Timothee X Reader - Tumblr Posts
Sickfic/Hurt/Comfort Any Timothee character of your choice :)
On Edge
Summary: Lee saves eater!reader from themselves.
C/W: Suicidal ideation
One last sunset. That was your last wish. You had spent all day driving to a spot you knew had a great western view. At last, you stood on the precipice of the tallest point in the state just in time to watch the sun sink below the horizon. A slight breeze swept your hair behind you and cooled the tears on your cheeks. The air was fragrant from the wildflowers that bloomed below.
You heard a twig snap behind you. You startled and jolted, knocking rocks off the cliff's edge as you turned toward the noise. The amount of time it took to hear them hit the bottom made your resolve waiver slightly. In the dimming light, you saw a lanky figure with curly red hair emerging from the woods.
"Whoa there. I'm not going to hurt you," a tenor voice called out. He walked slowly toward you, with a slight crouch to his step and a hand held out, like he was trying to calm a scared feral kitten. "What brings you to the edge of the Earth?"
"A fitting end for reaching my limits, is it not?"
A brief flash of sadness (and was that...recognition?) flitted across his face. "My name is Lee. What's yours?"
"[Y/N]."
"Well, [Y/N], if you jump, I jump," he stated matter-of-factly.
"That's insane. You would die, too!" you exclaimed in disbelief.
"Well, I can't turn away now. I'm involved," he said flatly as he set down his pack. "But maybe you can fill me in on why we have to die today?"
You looked over your shoulder back at the sunset. "I- I just can't do it anymore. My family wants nothing to do with me. I k-keep screwing things up, so I can't stay in one place long enough to make new friends. I'm...too different."
"I know. So am I." Lee gestured to himself. "This may sound weird," he paused, "but I could smell you from miles away."
"Smell me?" you asked incredulously.
Lee nodded. "Food just doesn't cut it for you, does it? You feel a deep ache down to your core until you...feed?"
You paled. Conversations about your eating habits usually required you to flee. You stepped back reflexively and lost your footing.
"[Y/N]!" Lee screamed and lunged forward to grab your hand as you slid off the edge. You cried and screamed, clawing at the rocks with your free hand until you were able to grab his arm. He pulled you back to safety and clutched you to his chest.
You shook like a leaf in his embrace. "I- I thought I was the only one." You felt him shake his head as he rested his cheek on your hair.
"You are not alone." You heard his voice catch as if he were crying. "Let me prove it to you. I will spend the rest of my life trying to prove it to you, if you'll let me."
<><><><><>
Masterlist
A/N: slight inspiration taken from the jumping scene of Titanic
A sick Lee maybe on a road trip to a vacation spot and he starts feeling unwell during the drive and he worries about ruining all the fun they are supposed to have but Reader reassures him and they still end up having a good time even though Lee is ill
Thanks 😊 love you 😘
Love you, too!
Anywhere
You were walking along the corn field's edge, stretching your legs after the long hours in the truck, when suddenly you felt strong arms grab you from the side and pull you into a near crushing hug. Your shriek was cut short by a hand over your mouth.
"Gotcha!" the source of your favorite voice in the world teased. Lee pecked you on the cheek, then let you free. You playfully scowled at him and punched him in the arm as you caught your breath.
"You really ought to pay more attention to your surroundings. I could have been a predator, you know," Lee continued. He let out a cute growl and crouched like he was about to pounce. But instead, he grabbed your hand and pulled you down to lay in the tall stalks and stare at the clouds. The two of you spent several minutes in companionable silence, hidden from the world, just holding hands, before he rolled over on his side to look at you.
"If you could go absolutely anywhere in the Lower 48, where would you go?" he asked, twirling a finger into a strand of your loose hair.
You bit your lip and looked up at the clear blue sky in thought. A wave of excitement flashed across your face and disappeared just as quickly.
"You made your idea face. Where is it?" he prodded.
You sat up and hugged your knees. "It's too far," you lamented.
"Just tell me." He looked up at you with an irresistible pout.
"Well...I've always wanted to see Niagara Falls since I was a little girl and saw it on a postcard."
Lee flashed a big grin and ran to the passenger side of the truck, all but ripping the glove box open to retrieve his map. He buried his face in it on his walk back and nearly tripped over an uneven patch of ground. You giggled, and he glared. Once Lee settled back into his spot next to you, his long, thin index finger set to work tracing the lines of the interstate highways from your current spot in the Midwest.
"We could be there tomorrow if we leave now, just in time for your birthday!" Lee exclaimed.
"Really?!" you replied in disbelief.
"Anything for my girl." He leaned in and planted a soft kiss on your lips.
You blushed and dropped your head onto Lee's shoulder. You felt him rest his cheek on your hair as he let out a quiet, contented sigh.
<><><><><>
Soon, the two of you were back on the road. Lee was singing along with George Strait's "Amarillo by Morning" when he was interrupted by a cough. You pulled out your bottle of water to let him have a drink.
"Thanks. Just got a tickle in my throat." He cleared his throat several more times over the next hour or two. When the coughing flared again, you took over driving.
"Are you feeling okay?" you asked worriedly when he got back into the truck.
"I'm fine. Just tired." You thought you detected some congestion in his tone.
"Here. Drink more water," you instructed as you handed him the bottle once more.
"Yes, ma'am," he quipped sarcastically. He sank down in his seat, though, when you pursed your lips and raised an eyebrow at him. He then proceeded to take a swig.
As you drove, Lee's coughing worsened and his nose began to run. The poor thing shivered in his sleep as he leaned against the passenger door despite the summer heat. He didn't wake until he felt the truck come to a stop three hours later.
"Why are we at a motel?" he asked groggily and rubbed his eyes.
"I need to stop and you need to rest," you replied.
"We should keep driving."
"No, you can't get good, recuperative rest while sitting up in the truck, even if I drive. And I am dangerously close to dozing off. Give me the stash of money so I can go get us a room."
Lee just stared at you. He was used to making the plans and calling the shots.
"Give. Me. The. Stash," you repeated in a stilted tone.
His deep huff sent him into another coughing fit. He wordlessly caved and handed you the wad of cash from his boot as he caught his breath. You left him in the truck to walk into the office to retrieve keys.
One bright side of your lifestyle was traveling light, so you could focus on helping Lee inside without making multiple trips to the truck. He collapsed on the bed, fully clothed. You worked the boots off his feet and pulled the covers over his body. Your hand instantly recoiled at the heat radiating from his forehead when you checked for fever. You quickly grabbed a washcloth from the bathroom, wet it down, and gently wiped his forehead and neck to provide him with some cooling relief.
Lee's eyes fluttered open, and he greeted you with a strained half smile. "We need to get back on the road early in the morning to stick to our timeline," he rasped.
"Let's worry about that in the morning," you whispered. You sat beside him on the bed and ran pushed the damp hair from his forehead. "We're not going anywhere as long as you are feverish."
"But-" he started to argue.
"But nothing. And if you are about to bring up my birthday, it's just another day."
"You only turn 20 once. No longer a teenager." He grinned and gently tapped your nose with his finger before letting his arm flop back to the bed.
"Only you are worried about that, old man," you teased. It had been a personal point of moral contention for Lee that he, a man in his 20s, was dating a quote-unquote teenaged girl. But he was enchanted by you ever since he met you at the county fair last year, right before your 19th birthday.
Lee feigned offense by narrowing his eyes at you, but his playfulness was overriden by another round of coughing.
"I'm going to walk over to the grocery store to get you some cough drops and cold medicine," you said in response, tucking him in tightly under the blanket. "Just lay here and try to rest more while I'm out."
The trip to the store was quick, but Lee was already sound asleep when you returned. You let him rest and snuggled up beside him in bed. Every now and then, you felt him shiver as his fever flared, and another round of chills shook his body. You were grateful, though, that his coughing subsided for a while, allowing him a few hours of solid rest until he woke you from deep slumber with his violent hacking around 2am.
You dosed him with cold medicine and turned on a hot shower in hopes that the steam would ease his breathing. He sat in the bathtub floor as you lathered shampoo and rinsed his hair and did your best to wash the sweat off his body. He weakly toweled himself off with your help.
"How are you feeling?" you asked from your perch on the bathroom counter as he sat on the edge of the tub. You scanned his face and observed the dark purple circles under his eyes and shakiness of the hand that ran through his hair.
"A little more human than earlier," he replied quietly. His voice was a little less gravelly thanks to the humidity in the bathroom.
You smirked. "That's good. I got us some snacks at the store. You should at least nibble on something before you go back to bed to keep up your strength."
"I feel wide awake. We can get back on the road and drive for a while."
"You should really get more rest, Lee. Otherwise, it may catch up with you while we're out in the middle of nowhere."
"I can't rest knowing that we have somewhere to be. Besides, I can either be miserable in bed, or miserable and at least making progress toward our destination."
You just blinked at him and sighed deeply. "Are you sure you feel up to it?" You felt his forehead. At least he wasn't running a fever. He simply nodded in return and leaned into your touch.
You narrowed your eyes at him skeptically. "Okay. Fine. But if we have to stop in the middle of the forest because you get worse, I swear you are never going to hear the end of it."
Lee chuckled and stood from his seat. "I would expect nothing less." He placed a hand on your cheek and kissed your forehead as he scooted by you to open the door. You crossed your arms and shook your head, though you temporarily distracted from your ire when Lee's towel dropped, revealing those perfect buns of his.
He walked out of the bathroom and noted the time on the alarm clock by the bed. He turned back to you and grinned. "Happy birthday, love."
<><><><><>
Thanks to your lack of luggage, the two of you were back on the road quickly as soon as Lee was dressed again. He opted to drive so you could get some more sleep since you had stayed up caring for him. You didn't argue because you could barely keep your eyes open.
A few hours later, you woke to the sound of Lee coughing again. You squirmed in your seat and blinked the sleep from your eyes. "Where are we?" you asked groggily.
"Ohio. We just crossed the state line a few minutes ago," Lee replied. The hoarseness had returned.
"How are you feeling?"
"I'll be fine for a little while longer, then we can just switch out driving."
"If you want to pull over, I can drive now after a short bathroom break."
"No offense, but you drive too slow. That's fine most of the time, but right now we are on a deadline."
"Wha- my driving is just fine!" You crossed your arms and pouted. He looked over at you and pulled a face, which broke your ire and made you laugh. You could never stay mad at him for long. He laughed, but the exertion instigated a coughing fit.
"Pull over," you demanded.
"Not yet," he replied once he recovered his breath.
"You need to rest. Otherwise, you won't be able to enjoy the falls with me. That matters more to me than seeing them alone." Ha. You knew that would play on his feelings.
Lee paused and released a deep sigh. "Fine. But we keep going. I can rest just fine in the passenger seat."
"Deal," you replied, flashing him a grin.
He pulled over into a wooded alcove so you could both get out and stretch. You tossed the cold medicine toward him. He winced.
"This stuff tastes disgusting, you know," Lee complained.
"Anything for your girl, right?" You winked, and he grumbled - but he complied.
You took over driving for the next stretch of the trip. Lee quickly fell asleep, hugging his legs and using his knees as a pillow. Before getting back into the truck, he had shown you the upcoming turns on the map, but you wouldn't need to turn for at least 100 miles - long enough to forget the specifics. You unknowingly took a wrong turn and followed the highway south, when you should have been traveling northeast. Lee came to a few hours later and asked how far you had gone.
"I'm not sure. The last town I saw was Fremont."
He frowned and snatched the map, frantically searching for the grid coordinates for the town. His face dropped. "[Y/N], we are heading away from New York now."
"B- but I took the road you said."
"We needed to turn off this highway about an hour ago."
You felt the blood drain from your face. "Oh," was all you could muster. You pulled over at the next driveway, jumped out of the truck, and slammed the door. Lee met you at the tailgate.
"Please don't yell at me." You cringed as you saw the disappointment in his face.
"Yell? Oh, babe, I'm not mad at you. I'm mad at myself. If we hadn't stopped at the motel last night, we would be making great time. And if I hadn't been asleep, you wouldn't have missed your turn. I have single-handedly ruined your birthday." He kicked the tire to release some frustration.
You laid one hand on his arm and the other on the opposite cheek to encourage him to look at you. "Shouldn't I be the judge of that? Anywhere you are is exactly where I should be. We may not be where I hoped to be, but that doesn't matter as long as I'm with you. It's okay if we don't make it by midnight. I'd rather get there late than get there stressed. I'd like to enjoy all the places along the way that I've never been."
The two of you continued on at a much more leisurely pace, stopping when one or both of you needed to rest. You hit the New York state line right at midnight, marking the end of your birthday - but seeing Niagara Falls at sunrise more than made up for the delay. You stared out over the chasm and took it all in. The oranges and pinks of the skies were like a painting that belonged in a museum. The falls roared, and the mist tickled your face like thousands of tiny carresses.
"It's surreal. So beautiful," you whispered.
"Yes, it is."
You felt him take your left hand, but when you turned to look at his face, it wasn't where you expected.
He was down on one knee.
You gasped and covered your mouth with your free hand. You started nodding fervently.
Lee laughed. "I haven't even asked the question yet, love."
"Well, hurry up!"
"Oh, so *now* you are in a hurry," he teased, then cleared his throat. "I don't have a ring yet, but I can't wait another day to ask if you will be my travel companion for the rest of our lives."
You sniffled, and the tears overflowed from your eyes. You continued to nod. "Yes, Lee. Yes! Wherever you go, I go." He picked you up, spun you around, and planted a yearning kiss on your lips...
...and then started coughing. You laughed and guided him to the nearest bench.
"We got an early start on putting 'in sickness and in health' to the test," you teased.
<><><><><>
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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.
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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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https://www.tumblr.com/roxygen22/750844187588673536/send-me-a-number-and-ill-write-a-micro-story
29- Sweat for Timothee
Micro Story Prompt
This was supposed to be a micro story, but I got a little carried away. Written from female reader first person POV.
Sweat
Smut, oral, unprotected p-in-v sex; minors DNI
"The boys invited me to play some basketball. Want to come along and be my cheerleader?" Timothée asked. He came up behind me in the kitchen and kissed my cheek as I washed the dishes.
"No, that's okay. Go enjoy time with your friends." The thought of some alone time was truly appealing. I recently bought some undereye gel patches that I really wanted to try out. Those plus a nice soak in the tub sounded delightful.
"But baby, it's been over a month since I was last home," he whined.
"Exactly why you should go hang out with them. You've been with me 24/7 for the past week since you've been back in town. We will both survive a few hours apart, I promise." I turned and grabbed a towel to dry my hands.
"Please, babe?" Timothée put on his irresistible pouty face that I always fall for hook, line, and sinker. And he knows it.
"Oh, alright. Let me go get dressed," I replied with a resigned tone.
The master manipulator grinned. I quickly twisted up the towel to playfully pop him on the back of the leg as I passed by. Can't let him get too cocky. I got a lot of satisfaction from his cute little yelp.
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I don't find watching sports all that entertaining, but I figured it would at least give me some time to hammer away at some fanfiction I've been stuck on while I sat in the bleachers.
I was so wrong.
After we arrived, I was soon distracted by how fluidly Timothée moved on the court. His lanky body bobbed and weaved through his buddies' advances effortlessly. It was almost like a choreographed dance. I also noticed how the sheen of sweat he built up endowed him with an other-worldly glow in the sunlight.
About 30 minutes later, he jogged over to me and held his hand out.
"I'm thirsty."
"So am I," I blurted out without thinking. "I mean, uh, yeah, of course, it's warm out. Here." Flustered and blushing, I handed Timothée his water bottle. He raised an eyebrow and then broke out into a boyish grin, obviously picking up on what I didn't mean to say.
"Enjoying yourself, then?"
"You're just a better player than I thought is all."
"Uh huh, okayyyy," he dragged out in obvious sarcasm. He bent down so that his mouth was level with my ear and whispered, "I'll make you glad you came." He pulled back and winked, then trotted back to the court after handing his bottle back to me.
I stared after Timothée slack-jawed and slowly released the breath that I didn't even know I was holding. If we weren't in public, I would have jumped him right then. A fact of which he was well aware, judging by the smirks and winks he sent my way as he ran by.
When the game was over and goodbyes were shared, we walked to Timothée's car and headed home. The inside of the car was quickly overpowered by the musky smell of his sweat and pheremones. I felt a familiar heat begin to grow between my legs when he laid his hand on my thigh as he drove. The 20-minute trip was sheer agony.
<><><><><>
"Shower. Now," I demanded as we entered the apartment. I was so needy that I couldn't even form complete sentences. I began stripping my clothes off before the door was even locked behind us. Timothée quickly followed suit, never taking his eyes off my naked form. I straddled his waist and crossed my arms behind his neck as he picked me up and carried me to the bathroom. He fumbled with the shower curtain and faucet, not bothering to break from our sloppy kissing to see what he was doing.
Timothée set me down on the bathroom counter while we waited for the water to heat. His mouth moved hungrily over my body, first to my neck, then across my chest down to that sweet space between my legs. He teasingly peppered my inner thighs with light kisses until I was a whining mess. He slipped a finger between my folds and into my heated core. It easily glided in and out because of how wet I was already.
"You were thirsty," he growled.
"Still am," I panted.
Timothée's eyes darkened as if I had issued him a challenge. He hiked one of my legs up so my knee rested over his shoulder and dove face first between my legs. His flattened tongue licked a stripe from my hole to my clit, all while looking up at me. I threw my head back and released a keening cry in response, which encouraged him to keep going. He suckled the sensitive bundle of nerves, tongue languidly pushing in and out of my hole every few seconds in order to change up the sensation. I was soon sent over the edge. Every nerve in my body was on fire as Timothée slowly worked his mouth back up the earlier path until he reached my lips again.
"I think the shower is ready," he whispered in my ear, which sent shivers down my heated body. He helped me off the counter and followed me to the edge of the tub. I could feel him throbbing against my hip as I tested the water and adjusted the temp.
We stepped into the tub and I set to work lathering him up, paying particular attention to his sensitive areas. He lost it when I gently scraped my fingernails along his inner thigh. The next thing I knew, he spun me around and bent me over, barely taking time to line up his pulsing length with my entrance before pushing in. We both moaned at the sensation. He reached around my hip to massage my clit as he pushed in and out, aggressively chasing climaxes for us both. I came first, already sensitive from the earlier round. The sensation of my walls clamping around him sent Timothée over the edge almost immediately. We both cried out in unison. Once he was spent, he grabbed my breasts and stomach and gently pulled me back to standing. I felt his chest heaving against my back as he rested his head in the crook of my neck. We let the water flow over us for a few silent moments, taking comfort in each other's touch.
"Told you I would make you glad you came," Timothée mumbled into neck.
<><><><><>
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21. Collapse
From this list
Timothee or his characters
https://www.tumblr.com/roxygen22/750844187588673536/send-me-a-number-and-ill-write-a-micro-story?source=share
Micro Story Prompt
Collapse
"You look like you are about ready to collapse."
You didn't need to look up from the espresso machine to know who was talking to you. But you wanted to. As expected, the voice matched the tall, lanky figure of your favorite regular customer.
"Hey, Timothée. Yeah, I've been staying up late to do some last-minute cramming for finals. The last one is today after my shift," you explained.
"Got any plans to celebrate the end of the semester?" he asked.
"To be honest, I haven't even thought that far out," you shrugged as you wiped down the counter.
Timothée rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "Would you like to have dinner with me?"
Your breath caught. The mere sight of him gave you butterflies every time he walked into the coffee shop's door; however, you had no clue it was reciprocated. Your hesitation made him start to panic.
"Umm, I mean, it's totally cool if you already have pl-"
"I'd love to, Timothée." Relief visibly washed over his face. "How long have you been waiting to shoot that shot?" you teased.
"A few weeks." A faint blush tinted his freckled cheeks.
"So, what time should I be ready?"
<><><><><>
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Timothee with a nasty stomach bug that had been going around and being super cuddly and clingy cuz he feels so sick. 🤒 plz ❤️
Bug
>>>puke warning<<<
You and Timothée had been dating for a couple of months the first time he visited your apartment. The two of you were going to watch a movie on your new TV - a gift to yourself after a promotion at work. It was shaping up to be the perfect casual date night until you felt him start to squirm on the couch beside you about an hour into the film.
At first, you thought he was just trying to reposition to get comfortable, but the shifting continued, and he let out a barely audible whimper. You picked up the remote and paused the show so you could look at him. You noticed he was much paler than when he walked through your door earlier.
"Are you ok?" you asked worriedly.
Timothée's face scrunched in discomfort as he removed his arm from its perch around your shoulders and leaned forward, nervously rubbing the palms of his hands on his knees. "My stomach is bothering me. Not sure why."
"Oh no. Can I get you anything? I have some Sprite and crackers."
"Maybe just some Sprite."
You untucked your leg and stood to fetch a glass of clear soda. He accepted it graciously but sipped cautiously.
"Thank you. I'll be ok. Let's keep going with the movie."
You nodded in agreement and pressed play, reclaiming your spot next to him. You were careful not to cuddle too closely, afraid that your body heat may worsen his nausea. About 15 minutes later, Timothée suddenly jumped off the couch and ran to the bathroom, followed by the sound of violent retching.
You padded over quietly. The door didn't latch behind him, so you knocked gently and pushed it open slightly.
"Are you alright?" you called out.
You heard him spit, then groan pitifully. "Oh, God. Please don't come in. Th-this is embarrassing."
"You know I'm a pediatric nurse, right? I get puked on for a living," you replied, unfazed.
He chuckled weakly. "Fair enough."
"So can I come into my own bathroom?" you teased in an effort to lighten the mood. He simply nodded, letting his head hang over the toilet. You knelt beside him to rub soothing circles on his back. You felt him tense as a queasy burp worked its way up from his belly.
"Any clue what may be causing this? Did any food seem off today?" you inquired.
He paused to think, then shook his head. "No, I don't think so. Maybe just a bug."
An idea occurred to you when you noticed how his now unruly curls fell into his face as he leaned forward. You stood and grabbed one of your headbands to pull it back.
"Thank you," Timothée all but whispered, resting his head on his forearm as he sat back against the wall. The peace only lasted a few moments before he was back on his knees and leaning over the toilet again. A long string of spit dripped from his mouth as his body prepared for another bout of vomiting.
"Just let it out. It'll help you feel better." You reassuringly rested your hand on his shoulder blade as he heaved repeatedly until finally emptying his stomach.
After spitting several times to clear his mouth, he sat back and looked at you. "I think it's over now." He cleared his throat. "Sorry about that."
"You don't need to apologize for something you have no control over, babe." You half-smiled kindly and ran a hand through his curls. "Why don't you stay here tonight and get some rest?"
Timothée paled again. "I- I don't know. I mean, I want to, and I was hoping to before...this...but I don't want our first time staying together overnight to be like this."
"Nonsense. For one, you don't need to drive home if you aren't feeling well. Second, there's no need to suffer alone. Here." You handed him a spare toothbrush. "When you have enough energy to stand, brush your teeth and we'll just pick up where we left off."
You stood and left the bathroom to give Timothée a moment of privacy. You heard the water run and the door open. This time, you were seated in a position to hold him instead of the other way around.
"I'm the big spoon this time," you announced defiantly and flashed a smirk.
"I yield," he replied with hands up in surrender, leaning back against your chest as he sat down on the couch. "Thank you for, uh, taking care of me." You responded simply with just a kiss on the crown of his head and unpaused the movie. Not even 10 minutes later, you heard soft snoring.
You buried your nose into his hair and whispered, "I wish I could tell you to your face that I would gladly take care of you for the rest of my days."
<><><><><>
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Tag List: @croatianprincess @bluizh @jindongdongie @groovy-lady @pmak2002
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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Masterlist
Tag List:
@croatianprincess, @bluizh, @jindongdongie, @groovy-lady, @pmak2002
Wish
This is my first one-shot featuring an actor rather than one of their characters. Timothée reminds me a lot of my first love and high-school sweetheart. We grew apart later in life, but I still look back fondly at moments we had like this.
Summary: You are heading off to college across the country. Your boyfriend, Timothée, surprises you with a sweet gesture on your last night together.
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"Come on," Timothée whisper-yelled as he looked down at you from his perch on your shared apartment building's fire escape.
You peered up at him nervously. "What are you doing?"
"You'll see if you ever get up here," he playfully mocked and then disappeared over the roof ledge.
Don't look down, don't look down, don't look down, you chanted to yourself as you pulled yourself up the ladder one rung at a time. "Doesn't he know I'm scared of heights?" you grumbled.
Your irritation melted when you finally made it to the top. Timothée stood by a telescope and a palette of blankets and pillows.
"I want to look at the stars with you," he said sheepishly as he gestured to the setup.
Your heart melted. You had no clue when he could have snuck away to set this up. The two of you had spent nearly every moment of the day together, trying to make the most of the remaining hours. The next day, you and your parents would be driving across the country to move you into your dorm room.
Timothée had the telescope trained on the moon. You both took turns looking through the apparatus, then laid down on the blankets with your pinkies linked to stare up at the sky. You looked over to take in his profile, the sharp angles of his jaw and nose, his curly head of hair.
"Thank you for this."
He squeezed your hand. "I find comfort in the fact that we will still be able to look up at the same moon, at the same stars, even though we're thousands of miles apart. When you look up, know that I am thinking about you." He rolled to his side to face you. "That I love you."
Your breath hitched, "You do?"
"At the risk of sounding super corny, to the moon and back," he replied with a big grin.
"I love you, too, Timmy." Your trembling lips met his as you tried to stifle your tears. "I'm going to miss you so much." Your voice broke and betrayed you.
He reached over and held your cheek. "Hey, shh, none of that. There will be plenty of time for tears tomorrow."
You saw his eyes move to something above you. He leaned up on his elbow and pointed to the sky. "Oh, look! Look! It's a shooting star!"
You sat up to look where he was pointing. "Timmy, that's just an airplane."
"I know, but we can pretend. Annnnnnd it distracted you from crying." He winked. "Make a wish."
You closed your eyes and smiled, complying with his silly instructions. You felt him staring at you.
"What did you wish for?" he asked softly.
"Well, if I tell you, it won't come true," you pushed playfully at his shoulder. His small smirk fell from his face as quickly as it began. He gently lowered himself back down to the blanket once more.
"I'll tell you mine because I don't want it to come true."
You gave him a puzzled look.
He looked up into your eyes and took your hand in his. "I wished you could stay. I'm saying it out loud because it would be selfish of me to genuinely want it to come true. You got a full ride to the school of your dreams! This is an amazing opportunity for you, and I'll be damned if I'll be the one to hold you back."
"Oh, Timmy." You laid down and snuggled into his side. The two of you stayed like that for hours in relative silence before he walked you back to your family's apartment.
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Timothée helped you and your parents load up the last of your belongings the next morning. He shook your dad's hand and gave your mom a hug before they stepped up into the truck, leaving the two of you alone for one last lingering moment.
He pulled a small, flat box from his pocket. "Open this on the way," he said as he handed it to you.
You looked down at the box and ran your thumb over the ribbon. Fat tears fell from your eyes as you looked up into his. Timothée pulled you into a hug, and you sobbed against his chest. You felt him plant a kiss against your hair.
"I am going to miss you so much, [Y/N]. But that has nothing on just how proud I am of you for pursuing your dreams. You are going to do amazing things." His voice cracked at the end.
"I love you, Timmy."
"I love you more."
He lifted your chin and drew you into one last kiss. Your tears mixed as your lips moved together. You pushed yourself away and wiped your face before hurriedly climbing into the back seat of the truck. You knew if you made eye contact that you might not have the strength to leave.
Timothée shut the door behind you. Now that you were buckled in and committed to the journey, you risked looking up at him. He looked as pitiful as you felt. His greenish blue eyes were red and puffy. His hands were stuffed in his pockets like he wasn't quite sure what to do next. As the truck moved forward, he loosened one to wave. You placed your hand on the window, wishing you could touch his one more time. You stared and waved until he was out of sight.
Your attention then fell to the gift in your lap. You gently tugged at the bow and opened the box to find a bracelet with delicate moon and star charms. Underneath, there was a small, handwritten note:
Don't forget to look up.
Love, T
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Masterlist
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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Masterlist
Tag List: @croatianprincess @bluizh @jindongdongie @groovy-lady @pmak2002
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."
<><><><><>
Masterlist
Tag list: @croatianprincess @bluizh @jindongdongie @groovy-lady @pmak2002
As a single mom, this one really resonated with me. I projected my own desires of a potential partner while writing - someone who helps pick up some of the mental load without being asked. It's hella sexy, tbh. Lately, I could have really benefitted from having someone like this Timothée variant to "tag in" and not go it alone.
Solidarity to all the single parents out there 🫡
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."
<><><><><>
Masterlist
Tag list: @croatianprincess @bluizh @jindongdongie @groovyqueer @pmak2002
Feeling nostalgic and wishing to have teenage puppy love like this again 🥹
Wish
This is my first one-shot featuring an actor rather than one of their characters. Timothée reminds me a lot of my first love and high-school sweetheart. We grew apart later in life, but I still look back fondly at moments we had like this.
Summary: You are heading off to college across the country. Your boyfriend, Timothée, surprises you with a sweet gesture on your last night together.
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"Come on," Timothée whisper-yelled as he looked down at you from his perch on your shared apartment building's fire escape.
You peered up at him nervously. "What are you doing?"
"You'll see if you ever get up here," he playfully mocked and then disappeared over the roof ledge.
Don't look down, don't look down, don't look down, you chanted to yourself as you pulled yourself up the ladder one rung at a time. "Doesn't he know I'm scared of heights?" you grumbled.
Your irritation melted when you finally made it to the top. Timothée stood by a telescope and a palette of blankets and pillows.
"I want to look at the stars with you," he said sheepishly as he gestured to the setup.
Your heart melted. You had no clue when he could have snuck away to set this up. The two of you had spent nearly every moment of the day together, trying to make the most of the remaining hours. The next day, you and your parents would be driving across the country to move you into your dorm room.
Timothée had the telescope trained on the moon. You both took turns looking through the apparatus, then laid down on the blankets with your pinkies linked to stare up at the sky. You looked over to take in his profile, the sharp angles of his jaw and nose, his curly head of hair.
"Thank you for this."
He squeezed your hand. "I find comfort in the fact that we will still be able to look up at the same moon, at the same stars, even though we're thousands of miles apart. When you look up, know that I am thinking about you." He rolled to his side to face you. "That I love you."
Your breath hitched, "You do?"
"At the risk of sounding super corny, to the moon and back," he replied with a big grin.
"I love you, too, Timmy." Your trembling lips met his as you tried to stifle your tears. "I'm going to miss you so much." Your voice broke and betrayed you.
He reached over and held your cheek. "Hey, shh, none of that. There will be plenty of time for tears tomorrow."
You saw his eyes move to something above you. He leaned up on his elbow and pointed to the sky. "Oh, look! Look! It's a shooting star!"
You sat up to look where he was pointing. "Timmy, that's just an airplane."
"I know, but we can pretend. Annnnnnd it distracted you from crying." He winked. "Make a wish."
You closed your eyes and smiled, complying with his silly instructions. You felt him staring at you.
"What did you wish for?" he asked softly.
"Well, if I tell you, it won't come true," you pushed playfully at his shoulder. His small smirk fell from his face as quickly as it began. He gently lowered himself back down to the blanket once more.
"I'll tell you mine because I don't want it to come true."
You gave him a puzzled look.
He looked up into your eyes and took your hand in his. "I wished you could stay. I'm saying it out loud because it would be selfish of me to genuinely want it to come true. You got a full ride to the school of your dreams! This is an amazing opportunity for you, and I'll be damned if I'll be the one to hold you back."
"Oh, Timmy." You laid down and snuggled into his side. The two of you stayed like that for hours in relative silence before he walked you back to your family's apartment.
<><><><><>
Timothée helped you and your parents load up the last of your belongings the next morning. He shook your dad's hand and gave your mom a hug before they stepped up into the truck, leaving the two of you alone for one last lingering moment.
He pulled a small, flat box from his pocket. "Open this on the way," he said as he handed it to you.
You looked down at the box and ran your thumb over the ribbon. Fat tears fell from your eyes as you looked up into his. Timothée pulled you into a hug, and you sobbed against his chest. You felt him plant a kiss against your hair.
"I am going to miss you so much, [Y/N]. But that has nothing on just how proud I am of you for pursuing your dreams. You are going to do amazing things." His voice cracked at the end.
"I love you, Timmy."
"I love you more."
He lifted your chin and drew you into one last kiss. Your tears mixed as your lips moved together. You pushed yourself away and wiped your face before hurriedly climbing into the back seat of the truck. You knew if you made eye contact that you might not have the strength to leave.
Timothée shut the door behind you. Now that you were buckled in and committed to the journey, you risked looking up at him. He looked as pitiful as you felt. His greenish blue eyes were red and puffy. His hands were stuffed in his pockets like he wasn't quite sure what to do next. As the truck moved forward, he loosened one to wave. You placed your hand on the window, wishing you could touch his one more time. You stared and waved until he was out of sight.
Your attention then fell to the gift in your lap. You gently tugged at the bow and opened the box to find a bracelet with delicate moon and star charms. Underneath, there was a small, handwritten note:
Don't forget to look up.
Love, T
<><><><><>
Masterlist
Stop taking your hands out of mine
Timothée Chalamet x fem!Reader
'Boys don't cry' by The Cure played silently from the beat-up speaker that was sitting on top of my desk. I was sitting down on my bed with my boyfriend Timothée, who was laying down in between my legs, holding up the book 'The Body' by Stephen King as we read it together. One of his hands was flipping through the pages while the other was enlaced with mine. Timothée and I started dating a little more than four months ago, and ever since we made it official, he has been at my house almost every day. And quite frankly, I'm almost positive that he's at my house more than his own. But I honestly didn't care. I enjoyed his company more than anything.
One word everyone uses to describe our relationship is 'perfect'. We rarely fought and when we did, it was always a petty argument like, 'which cookie is best.' Everyone who has seen us together, all say we are "a match made from heaven," which makes me happy knowing people liked me and Timothée together.
We read a few more pages until I heard Timothée sigh rather loudly, as he closed the book and flipping over so that his face was nuzzling into my neck. I took my hand out of his, brushing some loose strands of his long brown hair out of his eyes. He let out a whinny groan, taking my hand back into his.
After a few minutes, he started to close his eyes, pressing little kisses all over my neck and jaw, making butterflies erupt in my stomach. I let out a yawn, looking down at Timothée. Seeing him peacefully sleeping started to make me tired. I took my hand out of his for the second time, now closing my eyes. I was almost asleep when I felt him jab his index finger into my side, waking me up. I opened my eyes, seeing Timothée with a very unhappy, almost annoyed expression. "Stop taking your hand out of mine," he said with a pouting face. He rolled his eyes, taking my hand back in his, except this time he held it tight.
"Sorry," I whispered, closing my eyes once again.
After a while of silence, I assumed he was sleeping until he spoke up. "I love you," he said, but because his head was buried in the crook of my neck, it came out muffled.
"I love you too," I said, with a smile plastered on my face before wrapping my legs around his waist, pulling him closer to me, and resting one of my hands on the top of his head, lightly holding his face close to my chest.
"Night babe," I whispered, repeatedly kissing his hair, as he just quietly hums.
Hair tie
Timothée Chalamet x fem!Reader
I walked through the front door of my apartment to be met with silence and the darkness . The only revealing light was coming from the television that my boyfriend, Timothée, was currently staring at. He looked brained dead as he thoughtlessly clicked through multiple channels before settling for a hockey game.
I could see him fidgeting with the silver band that was on his index finger, looking as if he was going to fall asleep any minute now. I walked into the kitchen, placing my key ring into a glass bowl, before hanging my jacket up on the back of the chair. I rubbed my hands over my face in tiredness, trying to forget about the terrible events that occurred this evening. I jumped back in shock when I heard shuffling noises behind me. I quickly turned my head, letting out a sigh of relief when I saw that it was just Timothée. "How's the hockey game?" I asked, letting out a sigh as I walked over towards him, wrapping my arms around his neck.
"Boring," he said as he wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me closer to him.
"You were gone for a very long time. I was starting to get worried when you didn't answer my calls or my messages." I nodded before I mindlessly let go of him, walking away from him, the only thing on my mind was going to bed.
He let out a sigh, not liking the fact that he got ignored. I heard him following behind me as I walked into our bedroom, going into the connected bathroom to change out of my clothes.
Once I got changed, I walked over to the sink so I could wash my face. "Y/n, "he whined, hugging me tightly from behind.
I sighed, looking at him through the mirror. "Tim," I sternly said, watching him as he used his fingers to comb through my tangled hair.
He doesn't verbally respond, instead; he takes one of my black hair ties off of his wrists as he began to braid my hair. While I just stood there, my heart melting at the sight of the concentrated look on his face."Where did you get the hair tie from?" I jokingly asked as I crossed my arms.
"You left it on our bed,"
I nodded, leaning back into his chest as I closed my eyes, enjoying this moment. Once he finished, he put the braid over my shoulder, looking down at me with a proud smile on his face. I turned my head, placing a kiss to the bottom of his jaw, as he wrapped his arms around my waist, burying his head into my neck.
"I love you," he whispered into my ear before kissing my cheek.
"I love you too," I whispered back, as I placed my hands into his, causing him to smile.
I turned around so that I could face him, wrapping my arms around his waist, burying my head into his chest, as I he rested his chin against my head. "Can we go to bed now?" I asked, wanting nothing more but to cuddle.
"Sure."
Sleepy
Timothée Chalamet x fem!Reader
I was currently on my way to pick up my boyfriend Timothée from his house, because we both made plans with a few of our high school friends a while back. I was really excited to hangout with them since I haven't seen them for a while due to Timothée's hectic acting career.
Once I pulled up to his driveway, I pulled my phone out to text him that I was here. Once I sent the message, I picked up my water bottle, about to take a drink, when I heard the passenger door open, then slam shut. I looked to the side to see Timothée slumped down in the seat with his head resting against the car door.
"Hey baby," I said, but got no response in return.
"Baby?" I said again, but this time he turned his head to look at me, a weak smile plastered on his face.
Once I got a good look at his face, I immediately felt bad for him. He looked like he hadn't slept in ages; he had blood-shot eyes, he was slightly paler than usual, with terrible eye bags, and to top it all off, a bad case of bed head. But I still thought that he looked absolutely mesmerizing. "Hi mon amour," he said quietly, almost in a whisper.
I leaned over to place a small kiss on his cheek, which earned a small smile from him.
"I've missed you," he said, grabbing my hand and interlocking it with his own, bringing it up to his mouth and placing a kiss to my knuckles.
"I missed you too," I replied, starting to back out of the driveway.
Once we arrived at the cafe where we would be meeting our friends at, I looked to the side, to see Timothée sleeping; so I leaned over to him, unbuckling his seatbelt and slightly shaking him, trying to wake him up. "We're here."
I heard Timothée let out a groan, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. "What's the matter, Tim?" I asked him, moving a strand of black hair out of his eye, then pressing the palm of my hand to his cheek.
He placed his hand over mine, leaning into my touch. "Oh nothing much, I'm just tired." He replied, letting out a sigh.
"We can go home if you're not feeling good."
"It's okay, mon amour, I'm feeling fine, just a little drowsy, that's all," he said, giving me a reassuring smile.
Once we got out of the car, Timothée interlocked our hands together, placing a kiss to the side of my head. "Timmy look, it's them!" I said excitedly, running a little to get to them quicker, pulling him along with me.
Once we reached their table, my friend Sally immediately got up from her seat, running up to us and engulfing me in a tight hug. "Finally, you guys are here. I was starting to think y'all were gonna stand me up," she said, laughing.
"Hey," I said back, laughing a little before all three of us took our seats.
"Wasn't Mike supposed to be here?" Timothée asked.
"Oh yeah, no, he was supposed to come, but he got held up at the office," Sally said, shaking her head a little with her words.
Once the waitress came and took our orders, I turned to Timothée, seeing that he was struggling to keep his eyes open. After a few minutes, I felt a heavyweight go on my shoulder. Looking up a little, I saw Timothée's head resting on my shoulder. I quickly kissed his forehead, mumbling a quick 'I love you' before continuing my conversation with Sally.
After a few minutes, I felt his hand unlock with mine, and I could feel him fiddling with my rings. After an hour goes by, and we finished our coffee and caught up on everything, I decided that it was time to get Timothée home. "Okay, well, we should probably head home," I said with a pout on my face.
"Yeah, of course, of course." She said back, as all three of us stood up.
"Well, we definitely need to do this more often," I said, pulling her into a tight hug.
Once we said our goodbyes and parted ways, me and Timothée walked back to our car, getting inside, and interlocking our hands once again. "Did you sleep at all last night?" I asked Timothée, turning my head to look at him.
"Not really." He quietly said, kissing my lips before resting his head against the door.
Once we arrived at his house, I turned the engine off before turning to face him, "We're here darling," I said, placing multiple kisses on his cheek.
He let out a groan before lifting his head up and unbuckling his seat belt, "Can you come inside, I wanna cuddle," he said with a pout."
"Of course," I said, smiling.
We opened our doors before walking to the front door. Once we made our way to the bedroom, he immediately pushed me onto his bed, situating himself onto of me before burying his head into the crook of my neck. "Je t'aime," he said.
"I love you too,"
Books, pillow talks, and an attention-craving boy
Timothée Chalamet x fem!Reader
I was engrossed in 'If We Were Villains," by M. L. Rio, when I heard the door to mine and my boyfriend, Timothée's shared bedroom creak open—just enough for him to peak in. "Hi love," he chimed, entering the room and settling down beside me.
Despite knowing that Tim was there, my eyes remained glued to the page. "Hey," I murmured, too absorbed in the book to feign enthusiasm.
"What are you reading?" He inquired, shifting to lay down directly on top of me, harshly pressing his face into my stomach.
I awkwardly folded the book so that he could see the cover, prompting him to nod in acknowledgement once he read the title.
For about 20 minutes, Tim tried everything he could to divert my attention away from my book and onto him. But once he realized my unwavering focus on the book, he started to grow bored. With a dramatic sigh, he got up, slamming the door shut.
I flinched a little at the sound, but overall I didn't think too much of it as I continued to read, since I was nearing the end. After I read it from front to back, I closed the book, setting it down on my nightstand, before getting up to go look for Tim.
As I descended the stairs, I noticed an unusual quietness, contrary to Timothée's usual ruckus. Muffled talking reached my ears as I entered the living room, finding Tim asleep on the couch with our old, beaten-up radio softly playing in the background.
I walked over to him, waking him up with a gentle shake; he let out a groan, slowly opening his eyes, before asking, "What do you want?" with a hint of sass.
"I want to cuddle," I whispered, reaching my arms out to him, repeatedly making a grabby hand motion, while giving him my best puppy dog eyes.
"Oh so now you want to give me attention," he said, rolling his eyes and turning away from me.
"Timmy," I whined, sitting beside him and pressing my head into his neck, placing a few light kisses there as a way to convince him to cuddle with me.
When he didn't respond, I pressed my mouth against his ear, whispering, "Please baby," while rubbing small circles on his back.
After a moment of faux contemplation, he smiled, lazily pulling me on top of him, before shifting so that I was under him. Once we both got comfortable, he wrapped his arms around my waist, nuzzling his head into my neck, gently sucking on the skin there, causing me to bite back a moan from the sensation he was giving me. "Goodnight, mon amour," he said with a smirk, momentarily lifting his head up to press a kiss on my forehead before returning his face back to my neck.
"Night night," I sleepily replied, wrapping my arms and legs around him, pulling him as close to me as possible.
Worries and apologies
Timothée Chalamet x fem!Reader
I slammed the passenger door of my fiancé's car shut as I stormed inside mine and Timothée’s house, not caring enough to wait for him to get out of the car. I walked into our bedroom, crawling into bed, and pulling the blanket up to my neck, my back facing the door.
I sat there taking in everything that had happened earlier that day, growing more upset as I replayed Timothée screaming at me in front of our family and friends over and over again in my head.
Timothée and I had planned on going to dinner with our close friends and family as a way of spending our 3 year anniversary, but it didn't go as any of us expected. We ended up getting into an argument before we could even leave the restaurant.
I laid in the dark as tears started to form in my eyes as I tried to sink further into the mattress, wishing that I could just disappear.
I eventually decided that I was going to stay at a hotel for a few days, since I figured Timothée wouldn't want to see me. I grabbed the telephone that was on the side table, dialing a hotel's number as I waited for them to pick up. Once they did, they informed me that there would be an available spot in an hour. They said that they just needed to get it cleaned and that they would call back when it was ready. So I made a reservation before I got up from my bed, walking into my closet, grabbing my pajamas and a couple of outfits before stuffing them into a small bag. I went back into bed, waiting for the phone to ring, when I heard the bedroom door opening and then slamming shut. I jumped a little at the noise as I pulled the blanket up more, hoping that he wouldn't try to talk to me. However, my hopefulness soon disappeared as I felt the bed dip.
I pulled the blanket further up my body, as I tried to pretend that he wasn't there. Which worked up until I felt his arms wrapping around my waist, pulling me closer to him until my back hit his chest, pressing a kiss to my shoulder. I sat there, not moving, waiting for him to talk. It didn't take long before I heard him speaking in a calming tone, slightly whispering. He almost never spoke that way with me unless he knew I was unhappy with him. He thinks that if he lowers his volume, it will make up for raising his voice at me, but it doesn't.
"Y/n, I'm sorry for earlier. I shouldn't have raised my voice at you. It won't happen again, I promise." He said, pressing a kiss on my neck with every word he spoke.
I knew that what he was telling me was the truth, but I couldn't help but feel like it wasn't. So I stayed put. I felt him holding onto me tighter as I started to feel bad. I was about to roll over when I heard the phone starting to ring, "hello, who is this?" I heard Timothée say, as I closed my eyes, hoping that it wasn't the hotel.
"Oh uh no I would like to cancel that reservation." He said in a serious tone.
I looked up seeing him with an unreadable look on his face, soon enough he put the phone down as he turned to the side to face me, "You were going to leave?" He asked me, moving a strand of hair away from my eyes.
I didn't know what to say. How could I tell the man I am about to marry that I was thinking of leaving him for a few days? So I just nodded my head.
"Please don't ever leave me, I'm so sorry." Timothée said, his voice breaking, before engulfing me into a tight hug.
"I won't, I’m sorry, I forgive you," I whispered in his ear, wrapping my arms around his neck, playing with the tips of his hair.
"Promise?" He asked, keeping his head into my neck, not wanting to look at me.
"I promise," I said, pressing a kiss on the top of his head as I pulled his body closer to mine, my heart melting when he wrapped his arms around me.
Florence's Masterlist of hot guys
I'd love to hear any requests that you may have for these five actors and the character that they portray!! 💋♥️
Gilbert Blythe
𓇼Jealousy
Dylan O’brien
𓇼Raindrop Romance and Puppy Dog Eyes
𓇼 My Flannel
𓇼Ignored ignorance
𓇼I love you
𓇼Fuck it
Timothée Chalamet
𓇼Only one bed
𓇼Worries and apologies
𓇼Books, pillow talks, and an attention-craving boy
𓇼Sleepy
𓇼You're stuck with me
𓇼Hair tie
𓇼Stop taking your hands out of mine
𓇼Cigarettes
Cillian Murphy
𓇼Haunted house
Andrew Garfield
𓇼Do I make you nervous?
𓇼P.s I love you
Only one bed
Timothée Chalamet x fem!Reader
The anticipation for the premiere of my latest project, 'little women' had my nerves on edge as I sat in the airport, waiting for my Uber. Tomorrow's event promised excitement and anxiety in equal measure – after all, being one of the main characters in a show was a huge accomplishment for me.
As I scrolled through my Instagram feed, a message from my driver notified me of his arrival. Stepping outside the airport, I was met by a cheerful man who swiftly took my suitcase and stowed it in the trunk before we set off on the short journey, engaging in light conversation along the way.
My phone buzzed incessantly with notifications from the group chat comprised of my fellow 'Little women' cast members. Amidst the chatter, the revelation that we had to share rooms due to a booking oversight surfaced. I sighed inwardly, hoping I wouldn't end up rooming with Timothée – a fellow actor whom I didn't like, at all.
"Miss, we're here," The driver said, getting out and walking around to the trunk to get my bags. Once I got out of the car, I heard someone shout, "Y/N!" looking up I saw Florence with her arms wide open sprinting over to me. I smiled at her, engulfing her in a bear hug. We stayed that way for a while until we heard someone calling our names. We turned around to see Saoirse behind us. "We're deciding who's rooming with who." She said, walking back to the hotel's lobby with Florence and I following close behind her.
***
"Oh fuck no!" I yelled, "I'm not going to be sharing a room with this mother fucker." I said pointing towards Timothée.
"Yeah, and I don't want to share a room with her either!" He retorted, crossing his arms and pouting, causing me to roll my eyes at his childish behavior.
After a while of arguing I eventually gave up, knowing I wouldn't win this argument.
I was to share a room with Timothée. Our mutual disdain for each other was palpable as we rode the elevator to the 19th floor.
"Going up," the elevator announced as it started moving.
I shot Timothée a scornful glare, my irritation palpable at the thought of sharing a room, especially with him – the last person I wanted as a roommate.
The elevator opened revealing the floor we would all be staying on for the next few days. We all went our separate ways just wanting to get to our rooms.
Timothée and I were walking down the halls when we saw our room number. Disgruntled and resigned to our fate, Timothée opened the door throwing his bags on the floor and going straight to the bathroom, grabbing a cup, and filling it with water, while I just stood in the middle of the room in shock.
"Uh, Timothée," I called out to him.
"What n/n?" He said with attitude, walking over towards me and taking a sip from his water.
"Look!" I said, pointing to the spacious yet troubling sight – a solitary king-size bed occupying the center of the room.
Any other person from the cast and I would've been totally fine with it. Why out of all the people did it have to be with Timothée? "You sleep on the bed; I'll sleep on the floor,""He said, grabbing two of the pillows and one of the blankets.
Feeling guilt take over my body, I said, "Tim, it's fine; we could just share the bed; we could put a pillow to divide us."
He didn't reply; he just smiled, throwing the pillow and blanket back on the bed before leaving for the bathroom once again. Timothée emerged from the bathroom in casual blue-and-white pajamas, a departure from his usual appearance. He settled onto his side of the bed, slipping beneath the duvet and cuddling against his pillow. He actually looked kinda cute right now. As much as I hated to admit it, he was a really attractive guy, he just has a terrible personality.
I, too, got under the covers, snuggling up into my pillow before drifting off to sleep.
The night passed relatively quiet until the early hours of the morning, I awoke to sudden movement in the room. To my dismay, my eyes slowly opened to reveal Florence, Emma, and Saoirse standing around the bed, brandishing their phones like paparazzi. I shot up, waking Timothée up from my sudden movements. "What the hell are you guys doing in here?" I questioned.
"I think the real question is how you even got in here." Timothée said, with an annoyed expression.
"Irrelevant," Florence said as Saoirse shoved her phone in our faces.
"Look how cute you guys look!" She said, revealing a photo of Timothée and me spooning with his arm wrapped around me.
My face flushed red as I looked down trying to hide my face. After a while of them teasing us, they eventually left. "Hey, um sorry about that, I didn't know I did that in, my sleep," Timothée said, his head down in embarrassment.
I put my hand on top of his making him look at me. "It's fine, really," I said, smiling at him.
Driven by a surge of impulse, I closed the distance between us, our lips colliding in an unexpected union. Timothée responded, his touch gentle yet firm as he cradled my face in his hands. A smile crept onto my lips as I tangled my fingers in his curls, savoring the moment of intimacy. We both pulled away for air, going back for another kiss when we heard someone clearing their throat, jumping away from each other we saw Emma and Saoirse with big smiles on their face, "you owe me 20 bucks, pay up." Florence said, putting her hand out.
"Seriously how the fuck are you guys getting in here?!"
***
This is definitely not my best work ever, so I apologize for that.
Hair dye
Timothée Chalamet x fem!Reader
"Tim, you have to sit still, unless you want to look like Oscar the grouch." I teased, carefully applying more blue hair dye to my boyfriend Timothée's now blond curls.
With less than a week before he had to return to film his latest movie in LA, Tim arrived home two days ago with a list of tasks he needed to complete, including the need for blue hair.
Nerves fluttered within me when he first mentioned dyeing his hair. Since it had been five years since I last experimented with hair dye at the age of 16. And the last thing I wanted to do was to jeopardize his appearance and disrupt the film schedule.
"Are you almost done?" he whined, growing bored.
"Just about, you just have to sit with this in for an hour then rinse it out." I replied painting the last bit of his bleached blond hair.
"Done," I announced, watching as he eagerly grabbed his phone to catch a glimpse of his new hair. His eyes widened in a mixture of shock and distaste, causing a chuckle from me.
"You're dashing, baby," I teased, causing him to roll his eyes.
I retrieved a hair cap from the table to contain the dye and returned to Tim. "Do you still love me, even though I look hideous?" he pouted, turning to face me.
"My love, I hate to break it to you, but I never loved you," I teased, prompting a shocked expression from him before he enveloped me in a hug from behind.
"You really don't love me?" He said pouting in disappointment. "Because I love you," he declared, showering kisses along my shoulder and neck, knowing full well I was ticklish there.
"I love you too, Timmy," I responded, turning around to face him, and immediately he ducked his head down and pulled me into a kiss. What started as just an innocent kiss now turned into a make out session. His lips travelled to my neck, gently sucking on the skin. He was planting sloppy kisses on my collarbone making his way up to my neck. Suddenly, the timer interrupted, eliciting a groan from Tim.
"Well, thats your cue," I remarked, stealing a quick kiss before retreating to wash my hands.
As I turned on the faucet, Tim's voice echoed from the bathroom doorway, "Don't forget the soap! I can't go back to filming with blue handprints all over my body!"
I chuckled, shaking my head. "Oh, believe me, Tim, that won't be a problem!"