Timothee Chalamet X Y/n - Blog Posts

POV: You’re Timmy’s S/O and this is what your camera roll looks like (Part 5):

Bonus: “I’m takin a pic of YOU dis time😈”

Part 1 • Part 2 • Part 3 • Part 4 • Part 5

POV: You’re Timmy’s S/O and this is what your camera roll looks like (Part 4):

Part 1 • Part 2 • Part 3 • Part 4 • Part 5

POV: You’re Timmy’s S/O and this is what your camera roll looks like (Part 2):

Part 1 • Part 2 • Part 3 • Part 4 • Part 5

POV: You’re Timmy’s S/O and this is what your camera roll looks like (Part 1):

Part 1 • Part 2 • Part 3 • Part 4 • Part 5

What Are Friends For? (Part 2)

Pairing: Timothée Chalamet x fem!Reader Summary: Reader gets a chance to return the favor ;) Warnings: Smut (fingering, handjob, oral - male receiving), language, friends with benefits, no aftercare. Word count: 959

You were afraid things would be awkward between you and Timmy, but that couldn’t be more wrong. 

After your… encounter, you’d put on a pair of pants and met him in the living room. You both ate your food on the couch and watched a movie, talking and laughing like it hadn’t even happened. You were relieved that it hadn't changed your friendship.

Except for the fact that when he went home that night, you masturbated to the thought of his fingers inside you at least a hundred times. You wondered if he was doing the same. The thought of him fucking his hand and thinking of you made you cum extra hard.

Your lives were busy. You managed to hang out with him a few more times in the next couple weeks, but nothing sexual happened again. You didn’t want to push it and risk making things weird between the two of you, so you let it go.

“What are we watching?” Timothée called from the living room.

“I don’t know, whatever you want,” you called back as you practically emptied all of the snacks from your kitchen cabinets.

He sighed loudly as you entered the living room, arms full of junk food. “You decide.” This was an argument you two had often.

“I don’t know.” You dropped everything onto the coffee table.

“Just pick something,” he pleaded.

You grabbed the remote and plopped down on the couch beside him. You didn’t even know which streaming service to flip through. You tried Netflix. Nothing.

As you were waiting for Hulu to load, Timmy shifted in his seat for what had to have been the third time in under two minutes. You turned to him, wondering what his deal was. He met your gaze immediately. His eyes were wide and his cheeks were tinted a light shade of pink.

Like he’d been caught.

You had no idea what was going on until your eyes just happened to flick down and you took in the bulge in his pants. A long moment passed as he tried to gauge your reaction and you tried to figure out what had triggered this or how to even react. Finally, you cleared your throat, not wanting to appear too excited.

“Do you need help with that?” You nodded down to the tightness in his jeans.

He smirked a little, remembering your encounter all those weeks ago. “Would you?”

“What are friends for?” Remote forgotten, you tucked yourself beside him and reached down, feeling him over his jeans first. You fought back a smirk; you knew he’d be big. He exhaled, his head dropping back onto the cushions even though you’d barely touched him yet. You made quick work of unzipping his jeans and pulling him out of his boxers. 

You thought of all the nights you’d laid in bed, imagining Timmy’s cock, and now here it was, hard in your hand. Your pussy was already dripping as you ran your hand up and down his length.

You rubbed your legs together to create some friction. Timmy noticed your neediness and reached his hand into your pajama pants until you felt slight pressure on your clit. You gasped, automatically opening your legs in search of more pleasure, which he was happy to provide.

You pumped even faster, hoping you’d be rewarded for it, and you were. He slid a finger inside you. You bucked your hips, wanting more. You could no longer contain your excitement; you’d been dreaming of this for weeks. He matched his pace to yours, fingering you at the same speed you were using on him. 

Your chest rose and fell rapidly. Despite your building orgasm, you forced yourself to focus on pleasuring him. He seemed to be doing the same, adding another finger. You were both locked in a pleasure-filled standoff.

He increased his pace, rubbing your clit with his thumb and effectively throwing you over the edge. A whimper escaped your throat as you came around his fingers for the second time. You could feel his dick twitch in your hand as your pussy convulsed.

You pulled his hand from your pants and guided it to your mouth, sucking on the cum-covered digits before he had the chance to do so first. His jaw dropped as he watched you swirl your tongue around his fingers, tasting yourself. It was undeniably hot. He involuntarily bucked his hips once, simply unable to help himself. He was close.

Whether he knew it or not, he’d made you cum several times the last few weeks. Now, you needed to return the favor. You dropped to your knees, intending to replace his fingers with his cock.

“Fuck, (Y/N),” he strained. He nearly came just from the sight of you kneeling before him. You licked his tip, making him curse again. “Feels so fucking good.”

Excitement coursed through your veins; you liked when he praised you. He was struggling to keep his composure, and the little noises of pleasure that managed to escape him only excited you even more.

You took his cock almost entirely in your mouth, licking the underside and swirling your tongue around the tip, knowing it would be the end of him.

He looked god-like as he came; better than you ever could have imagined. His back arched and his hands clenched around the material of the couch cushion. Your pussy clenched again at the sight and taste of him coating your mouth.

You rested your head on his thigh, committing his fucked-out expression to memory as he tried to slow his breathing.

“Timmy?” you asked after a few moments.

“Yeah, (Y/N)?”

You stood, wiping the side of your mouth and grabbing the remote once more. “I wanna watch Euphoria.”

What Are Friends For?

Pairing: Timothée Chalamet x fem!Reader Summary: Timmy catches reader masturbating... Friends help each other out, right? ;)  Warnings: Smut (fingering & oral), being caught masturbating, friends with benefits, no aftercare. Word count: 711

It was your own fault, really. 

You knew Timmy was coming over, but you figured you still had a good fifteen minutes or so before he got there. So you found yourself in bed, pants off, in your own world of pleasure.

You were so lost in the moment that you didn’t even hear the front door open or the steps coming down the hall. 

“(Y/N), I brought some Chinese food and-” He cut himself off as he took in the scene before him. You silently cursed yourself for leaving the bedroom door open. 

“Timmy!” you exclaimed, grabbing the nearest blanket to cover yourself. But it was too late; he’d already seen everything. “You-you’re early.”

“Yeah, I…” The words died in his throat. He didn’t even know what to say. His eyebrows were raised and he blinked a few times. He looked from your eyes down to the blanket now covering you. He licked his lips, his voice dropping considerably. “Do you, uh… need help with that?”

Your mouth opened, but no words came out.  Your cheeks heated. You’d always thought Timmy was attractive, but you were just friends… You’d never thought of him like that… 

Still, you found yourself saying, “W… would you?”

He nodded, coming closer to you. “Of course. What are friends for?” he smirked mischievously. Your heart rate quickened as he knelt in front of you, pulling the blanket off your legs and haphazardly discarding it. You leaned back on your elbows. He licked his lips as his gaze dropped to your heat, now completely exposed for him. A wave of excitement surged through you. 

Without giving it a second thought, he leaned down and licked a long stripe up your slit. You gasped at the feeling of his warm tongue on your sensitive pussy. 

He ran his fingers over your slit a few times before sticking the middle one in, looking up at you to gauge your reaction. If you appeared even the slightest bit uncomfortable, he’d stop.

But you weren’t uncomfortable at all. In fact, you wanted more. Your mouth dropped open and you lifted your hips, trying to give him a better angle. He pumped in and out a few times, eliciting a tiny whimper from you. 

When he added another finger, you could no longer support your weight and dropped onto your back on the bed. His long fingers curled upward inside you, hitting the spot that always made your legs shake. 

He tried a third finger and cursed to himself as he found that you were almost too tight for it. Hearing the whispered “fuck” leave his lips was almost enough to make you cum on the spot. He was enjoying this just as much as you. 

He knew you were holding back a moan, so he moved faster, trying to coax it out of you. It worked, and the noise escaped your throat. He rewarded you by sucking your clit. You placed a hand over your mouth, holding back a scream as the pleasure built inside you. 

The base of your spine began to tingle and you instinctively reached down, tangling your fingers in his curls. His fingers moved even faster, practically slamming in and out of you, and as he ran his tongue over your sensitive clit, you fell over the edge.

Your chest rose and fell rapidly as your orgasm coursed through you. He didn’t pull out until your pussy finally stopped fluttering around his fingers.

He flopped onto his back next to you. It almost seemed like he’d momentarily forgotten you were there, his attention fixed on his fingers and your essence coating them. He blinked at them dreamily, twisting his hand and taking them in at every angle. Finally, he sucked them into his mouth, cleaning them off with his tongue. The mere image of him sucking your wetness off his fingers almost made you cum again. He closed his eyes for a moment, savoring your taste. 

Finally, he turned onto his side, looking at you. Your eyes flicked down to his jeans, which were undeniably constricted. You swallowed, thinking he’d probably be expecting something in return. 

But instead, he simply said, “The foods’ getting cold,” before pulling himself to his feet and exiting the room.

Biggest Fan

Pairing: Timothee Chalamet x f!Reader Summary: Reader has been absolutely filthy in the DMs and when she meets Timothée unexpectedly, he wants her to make good on her promises. Warnings: Smut (oral - male receiving), sexualizing a celebrity, technically a power imbalance, curse words. Word count: 2k

There was no way he’d ever see your DMs. He probably got thousands of messages a day; yours would get lost in a sea of countless others. And he was rarely ever on Twitter…

Still, you’d occasionally send some DMs anyway, just for the hell of it. It started tame. Telling him how much you loved his work, how excited you were for the next Dune movie… Small things like that. 

And then the thirst started.

It was all because of the Oscars… The damn Oscars. God, he looked so good. You felt like you were going to explode the second the shirtless image of him appeared on your TV screen. In the heat of the moment, you whipped out your phone and began typing every lewd thought that popped into your head.

Everything about him was perfect, from his hair down to the smallest details, like the rings on his fingers. You drank in every image you could find of his bare chest. Before you knew it, you were composing the nastiest paragraph you’d ever written in your life (up until that point, at least) and hitting send without a second thought.

God, it’s almost unfair how perfect you are. You’re so fucking sexy in your sparkly little jacket. I wanna taste every inch of you. I want you to fuck my mouth and make me gag on your cock. I want your cum running down my throat. I want you to fuck me so hard and fast that all I know is your name. I want you to absolutely obliterate me. I wanna be your personal fuckdoll… I’m fucking dripping just thinking about it. I need you inside me so fucking bad. I’m such a needy slut for you.

That was just the first one, and as time went on, they grew more graphic. It became an outlet, a way to get all of this sexual energy out. Your messages ranged from short, innocent sentences to long, erotic paragraphs detailing all of the depraved things you wanted him to do to you.

But he’d never see it.

Right?

***

The club was full of drunk, sweaty bodies. You were perfectly content to stand in the corner all night with your best friend, Jess, and sway to the music, feeling the bass vibrate through the floor.

“Hey, isn’t he that guy you’re so obsessed with?” Jess asked, pointing discreetly to a group of guys in the corner.

Your jaw dropped as you realized you were standing in the presence of the Timothée Chalamet. He was with a group of friends and appeared to be having a good time. Your heart began to race in your chest.

“Come on,” Jess said, taking in your stunned appearance. She tugged your hand, starting to lead you in his direction, but you pulled back.

“Are you fucking insane? I can’t just walk right up to him, I’ll literally drop dead on the spot.”

“Okay, fine, don’t talk to him.” She held back a laugh at your outburst. “But you know if you don’t at least stand in the same general vicinity as him, you’ll hate yourself forever.” 

Damn. You hated when she was right.

You both weaved through the crowd, strategically placing yourselves closer and closer every few moments without making it too obvious. 

You fought the urge to keep glancing at him, though all you wanted to do was drink in his appearance. You weren’t sure you’d ever get the chance to see him in person again. 

Jess was talking about something Britney had said to her earlier - you weren’t really paying too much attention - when you tried to steal a glance at exactly the wrong moment.

His eyes met yours. 

And instead of looking away and pretending nothing had happened like a normal person would in this circumstance, you froze. Your eyes widened, giving you a slight deer-in-the-headlights expression. He broke into that adorable, lopsided smile you loved so much.

Then, to your surprise, he started moving toward you.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck,” you whispered to Jess.

“Wha-”

“Hey, I’m Timothée,” he said. Jess’s eyes widened, too, as she processed the situation. Holy fuck he was so close, you could smell him now. And he smelled good.

“I… I know,” you replied stupidly, the awe evident in your voice.

“I’m Jess, and this is (Y/N),” she stepped in for you. “It’s so nice to meet you.”

“You too,” he smiled. His eyes flicked back to you. His brow furrowed and his head tilted to one side as he took you in, but after a few seconds, he shook his head. “Sorry, have we met before?”

“Umm…” You pretended to think for a second, even though you’d definitely remember if you’d met this literal god before. “Nope, I don’t think so.”

“Hm… Weird. I thought I recognized you from somewhere.”

You shrugged this off; he’d probably met so many fans in so many countries, there was bound to be at least one other girl somewhere who somewhat resembled you.

He was extremely nice and offered to take photos with you. He hung around to chat for a few minutes before excusing himself back to his friends. Besides your general awkwardness - which he was probably used to, judging by the way he easily brushed it off - the interaction couldn’t have gone any better.

“He’s literally my future husband,” you told Jess dreamily as you both watched him walk away.

“Not if I marry him first,” she joked.

“Hey! At least share!” You pouted.

She jokingly stuck her tongue out at you, and then her eyes scanned the room. “Well, if my marriage to Timmy doesn’t pan out, I think I just found his replacement. Mind if I go dance?”

“Nah, go right ahead,” you replied. You leaned against a wall, focusing on your phone. You posted your photo with Timmy to Instagram, and then popped onto Twitter to make the photo your profile pic. Your moots were about to go feral. For a moment, your thumb hovered over the messages icon. 

Ah, why not?

Hot sweatpants, cutie. I’ll make you sweat and pant;)

You chuckled a little to yourself. God, that was a cringey one. Still, it was just for your entertainment, so why not?

You continued scrolling through Twitter, enjoying your fifteen minutes of fame as you were bombarded by a million questions, each more unhinged than the last (‘What did he smell like?’ ‘Who was he with?’ ‘Did you lick his hand? I would’ve licked his hand’ etc). You were in the middle of replying to someone when you heard a voice beside you.

“I know where I recognized you from!”

Your eyes met his green ones and your breath caught in your throat. You weren’t expecting any more attention from Timothée, but obviously welcomed it.

“Where’s that?” you asked, trying to be nonchalant. He pulled up his phone and showed you the screen.

Your eyes widened and your mouth dropped open. You were horrified as you took in Timothée’s view of your DM’s. He must have turned his read receipts off. He didn’t seem to notice your embarrassment as he scrolled up in the conversation a little.

“This is one of my favorites, ‘My ass is grass and I want you to mow it.’ Or that time you just sent the link to Deep Throat by Cupcakke.”

“Oh, god,” you said, putting your head in your hands. You couldn’t even deny that it was you; the profile picture gave you away. You wanted to spontaneously combust. “I didn’t think you’d actually see that.”

“I could tell…” he chuckled. Thankfully, he scrolled past your more… needy messages and focused on the ironic ones. “‘I would let you break my back in half, spit in my mouth, dislocate my jaw, pee on me, rip out my intestines, and then hit me with your car and I’d still be your biggest fan.’”

“Ugh, God,” you groaned. 

He smirked at you and you swore his eyes flicked down to your lips for a split second. When he spoke again, the joking tone had disappeared. “You think you’re my biggest fan?”

Your mouth opened but no words came out. You drew in a sharp breath. “I- uh… y-yeah.”

His voice dropped dangerously low; you were sure no one else could hear. “Would you be willing to prove it?”

His words swam around in your head and you struggled to make sense of them. Surely, you had misunderstood… You blinked, watching as his tongue swiped over his lips. 

“Absolutely.”

Before you could even process what was happening, he had taken your hand and led you down a hallway, somehow unseen by anyone else. He slipped you into a bathroom and shut the door behind you both. 

Pressing you against the door, he attached his lips to yours.

You felt yourself relax into him as he kissed you deeply. Suddenly, your shy side had disappeared and in its place stood the horndog who had written all those DMs. You gently bit his bottom lip and he wound his arms around your waist, pulling you even closer. You slipped your tongue into his mouth and he ground against you. You practically moaned; he was already hard. You reached down, stroking him through his pants. He was just as big as you’d imagined.

You pushed him back until he was leaning against the sink and were on your knees in an instant, tugging down his sweatpants. You licked your lips as his dick sprang free.

“Love reading your desperate little messages over and over again…” he sighed, his head dropping back a little as you stroked him slowly.

“Mmm… Yeah?” you smirked, taking the tip between your lips and sucking lightly. His eyes rolled back and his mouth dropped open as he gripped the counter for support. You could tell he was restraining himself from bucking his hips up into you.

“Fuuuuckkk yeaaah,” he hissed. Slowly, teasingly, you began to descend on him. “God, I jack off nearly every day to them… Love seeing how needy you are for me.”

Your brain practically stopped working; the situation you found yourself in was too good to even begin to comprehend. Timothée Chalamet had just admitted to enjoying your depraved fantasies while his dick was in your mouth. Your pussy was dripping.

You hummed in response, hollowing your cheeks and bobbing your head torturously slow. He seemed to understand the game you were playing and was happy to give you more.

“Sometimes I go onto your profile and scroll through your selfies and imagine fucking you just like you want me to.” One of his hands weaved into your hair, but he didn’t apply any pressure just yet. You took all of him in your mouth now, his tip nudging the back of your throat. You came back up slowly, running your tongue along the bottom of his shaft.

“Fuck,” he hissed again. You started to bob your head faster now. After a few moments, his restraint wavered and he began to thrust into you. You blinked up at him, eyes full of nothing but pure adoration as he fucked your mouth. “Fuck, (Y/N), you’re so fucking good for me… Gonna be a good girl and swallow my cum?”

“Mmmhm,” you hummed and he gasped at the feeling of your throat vibrating. He released another string of curses before you felt his hot cum shooting down your throat. You absolutely savored the moment, taking in every drop you could. You never wanted to forget this feeling; this taste. 

You bobbed your head a couple more times before pulling off, causing his legs to tremble. He caught his breath, pulling his pants back up. He looked down at you, knelt on the floor before him, eyes glazed over, cheeks flushed and lips swollen. 

He held out a hand to help you up, which you took. You frowned, unhappy that your encounter was over.

But as if reading your mind, he took your face in his hands. “Don’t look so disappointed. I’m not finished with you yet, love.”

Dating Timmy - Random Headcanons

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

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

And he does the same for you.

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

Except Statistics.

And Yeet.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Just as long as you're together.

He likes to match his outfits to yours.

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

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

So he loves showing you off.

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

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

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

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

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

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

You get him into shitty reality TV.

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

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

Like he gets it right almost every time.

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

It never gets old.

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

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

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

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

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

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

He likes to open your car door for you.

He can be forgetful when he's stressed out.

"Timmy, your phone is in your hand."

"Timothee, your sunglasses are on your head."

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

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

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

You: "I can do prison."

Him: "eufheufh why are you like this?"

You're his person🥺

Imagine: Being in a Secret Relationship With Timmy

You'd both agreed that you wanted to keep your relationship a secret for at least the first few months after you started dating. You wanted the privacy to be able to build a stable relationship without feeling like you're under a microscope and the whole world inserting their opinions.

But fans quickly began speculating, and after seeing just how many people were concered with your relationship status, you decided to keep it going for as long as you could. It was funny as hell, and you both loved trolling everyone.

Neither of you ever explicity confirmed or denied dating rumors.

He told his parents and sister that you guys were dating first, and then Zendaya (but only bc she's the only person who knows him well enough to pull the answer out of him) but other than that, you both only tell people you know you can 100% trust.

You both also say "we're friends" a lot because... you are.

Friends who just happen to be dating😏

"We're friends" becomes a meme.

While you're careful not to kiss in front of the paparazzi, you will occasionally hug or hold hands. But Timmy is a naturally touchy person with all his friends, so this doesn't necessarily mean anything.

Fans overanalyze EVERYTHING. Every touch, every look, every word. Funnily enough, the very thing you were trying to avoid when you first started dating is the thing that entertains you both now.

Occasionally, you'll post cheeky Instagram stories of you and Timmy doing debatably intimate things (his hand on your thigh as he drives or hugging at the airport) and the fans go FERAL.

Whenever you post photos of each other, Zendaya or Florence will always play along and comment something like, "Friend goals!!!🔥"

A literal WAR starts on Twitter. #TheyreFriends is trending. Your fans are in the trenches; the battle is bloody. You and Timothee are cuddling in bed, laughing at the whole thing. You still think it's crazy that people are so invested.

As time goes on, it gets more and more difficult to keep the charade up, and you both start getting restless. You want to be able to kiss in public or be able to go on romantic vacations without having to worry about who will see.

You both brainstorm cheeky ways to end it; the grand finale.

Across the world, your fans get an Instagram notification.

"(Y/N) has just posted!"

It's a series of wedding photos. The caption: "Upgraded to BEST friend😎"

Very Busy

Pairing: Timothée Chalamet x f!Reader. Summary: Desperate reader rides Timmy’s thigh while he’s working. Warnings: Smut, Dom!Timmy, thigh riding, language, teasing, begging. Word count: 635 A/N: Idk this one is mild as far as smut goes but pop off ig.

“Hi, Timmy,” you said, trying to keep your voice as innocent as possible.

“Hello, love,” he hummed. He didn’t look up from his desk, but he sounded pleasantly surprised. Usually, you never bothered him while he was working.

But today, you just couldn't help it.

Today, you needed him.

You crossed the room until you were right next to him, leaning against his desk. “Do you want to hang out with me?”

Finally, he looked up at you. Glanced down at the skirt he knew you had allowed to ride up on purpose. His unamused eyes met yours again before flicking back to the script he’d been analyzing for the past few hours. He could read you like a book; he knew what you wanted.

“Come here,” was all he said. You smirked, knowing exactly how he wanted you. You straddled his right leg, facing him. Your arms wrapped loosely around his neck, your head resting on his shoulder. You began rocking your hips against him.

It couldn’t have been more than five minutes, but you were already frustrated. You weren’t even close yet, and he wasn’t paying any attention to you at all. You stopped moving and huffed out a breath. 

“Need you,” you murmured into his neck.

“Keep going.” That was all the attention you were afforded. His eyes remained focused on scanning the papers in front of him, highlighting all of his lines and occasionally writing notes in the margins.

“But Timmy…” you whined, pulling back. You sat upright as your hand drifted down to his cock. You were not surprised to find it rock solid beneath his pants. “Can’t you just take a teeny tiny break? Please?”

You knew begging was fruitless; Timothée was nothing if not devoted to his job. Still, you figured you’d try to sway him. 

He smirked the tiniest bit; the only indication of your failure to persuade him. Your jaw clenched.

“I’m very busy, mon amour,” he replied. His tone was even, giving no indication that you were affecting him whatsoever. Perhaps that was the part that infuriated you the most. “I need to finish this. But if you’d rather wait until later-”

“No! No…” You pouted. “I can’t wait until later.”

His smirk deepend wickedly. “Then. Keep. Going.”

You huffed again as you returned your arms to their place around his neck and rested your head back down on his shoulder. Your skirt had ridden all the way up to your waist, the moisture that had already gathered between your legs now being contained by only a thin strip of underwear. You hoped you wouldn’t make a mess on his pants. Last time you did that, he wouldn’t let you cum for a week.

You began moving your hips again, the friction relieving some of your tension, but not enough.

“I don’t hear you, dear.”

You released the whimper you hadn’t realized was stuck in the back of your throat. 

“Much better.”

You moaned into his neck again, a little louder this time. He loved hearing you express your pleasure.

You moved faster, really trying to focus this time. Your breathing quickened, your moans becoming more frequent. Timmy lazily dragged a hand up your spine and you gasped. Even the most basic of touches from him could make your toes curl.

Your heart (and hips) raced as you felt your orgasm building. “Pleasepleaseplease-”

“Go ahead, love,” he said gently; affectionately. It was enough to push you over the edge.

You dug your nails into his back and moaned as your orgasm crashed through you. Your entire body trembled. You could still feel him rubbing your back lovingly, his touch sending tingles up and down your spine. 

“Good girl,” he murmured as the aftershocks subsided.

You whimpered again, placing a light kiss on his neck.