugh lines. Crow's feet. A tiny scar next to his nose. You wondered what story was behind that and made a mental note to ask him later. You found yourself hoping that you would get to stare at this face for the rest of your life.

Your thoughts were interrupted as Timothée began to stir. His eyelids fluttered open, and he smiled as his eyes focused on you.

"Good morning, beautiful," he said, his voice still thick and gravelly with sleep. He pulled you in for a quick kiss.

"Morning." You smiled and sighed.

"Penny for your thoughts?"

You gently shrugged. "I wish I could give you back all the years I wasted."

"Everything happens for a reason, love. The past is the past. What we can do, though, is have fun making up for lost time." He gave you a suggestive look and squeezed your thigh. He acted like he was about to lean in for another kiss, but stopped just short of your lips. "But first, breakfast."

You took in the view as Timothée threw off the blanket and walked naked to the kitchen. You wouldn't mind seeing that for the rest of your life, either.

<><><><><>

After enjoying breakfast in bed, the two of you got dressed and Timothée drove you back to your parents' house. Needing to get back to check on his dad and work in his shop, he dropped you off in front of the house.

Before you got out, he asked, "Hey, why don't you and Madison come over for dinner this evening? Dad would love to see you again and meet Madison. And it would mean a lot to me."

You paused to think through your calendar. "Sure, we can do that. Text me later about the time and what I can bring." You kissed him on the cheek and hopped out of the truck.

Madison was sitting on the couch in the living room when you walked inside. She crossed her arms and glared at you. "Where have you been?"

You found the juxtaposed roles amusing, but tried your best not to show it. "We watched a movie at Timothée's house and fell asleep." Not exactly a lie, but she didn't need the full truth, either. Madison narrowed her eyes at you, but she was satisfied enough with the answer to return to her book.

Your mother watched the entire exchange and covered her mouth to stifle a laugh. You walked past her to the kitchen with a knowing smile on your face. She followed you and asked, "Sooooo, how was your night?"

"Well, like I said, we watched a movie at his place and fell asleep." You laughed nervously and blushed.

"Mm-hmm. I wasn't born yesterday, child."

"It was....good. Really, really good."

She smiled. "Good. You needed to get some."

You scoffed. "Mom!"

"What?! Like I said, I wasn't born yesterday. I called it as soon as he said y'all were going to his place instead of out for dinner." She grinned.

"ANYWAY. Timothée invited Madison and me over to his dad's house for dinner tonight," you interjected, trying to change the subject.

"Must be getting pretty serious if he's bringing y'all home to meet the family," she quipped.

"It's not like I've never met Mr. Chalamet before," you replied insolently.

"Perhaps. But Madison hasn't."

You opened your mouth to rebut, but quickly shut your jaw with a click. She was right, though the realization did not come as a shock. "You're stuck with me" resonated in your head. Timothée was all in at this point. You ducked your head and smiled.

<><><><><>

You returned to the Chalamet's property later that evening with a bottle of wine in hand and daughter close behind you. Timothée met you at your car to give you a chaste kiss and Madison a hug. "Come on inside," he said as he guided the two of you up to the porch.

Mr. Chalamet was waiting at the front door with open arms. "[Y/N]! So good to see you again," he exclaimed as he closed the hug. "And who is this?" He looked at the girl who had half-hidden herself behind Timothée's leg.

You stepped back from the hug and waved her over. "Madison, come meet Mr. Chalamet." You heard him gasp slightly as your daughter revealed herself.

"She looks just like you did as a girl."

"That's exactly what I said the first time I saw her, too," Timothée agreed, setting a hand on Madison's shoulder in reassurance.

She looked up at you in disbelief. "Is there anyone in this town who didn't know you as a kid?" All of you laughed.

Unable to stand for long, Mr. Chalamet returned to his armchair in the living room. You accompanied him and caught him up on the highlights of your time in California while Timothée stepped away to put the finishing touches on dinner. Once Madison helped him set the table and bring out the food, the four of you took your places. Soon you were all reminiscing and laughing at the stories Mr. Chalamet told of Timothée as a boy. You could tell, though, that he was getting tired by the time dessert was served. You and Madison cleared the table while Timothée helped him back to his armchair, then joined them in the living room.

You knelt down in front of him and held his hand. "This has been lovely, Mr. Chalamet. Thank you for having us over."

"Oh, sweet girl. I'm so glad you are back." He nodded past you at Madison, who now stood by Timothée. "You've done a good job with her, my dear. Timothée talks about her all the time."

"Oh, she makes it easy." He gave you a soft smile.

"Will we be seeing more of the two of you, [Y/N]?

You looked at Timothée and smiled before looking back at his dad. "I hope so." You sandwiched Mr. Chalamet's hand between yours and squeezed before standing to leave. Madison shyly waved at him and followed you out the door. Timothée walked the two of you to your car and opened the door for Madison. Before he opened yours, he leaned down to give you a kiss.

"Thank you for this," he said quietly.

"He...seemed to be in good spirits."

"Today was a good day. Those seem to be happening less frequently. He rallied because he wanted to see you two."

You reached up and cupped his cheek. "I see now why you said this would mean a lot to you. I didn't realize he was so..." You were at a loss for words.

"Sick? Yeah. I know it may have seemed a bit premature for this, but I wanted to have, uh..." He looked up at the sky and cleared his throat to will the tears away.

"A family dinner?" you guessed.

Timothée looked down at you and nodded. "I know this is fast and you wanted to take things slowly, but there may not be time and I didn't want to lose the chance to be surrounded by the most important people in my life, those still with us at least. I can't explain just how badly I wanted my dad to meet Madison, especially. I know she's not mine, but I...I love her so much already."

"I know." You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him to you. He rested his head in the crook of your neck and cried.

<><><><><>

Chapter 11

Masterlist

Tag List: @croatianprincess, @bluizh, @jindongdongie, @groovyqueer

Still Here (Chapter 11)

Summary: Madison starts school, you find a job, and your family finds a new normal until Timothée calls you with bad news. You and Madison help him through his loss.

C/W: Death, funeral of a parent/grandparent

Catch up on previous chapters here.

Time flew by after that night as you and your family (including Timothée) found your new normal. Madison started school again and quickly acclimated to her new surroundings. She joined gardening and ukulele clubs and thrived socially and academically.

You stumbled upon a part-time job at the library as a grant writer. You visited frequently to get out of the house and use the wi-fi for job hunting (AKA away from your mother reading over your shoulder). One day, you spotted a flyer on their bulletin board and inquired. They needed help finding funding for more youth and adult programs, and you needed a job and enjoyed writing. It was also flexible enough that you could be available for Madison's school functions. Win-win.

In your excitement, you rushed over to Timothée's place. He stepped out of his workshop at the sound of wheels crunching the gravel. A broad grin painted his face when he saw you get out of the car.

"Hey, baby!" he called as he walked up to you. "This is an unusual time for a visit. Not that I'm complaining, of course." He gave you a quick peck of a kiss.

You set your hands on his shoulders. "Remember that night we were fighting about me leaving for school, and I said I have a lot to offer the world and can't do that from here?"

Timothée paled as his smile dropped, unsure what you were about to say next. "Yeah...?"

"I still have a lot to offer the world, but I finally figured out I can do that from here. For here." You clasped your hands and clapped as you jumped up and down slightly. "I got a job at the library as a grant writer!"

It took a brief moment for Timothée to catch up to what you were saying before he joined you in your excitement. "That's fantastic, babe!" He wrapped you in a nearly crushing hug and spun you around. You beamed up at him when he set you back down.

"It's wonderful to see you so happy," he added as he looked down into your eyes.

"I am happy. The happiest I have been in nearly a decade."

<><><><><>

Things were looking up as you got into the groove of your new job. You and Timothée fell into a rhythm of alternating family dinners with your respective parents and date nights for just the two of you. He was also very intentional about making time to hang out with Madison. Once they discovered their shared love of bowling after he introduced her to the sport, it became their "thing" every Tuesday evening, along with dinner at the diner...

...until the Tuesday after Thanksgiving.

It was odd for Timothée to call or text you during the work day. He was very respectful of giving you space to concentrate on your writing and didn't want to be a distraction. You answered immediately, knowing it must be important.

"Hey, Timmy, what's up?"

You heard him sniffle on the other end of the line. "My dad, he-" He couldn't finish before he was overtaken by sobs, but you knew what we has trying to say. You gasped slightly.

"Timmy, where are you?"

"H-home."

"Stay put. I will be right there." You packed up your things and told your boss you were leaving. You sped to the Chalamet's and went to Timothée's house first. It was dark inside, but that didn't prevent you from banging on the locked door. You were met with silence. Next, you ran over to his dad's house. Thankfully the door was unlocked, allowing you to quietly enter. You found Timothée in the living room curled up in his dad's favorite armchair. You sat on your knees in front of him and buried your fingers in his dark curls.

"Oh, Timmy..."

He looked at you, but his eyes were blank. His voice sounded so tiny as he explained, "Dad was tired, so he went to take a nap when I went out to the workshop. Not abnormal these days. But when I came back to check on him..." He interrupted himself by trying to clear the lump in his throat.

You looked up toward the bedrooms. "Is he..."

Timothée shook his head. "No, uh, he's not here. I called 9-1-1, just in case, but he was gone. The funeral home where he had already made arrangements picked him up. [Y/N], he looked so...peaceful. I hadn't seem him not in pain in years. H-he got his w-wish to die at home in his sleep." His face contorted as he was riddled with sobs once more. You pulled his head to your chest and rubbed soothing circles on his back. Once he calmed back down to an all but catatonic state, you laid his head back down on the armrest and stepped away to call your mother to ask her to pick up Madison from school.

"You should go get Madison," he stated plainly when you returned.

"My mom can go pick her up. I am not leaving you here alone, love."

"Alone," he repeated with a slightly terrified and downcast look.

"Hey now," you responded in a soothing tone as you sank back down to your knees. "Even in the moments when you may be physically by yourself, you are not alone, Timothée Hal Chalamet." You made sure his eyes connected with yours before you continued. "You're stuck with me, remember? You have people who love you and will help you through this." You kissed his forehead before he pushed himself upright into a seated position.

"Thank you," Timothée replied solemnly, almost too quietly for you to even hear.

"I can either stay here tonight, or you can come to our place. Mom already offered."

He nodded, contemplating the options. "I don't want to be here right now, but I'm also not quite ready to leave yet, either."

"I understand. Take your time." You stood and squeezed his shoulder as you walked by to the kitchen. Doing the dishes and taking out the trash seemed like a helpful way to keep yourself occupied while he mentally prepared for next steps. After a while, he joined you in the kitchen. He hugged you from behind and rested his chin on your shoulder as you dried the last of the plates.

"Thank you for dropping everything for me."

You leaned your ahead away from his slightly so you could turn your neck to look at him. "It was an easy decision. You needed me. I am here."

"Dad likes...liked...you a lot, you know." You turned your body all the way around to look at Timothée, though you struggled to hide your tears. "And he was absolutely besotted with Madison. Thank you for all the times you brought her over here for dinner. He enjoyed spending time with both of you. I think...I think he even thought of her as a grandchild by the end." You gave him a warm half-smile and nodded in agreement. "Can we go see her now? It's Tuesday."

You looked at your watch. "She should be home now." You walked with Timothée to his house so he could grab some clothes. He usually wanted to take his truck when the two of you went anywhere, but he relented to letting you drive your car this time.

As expected, your mother was already back from the school. She met the two of you on the porch and embraced Timothée. "I'm so sorry, dear."

"Thank you, Mrs. [L/N]." He heard the screen door shut and looked up to see Madison standing by the porch swing, rubbing one arm with the opposite hand nervously. His face softened as he knelt down and held a hand out to her. Madison stepped forward and took it into her own.

"Hey, kiddo. I'm sorry that we can't go out like normal tonight."

"It's okay," the girl practically whispered. "Nana told me what happened." Her face crumpled as she started to cry. You stepped forward instinctually to comfort your daughter, but instead, she threw her arms around Timothée's neck. He quickly wrapped his arms around her in return. He looked up at you with fat tears welling in the corners of his eyes as he was overcome by a mix of emotions.

You placed a hand over your mouth to hold back your own surge of sobs at the display between your two loves. Your mother stepped to your side and draped her arm around your shoulders. Madison had not yet had to face the pain of losing a grandparent, and while he wasn't one by blood, she had grown close to Mr. Chalamet. This was a hurt you could not shield her from.

Madison pulled away, wiping her nose on her sleeve. "I'm sorry. I got your shoulder wet."

Timothée's lip trembled. "Never apologize for tears, okay?" He cupped her small cheek in his hand and wiped a fresh tear away with his thumb. He pulled her in for another hug, this time for his own comfort.

<><><><><>

The funeral was held a few days later. Timothée walked into your living room in his black suit. Under other circumstances, you would have commented on how handsome he looked. Instead, you stood and straightened his tie. He grabbed your hand and pressed it against his chest.

"Please sit with me when we get there," he said softly. "Both of you."

You nodded. "I will, but I will give Madison a choice. This is the first funeral she has ever attended. Let me go talk to her."

You found her sitting outside on the porch swing in her black dress. "Hey, sweetheart. You doing okay?" you asked as you sat beside her. She just nodded. "Timothée asked us to sit with him at the funeral. He is going to sit on the front row, which is usually where immediate family sits. I want to give you a choice. There are going to be a lot of big emotions in the room."

"I want to be with Timothée. He needs us," she stated like it was the obvious - and only - option.

You kissed her forehead and pulled her to you. "My sweet girl. So selfless. If at any point you get too overwhelmed, you can go find Nana and Pawpaw. Okay?"

<><><><><>

It was a beautiful celebration of life. The townspeople showed up en masse to pay their respects at both the funeral home and graveside service. Madison was a trooper and stayed by Timothée's side the entire time until everyone else had left the cemetery.

You pulled Madison aside and started toward the truck to give Timothée a moment of privacy before the casket was lowered. She followed you hesitantly but lost her will to comply when she heard him start crying. She spun and ran back to him, gingerly slipping her hand into his as they both faced the casket. He looked down, first at their clasped hands and then at Madison's face.

"I didn't want you to be alone."

Tears spilled out of Timothée's eyes as he smiled. "Thanks, kiddo." He dipped down and picked her up for a hug. She clung to him like a baby koala. He stood like that for a moment, staring at his father's coffin over his almost-daughter's shoulder, silently thanking him for showing him how to be a good dad.

<><><><><>

Chapter 12

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@groovyqueer

Still Here (Chapter 13)

Series Finale

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

C/W: mention of deadbeat dad

Catch up on previous chapters here.

>>six weeks after Christmas<<

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Oh." She ducked her head in embarrassment.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

<><><><><><>

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

<><><><><>

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@groovyqueer

15 of Angsty sentence starters for Timmy? Plz

#15: "Are you happy now?"

A/N: I don't think Timothée would actually behave like this, so I included a happier alternate ending.

<><><><><>

Late

"You're late. Again." You glared at Timothée from where you had collapsed on the couch from exhaustion.

"I told you I had a dinner scheduled after today's shoot," he retorted as he took off his shoes by the door.

"But you didn't tell me you'd be out until after midnight." You stood and paced in the living room.

"Lay off, [Y/N]," he growled.

"I recognize that you work all day. And that your career has an inherent social requirement. But I need you to recognize that taking care of YOUR newborn is more than a full-time job. That I don't get to punch a time clock and go home to reset. That we have no family in the area to tag in for help. That I am fucking exhausted!" You lost control of your volume at the end and accidentally woke the baby you had just gotten to sleep 30 minutes ago.

"Are you happy now?!" Timothée gestured toward the nursery. "You have one job, [Y/N]. I work my ass off to make sure you and our daughter want for nothing. Nothing!"

Your daughter's cries got sharper and louder, yet all you could do was slump against the couch and sob. You heard Timothée scoff, grab his keys, and walk back out the door. "I'm not going to listen to this all night."

The scream that wrenched its way from your gut was near animalistic. You folded yourself to the ground, resting your forehead on the floor and covering your ears with your arms. Once your tears were spent, you slowly picked yourself back up. Timothée was right about one thing - you have a job to do, and you'll be damned if your daughter was going to suffer just because she has an asshole father.

<><>Happier Alternate Ending<><>

Your daughter's cries got sharper and louder, yet all you could do was slump against the couch and sob. You heard Timothée's footsteps pad past you to the baby's room. "Shhh, baby girl. Daddy's got you." He shuffled back to the living room, bouncing your daughter in his arms.

"[Y/N], I- I'm sorry," he whispered and sat next to you. "I shouldn't have reacted like that. I've had a long day, but that's no excuse. This- this isn't like you. I know you must be at your wit's end. I'm sorry I let it get this far before seeing it. I'll call my mom to see if she can come stay with us for a few days. We're going to hire some help, at least part time to give you a break when I can't. In a couple of months, we'll be done shooting and I can stay home more, too."

All you could do was nod and sob some more. Timothée opened his free arm and gestured for you to come closer. He wrapped his arm around you as you crawled over and sank into his embrace.

<><><><><>

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Met my friends’s nephews so I got this idea.

Timothee and reader have a baby together and one day both Timothee and the baby are sick and reader is stressed out cuz she’s carrying for both of them all day and night.

Like Father, Like Daughter

Internal monologue in italics.

>> warning: lots of puke <<

A piercing wail amplified by the baby monitor next to my head wrenched me from a deep sleep. I sat up in bed, heart racing. What time is it? I looked around in the dark for the red numbers of the alarm clock. 3:43am. Ugh.

I turned on the monitor's video screen to see Aimée squirming, butt up in the air. Despite my best efforts to make her sleep on her back, she always flipped herself over in the night. Timothée laid next to me, still dead asleep - and also on his stomach. Like father, like daughter, I suppose. Part of me wanted to smack him in the head with a pillow. Misery loves company after all, but I refrained.

I grumbled when I heard more whining. At that point, I knew she wasn't going to fall back to sleep on her own this time. I'm coming, I'm coming. I rubbed my eyes as they adjusted to the light in the hallway. I was nearly knocked over by the putrid smell that hit me like a ton of bricks when I opened Aimée's bedroom door.

Upon seeing me, the little one pulled herself up using the crib rail for support and lifted her arms to beckon me, whimpering. From the ribbon of warm light that gently filled her room from the open door, I could see the source of the smell...

...and Aimée was covered in it.

Oh no.

I held my breath as I picked her up, trying desperately not to gag and add to the mess. She had vomited in the night and rolled in it in her attempts to get comfortable again. Her normally bouncy curls were matted to her head by orange gunk.

"Mamaaaaa....," Aimée groaned.

"I know, baby. We'll get you cleaned up."

I didn't even take two full steps toward the door before she puked down the front of my nightgown. I could feel it dripping onto my foot. Time to call in reinforcements.

I cradled the baby to my chest and padded back to our room. Using my clean foot, I jostled his side of the mattress.

"Timmy!" I whisper-yelled, trying to get his attention without scaring him or the baby. "Timmy!" I tried again, kicking a little harder.

"Huh?" He pushed himself up groggily.

"I need your help. Aimée is sick. Can you change out her sheets while I wash her - well, us - off?"

He responded with a groan and a nod, throwing off the blanket and tossing his feet over the side of the bed. I took Aimée to the bathroom next to her room so I would have her tearless shampoo available. We sat on the floor as we waited for the water to warm up. I carefully peeled off her onesie and my nightgown. I briefly considered just throwing them away rather than attempt to salvage them. When I tried to push her hair back out of her eyes, that's when I felt it. Fever.

I picked her up and gingerly stepped into the tub. I let the warm water flow over us both, hoping it would loosen up the now caked vomit in her hair. I knew she was feeling bad when she just laid there against my chest. Normally, giving her a bath sounded remarkably similar to an exorcism in a horror film.

Without warning, Timothée bolted into the bathroom, startling both of us. Aimée cried as he retched over the toilet.

"Overcome by the smell?" I asked before soothingly shhshing the girl and opening the shower curtain to see.

He spat out the string of saliva dripping from his mouth and looked over at me. I could tell by the unfocused glaze of his eyes and dark circles below that it was more than just sympathetic vomiting.

"Uh oh. Not you, too."

Timothée wordlessly flopped down and leaned against the sink cabinet as I bathed our daughter the best I could while holding onto her. He mustered up the energy to bring me towels and help me step out of the tub once done. He took the bundled baby into his arms so I could dry myself off and put on my robe. I took it as a chance to feel his forehead. He leaned into my touch.

"Dammit. Must be that stomach bug going around."

Ugh, why today of all days? I whined internally. I have an important meeting at 8:30 that I really can't postpone. Maybe if I...

My thoughts were interrupted by Timothée quickly handing Aimée back to me so he could puke once more.

No choice but to reschedule. He won't be able to care for the baby in this state.

I held Aimée on one hip and helped Timothée up from the floor with my other hand. "Time to get the two of you back to bed."

"I changed her sheets, but some vomit had spilled over to the crib rails and carpet. Her room smells awful," he said quietly, as the baby was nodding off on my shoulder. "I'm already sick, and you've already been exposed, so she may as well sleep in our bed. We can take care of her room in the morning."

I laughed internally at his use of "we." This was probably going to take at least 24 hours to run its course based on recent tales from friends and family. And historically, Timothée was a big baby when sick. This was the first time I had to care for them both at the same time.

Once he laid back down in bed, I followed suit and placed Aimée between us. They were both out like a light. I tried to sleep, but my wired brain kept running through my to-do list. I got up and made a makeshift bumper out of pillows to keep Aimée from rolling off the bed. Timothée was curled protectively around her on the opposite side. I would enjoy the cuteness more if I weren't so damned tired.

I set to work hosing off the bedding and clothes outside before putting them in the washing machine. I placed a delivery order for crackers, gingerale, and electrolyte drinks for both sickies. I wiped down the crib and all commonly touched surfaces and all but gassed the house with disinfectant spray. I got out my trusted enzyme cleaner and carpet spot cleaning machine to take care of the spillover. I was focused on that - and nearly done - when my normal morning alarm went off. I rushed to the bedroom to shut it off, praying that it didn't wake my patients.

They didn't budge. And I never went back to sleep. At this rate, I may as well stay up.

I finished the carpet, switched out the laundry, and anxiously started cleaning the kitchen. When the business day began at 8:00am, I started making phone calls to reschedule meetings for the day. Of course, Aimée waited until I was on the phone to start crying. With my phone to my ear, I started walking to the bedroom when I saw Timothée exit, carting the baby to her room to change her diaper. "Thank you," I mouthed. He nodded and half-smiled.

When I hung up a couple of minutes later, I peeked in to check on them. Timothée was humming as Aimée babbled back at him from the changing table.

"I know you're back there. I need to put WD-40 on those squeaky hinges," he joked. I crossed the room and put my chin on his shoulder to gaze down at our daughter.

"Did you ever go to sleep?" he asked, knowing the answer. I silently shook my head. "I figured that when I saw that her room was clean." He shot me a fake stern look.

"I was wired and couldn't settle," I said, trying but failing to stifle a yawn. "She seems to be feeling at least a little better. How about you?"

"I feel drained, but not awful. You should take advantage and go rest while you can. I heard you call into work." He picked the baby up and set her down on the floor to crawl and play.

I shook my head. "I need to wait for the grocery delivery and make you breakfast."

"Or, let me make breakfast while I actually have some energy, and you can handle lunch," he argued. "Go, sneak out while she's distracted."

I had to admit his proposal was appealing. "Promise to wake me if you need me?"

"I promise, love. Now go."

<><><><><>

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You know how everyone thinks Timothee looked sick/tired during the Dune event last night? Maybe a fic where he’d actually not feeling well and has to miss it and he’s extremely bummed but reader wants to him to rest because he’s been working so hard for his next project Marty supreme and it’s taking a lot out of him. Physically and mentally.

Thx ☺️ love you 😘

🥰 I hope you don't mind a slight tweak where he did go to the event but came home wiped out and irritable.

Written from female reader perspective.

Most Meaningful Role

You could sense Timothée's foul mood before he even reached the front door after the Dune 2 Q&A. It was evident in the little things - the speed at which he pulled into the driveway, how hard he shut the car door, the muffled growl when he dropped his keys trying to get inside. If he was a cartoon, you would have seen a little dark storm cloud floating above his head.

IG credit: tchallamett

The aura of the room changed dramatically as he stepped across the threshold. He never even verbally responded to your greeting. Instead, he flopped down on the couch next to you and laid his head on your lap.

You softly gazed down at the boy turned friend turned love of your life, trying to exude calming vibes to counter his ire. You noticed the purple circles ghosting his eyes masked the beautiful constellations of freckles you adored. Out of habit, you extended your hand to play with his hair, but you hesitated ever so slightly due its new shortness before diving into the longer locks at the top.

Timothée noticed, rolled his eyes, and sighed heavily. "I know, I know, my fans don't like it either."

You gently tugged his hair to turn his face toward you. "They don't understand how much you sacrifice for your roles. How much you put your heart and soul - and health - into your craft. I- I'm worried about you."

He scoffed. "I'm fine."

"No, you're not. You are exhausted all the time. I don't even remember the last time you came home happy. The last time you had the energy to go out on a date or a walk in the park or..."

You were interrupted by a low, exasperated grumble. Timothée sat up quickly and walked away from you to the kitchen island, all but slumping as he leaned with all his weight on outstretched arms on the counter's ledge.

Fed up, you continued. "Remember. I was here, watching you starve yourself for Beautiful Boy. I was here as you went straight from Bones and All to Wonka to Dune 2 to ACU, and now Marty, watching as your poured your energy into your fans and work instead..." you paused, unsure whether you should continue down this path. "Instead of us. I can't believe they still have you doing press for Dune anyway. Isn't it a bit overplayed by now?"

You instantly cringed, knowing you had crossed a line as you saw his shoulders tense, which blunted your surprise as Timothée slammed his hands down onto the cold marble counter with enough force to rattle the silverware in the drawers below. He turned on his heel, insult clearly written on his face.

"Over-? Guess which movies paid for that brand new car of yours in the driveway, huh? Or this house?!" he snapped back heatedly.

"Timmy, I-"

He held up his palm to cut you off. "No! I had to listen to you rant. Now you get to listen. Acting is the ONLY thing I feel a little bit good at. Take that away, and I-" his voice faltered. "I have nothing," he finished quietly.

In the deafening silence that followed, you visibly deflated, shrinking into yourself and hugging your knees on the couch.

"That's - UGH!" Timothée groaned and scrubbed a hand down his face. As you stared down at the plush carpet, you saw him tentatively pad closer in your peripheral vision. He sank to his knees when he reached the couch, looking up to lock eyes with you.

"That is *not* what I meant, Peach," he stated in a much calmer tone. "Without acting, I- I have nothing to offer. To you. The world. This face," he said, pointing to his own, "won't last forever. I have to make the most of it while I still look young."

"You're going to age prematurely if you keep up your current pace," you quipped tersely, breaking his gaze by moving your head to rest your chin on your elbow. "It won't be the end of the world to be typecast into the settled and married dad role, especially if that is what you are."

Your heart was nearly beating out of your chest. This wasn't how you wanted to tell him, but your emotions got the best of you.

Timothée sat back slightly. "I'm not a..."

You could almost hear the gears turning in his head. You shifted to look at him once again, your eyes now bloodshot from holding back tears.

"Dad?" he breathed.

You nodded. "I took a test this morning. Wanted to tell you when you got home."

"Oh. Oh, Peach! That's- I- " Timothée stammered. "You- we- we're going to have a baby?" he repeated with bewildered excitement. He practically launched himself from the floor, throwing his arms around you and peppering your cheeks with kisses while you laughed. He pulled back and held your face in his large hands, gently wiping a stray tear from the corner of your mouth with his thumb.

It was heartwarming to see genuine happiness light up his face once again, even if just for a fleeting moment before his eyes fell to the ground. "This should have been a happy occasion, but you are probably going to look back at this moment and just remember me yelling at you. One of the most important moments of your life, OUR lives, and I stole the wind from your sails." Now it was his turn to cry as he rested his forehead on your knees.

You gave him a moment to wallow, using the time to carefully think through what you wanted to say. You carded your fingers through his chocolate locks. "Timmy, you will *have* to slow down and take care of yourself if you are going to play a meaningful role in your child's life and mine. Pun intended. Is- is that still a role you want?"

Timothée moved to rest his chin on your knee so he could look up at you with his red-rimmed puppy eyes. "More than anything."

He pushed himself up from the floor to sit beside you on the couch. "May I?" he asked nervously, gesturing his hand toward your stomach. The corners of your mouth pulled into a soft smile as you nodded, to which he replied with a huge grin. *This* was how you had pictured this moment.

Timothée gingerly placed his hand on your belly and laid his head on your shoulder, idly rubbing semicircles with his thumb. He exhaled a contented sigh while you resumed watching the sitcom his arrival interrupted. Within just a few minutes, his idle movements ceased, and soft snoring began. Amused, you rested your cheek against the soft pillow of curls atop his head.

"Rest while you can, love," you whispered as you laid your hand on top of Timothée's on your stomach and let out a contented sigh of your own.

<><><><><>

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An extra scnce idea for still here

Timothee gets sick and cancels their usual date night or night out with Madison and Y/N and Madison go to his house to find out why and then they take care of him 🥺

I have tried for months to draft this true to what was requested, but I was facing a mental block until I switched it to Madison being ill - then it just took off from there. Hope you still enjoy all the same.

Still Here (+3)

Summary: Timothée goes into dad mode when Madison is sick. Takes place after his dad has passed, so he doesn't have to worry about taking germs home. Post-engagement.

A/N: There are scenes I had in mind for my Still Here series that just didn't quite fit cleanly into any of the chapters, so I decided to add some "deleted scenes" for my loyal fans. Catch up on the main storyline here.

The sound of the phone vibrating against the wooden top of your computer desk interrupted your train of thought as you knocked out a grant application for the library. You looked down to see the dreaded words "School Nurse" displayed on the illuminated screen.

"Hello?" you answered tentatively, already standing to grab your keys and purse. These calls were never good, especially midday.

"Hi, is this Madison's mom?"

"Yes, it is."

"This is Bethany, the school nurse. Madison came to my office because she isn't feeling well. She has a cough, stuffy nose, and a headache. She's also running a fever. Are you able to come pick her up?"

"Poor girl. I'm leaving work now. I should be there in about 15 minutes."

After ending the call and giving the library director a heads up, you called Timothée while on your quick jaunt to the car.

"Hey, baby. What's up?" You rarely called to just say hello in the middle of the work day, so of course, he immediately asked what was going on.

"Hey, just got a call from the school nurse. Maddy is sick, so I am heading to the school to pick her up." You got into the car and shut the door behind you.

"Is she okay?" His voice surrounded you, concern evident, as the audio transferred to the car speakers.

"Sounds like standard viral stuff for this time of year. She should be fine with some medicine and rest. But she won't be able to go out with you tonight. Poor thing. She's going to be so disappointed to miss Timothée Tuesday." Despite the stress, a fond smile graced your lips at the name Maddy had lovingly coined for their regular "date" nights.

"Aww. Well, maybe I can still bring her a treat, if that's okay with you."

"That's so sweet, but you'll run the risk of getting sick, too."

"No more than you. It takes a village, remember? Let your village step in and help. Especially while your parents are out of town," Timothée chided.

"Yes, I know. You are right," you replied with feigned attitude. "Hey, I just pulled up to the school, so I need to let you go. Let me know when you are heading over."

You barely parked the car before jumping out and running to the main door, pressing the buzzer and shifting your weight impatiently from one foot to another as you waited to be let inside. When you walked in, you spotted Madison slumped in an armchair through the rectangular window of the nurse's door. The girl livened up a little when she looked up at the sound of your voice.

You held out your arms to her invitingly once you signed her out, gingerly feeling her forehead with your cheek as you embraced her. The nurse informed you that she needed to be fever-free for at least 24 hours before returning. You draped your arm around Maddy's shoulders as you both turned to walk out the door. "Welp, looks like you and I get to play hooky tomorrow," you teased in an attempt to lighten the mood. Madison just wordlessly nodded.

Once you arrived at your parents' house, she voluntarily went straight to bed after downing medicine and a glass of water. Your phone buzzed in your pocket shortly after with a text notification:

"Leaving Hartley now. Need me to pick up anything? How is she?"

"She went straight to bed, if that tells you anything. Can you pick up some liquid child cold medicine? I gave her the last dose of daytime medicine I have on hand."

"On it. I'll be there as quickly as I can."

"No rush. She can't have another dose for at least 4 hours anyway. Thanks, love."

About 30 minutes later, Timothée sent you a picture.

"Is this the right stuff? I didn't know there were so many options."

"Right stuff, but do they have any other flavor?"

"I thought she likes grapes?"

"She does, just not grape medicine."

"Ah, ok. Bubblegum or berry?"

"Bubblegum."

"Got it. Need anything else?"

"Nope, I think I have everything else."

"K. I should be there in about 20 minutes."

You replied with a heart emoji and got to work on washing the dishes and picking up around the house as an outlet for your nervous energy. Timothée let himself in and set down the bags on the kitchen island. You rewarded him with a sweet peck on the cheek. "Thank you for your help."

He smiled softly then started unloading the bags. "Here's the medicine, and I also got your favorite candy bar because I figured you would be a little stressed."

"You know me so well." You kissed him on the cheek again, never tiring of the slight dust of pink blush that always appeared without fail. "What's in the brown bag?"

"Oh, I called ahead to the diner and they made a fresh batch of Maddy's favorite ooey gooey rice krispie treats just for her. Timed it just right so they were ready after I stopped at the pharmacy across the street. Mandy said to give you her best and that she hopes Maddy feels better soon."

I can't believe this guy is mine, you thought to yourself. "You are so good to her. To us," you praised.

He shrugged and blushed once more. "I love you both. Of course I'm going to take care of my girls. She still asleep?"

You were about to respond when out of the corner of your eye you spotted Madison slowly shuffle into the kitchen, mechanically grabbing for a glass for water. Timothée turned when you nodded toward her direction.

"Hey, kiddo. How are you feeling?"

She grumbled incoherently and held her arms out to him like a walking zombie, resting her face against his torso when she reached him. One more growth spurt and she'd likely be up to his shoulders soon.

Timothée wrapped his arms around her to complete the hug. "I swung by the diner and picked up rice krispie treats. Figured I'd bring date night to you."

You heard a muffled "thank you" as she spoke into his shirt. She looked over at the bag. "I- I think I'll have one later." He clasped the back of her head gently with his large hand and looked up at you in shock. He had never seen her like this before, unwell to the point of refusing her favorite snack.

Tilting her head back to look up at Timothée, she whined, "I'm sorry that we can't go out."

He responded with a gentle boop to her nose. "Hey, none of that. I had a long day, too, so chilling on the couch to watch a movie sounds amazing. What do you say?"

"Can we watch Spider-man?" she asked with a weak smile, perking up at the idea.

"Sure! I mean, uh, if it's okay with your mom. It is PG-13." They both looked over to you with puppy eyes. You weren't as big of a fan of comic-based movies as they were.

"Oh, alright. Why don't y'all go get it started while I get supper going?"

As they walked off, you heard him question, "Alright, so which universe should we start with? Tom Holland, Tobey Mag-" until their voices faded into living room.

You set to work retrieving all the necessary ingredients for the casserole you had planned for tomorrow since you expected them to be out that evening. Once it was in the oven, you strolled into the living room to check on them. Maddy had fallen asleep again, this time with her head on Timothée's shoulder.

"She sat still too long," he whispered after pausing the movie. "She didn't even make it past the opening scene."

You pouted your lip slightly as you took in just how comfortable Madison looked with her self-proclaimed "bonus dad." Her bio dad was never this good or patient with her when she wasn't feeling well. But you knew Timothée would sit in that position all night if that is what she needed. You stepped toward them to help him from his confines, but he waved you off.

"Let her sleep until dinner is ready. I'm fine." A shit-eating grin then flashed across his face. "You know, you could join me and watch your favorite neighborhood Spider-man."

"Which one did y'all settle on?"

"Tobey. I figured we should start at the beginning."

"At the peak, you mean?" you replied with a smirk.

"Wha- oh, so you DO like Spider-man; you're just a purist," he countered.

"I'm just saying I've never had a crush on Andrew or Tom like I did on Tobey."

His jaw dropped. "That movie came out while we were in high school. How did I not know about this?"

"A woman has a right to her secrets. Besides, I wasn't going to ogle my celebrity crush in front of my boyfriend!" you teased.

"Your fiancé now." He smiled cheesily.

You leaned down for a quick kiss and nuzzle to the nose. "Yes, my now fiancé. Ah, saved by the bell!"

At the behest of the oven timer, you quickly returned to the kitchen. You set the table and dished out the first serving. Timothée nudged Madison awake and walked behind as she shuffled to the table.

She slumped lethargically into her chair and slowly began to eat - more like poking her food around versus actual eating. When you gave her a pointed look, she responded, "I'm just not hungry. I can't taste it."

Pity washed over your face and Timothée's. "Alright, take three more bites so you have at least some nourishment. You'll need energy to get better. I can give you more medicine in about an hour, then you can go to bed."

After dinner, Timothée and Madison continued the movie while you cleaned up the dishes. You could tell the earlier dose of medicine was wearing off. She shifted frequently, trying to get comfortable, and let out the occasional whimper as the fever returned.

You dosed Madison with nighttime cold medicine about 30 minutes before the end of the movie, but she fell asleep again with 10 minutes left. Timothée chuckled and deftly picked the girl up from the couch and carried her to her bed.

"Do you want me to stay tonight?" he whispered to you as he shut the door and stepped back into the hallway.

"But you have to...," you started to respond, but the look of disapproval on his face shut you up.

"You know I own my own business, so if you are going to say, 'But you have to work tomorrow,' that's not a good reason. So I'll ask again. Do you want me to stay tonight? Yes or no."

"Yes," you replied with a cheeky grin. He leaned down and kissed your forehead, but pulled back with his face scrunched with concern.

"Are *you* feeling alright?"

"Me? I- I feel a little run down and a bit stressed, but otherwise, I'm okay. Why?"

Timothée looked at you skeptically. "You just feel a little warm to the touch. Come on, let's get you to bed, too."

You changed into pajamas and got settled in bed. Timothée followed suit after turning off the lights. Nestled into comfort of his arms, you quickly succumbed to your exhaustion.

Hours later, you were ripped awake by a gnarly cough that wasn't from you. Heart racing, you sat up to see Timothée sitting on the edge of the bed, softly illuminated by the lamp on the nightstand. Next to him stood your daughter, blonde hair pasted to her forehead with sweat.

"Is it alright if I give her more medicine?" he asked. You nodded after confirming enough time had passed, and Timothée stood to lead Madison to the kitchen.

"I can do it," you muttered sleepily, grasping at the blanket to toss it to the side.

"I've got it. And I'm going to grab you some medicine and a thermometer, too, once she's settled. You're like a furnace."

Too tired to argue, you snuggled back down under the covers. You knew Madison was in good hands and fell back to sleep before he returned. When you next woke again, you spotted a glass of water and some cold medicine tablets on your nightstand. Timothée sat next to you, resting against the headboard while reading a book from your shelf.

"Since you have that forehead thermometer, I took your temp while you were asleep. You are officially sick, too."

You groaned. "Fantastic," you retorted sarcastically. "Is Maddy still asleep?"

"I haven't heard her stir yet. Once she's up, I'll make y'all some breakfast."

You smiled. "Thank you for staying to help."

"In sickness and in health, right?"

You chuckled. "We aren't married yet, silly."

"Just a formality, babe."

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