Babyflorencee - Untitled - Tumblr Blog

I feel so stupid but I trust people way to easily.

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!"

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.

Jealousy

Gilbert Blythe x fem!Reader

The sun dipped below the rolling hills of Avonlea, casting an amber glow across the landscape. Gilbert Blythe, with his characteristic disheveled hair and thoughtful gaze, strolled through the orchard, a place that had witnessed the blossoming of friendships and the unveiling of tangled emotions.

Avonlea was abuzz with preparations for the upcoming fair, a festivity Y/n L/n held dear in her heart. As Gilbert walked past the vibrant stalls and fluttering banners, he couldn't help but notice the vivacity in Y/n's step, her eyes sparkling with an enthusiasm that painted the world in hues of her imagination.

Yet, beneath Gilbert's calm exterior, a storm brewed. A quiet jealousy, like an unexpected visitor, had taken residence in his heart. It wasn't the kind born out of malice but rather a realization of the changing dynamics between them.

Yln, oblivious to the tempest within Gilbert, happily chatted with Cole and Diana, her laughter weaving into the summer breeze. As Gilbert observed from a distance, he couldn't shake the feeling that he was standing on the periphery of her universe.

His heart, usually steady as the Avonlea river, now raced with an unfamiliar cadence. Why did he feel this way? Gilbert grappled with the turmoil, his fingers absentmindedly tracing the edge of the fair's prize ribbon he held.

Later that day, under the canopy of stars, Gilbert found himself by the bridge, a place where moments unfolded like chapters in a story. The rhythmic sound of cicadas filled the air as Y/n approached, her gaze alighting upon Gilbert's contemplative silhouette.

"Hey, Gil. Are you alright?" Y/n inquired, a glimmer of concern in her eyes.

The words struggled to find their way out of Gilbert's mouth, but the truth, as elusive as it was, demanded expression. "Y/n, do you ever feel like things are changing, and you're not sure where you fit in anymore?"

Y/ns brow furrowed, a reflection of her confusion. "Change is a constant, Gilbert. But you'll always have a place in my heart. In my world." With the last sentence that left her mouth, her eyes softened, feeling sadness for the boy standing by her.

His heart, still entangled with vines of uncertainty, yearned for more. With a breath held in the quiet night, Gilbert spoke the words that fluttered within. "Y/n, it's not just about the changing world. It's about me, about us. It's about what we could possibly be. I can't stand on the sidelines anymore, y/n. I want to be more than a distant star in your sky."

It was a balm to Gilbert's restless heart, and yet, a lingering question remained unspoken. As they stood on the bridge, the moon casting its silver glow upon the water, the bond between them seemed to shimmer with an understanding beyond words.

Y/n's eyes widened, finally realizing the gravity of his confession. "Gilbert..."

Before she could say more, he took a step closer, his hand cupping her cheek. "I can't hold back any longer," he admitted, and in the soft glow of moonlight, he kissed her.

Their lips met, a silent promise of untold emotions and uncharted paths. The orchard witnessed the quiet culmination of a friendship blossoming into something more, as the stars overhead continued their timeless dance. In that stolen moment, Gilbert and Y/n discovered a new chapter in the story of Avonlea—a chapter written with ink that glistened with unspoken feelings.

Raindrop romance and puppy dog eyes

Stiles Stilinski x fem!Reader

I was at my locker, discussing the upcoming math test with Lydia when I felt a pair of arms wrapping around my waist from behind. “Boo!” I heard my idiotic boyfriend, Stiles, say.

With a grin, I slammed my locker shut and turned around to face him. “Hi baby,” he said, pulling me close in a warm embrace.

“Hey Stilinski, stealing my girl away from me again?” Lydia said, a playful frown on her face as she folded her arms.

"Um, excuse me, since when was she your girl? Did I miss something? Because last night, she was definitely moaning my name," Stiles responded, a smirk playing on his lips.

Lydia scoffed, delivering her response with an attitude, “well, I've known her longer."

"Well, that sucks because I don’t give a shit."

“Okay, guys, that’s enough,” I intervened, teasingly rolling my eyes to end their banter before it could escalate and potentially giving me a headache.

"But, he-" Lydia started, only to be cut off by Stiles. "Me?" He asked in mock shock, causing me to let out a groan.

"Can you both please shut up so I can go home?" I teased, grabbing Stiles by the arm and playfully dragging him out the door.

Once we stepped outside, heavy raindrops were falling. Turning to Stiles with a wide grin, I yelled, "tag!" and dashed toward his jeep.

"Oh, you little bitch! You’re so gonna get it!" He yelled back, chasing after me.

It didn't take him long to catch up, and before I knew it, he was grabbing my waist. "Tag!" He declared, out of breath, hugging me from behind. After a moment, I pushed his arms off of me and took off running. "Nope."

"Oh, you little dick." He yelled, attempting to catch up, but I was already in the car with the door locked before he could.

Reaching the driver's side, he tried to open the door, but frowning when he realized it was locked. He looked up with puppy dog eyes, causing me to return his gaze with a proud smile. “Baby, please open the door,” he whined, pressing his forehead against the glass, and knocking on the window, instantly making me cave in.

As soon as I unlocked the door, he rushed in, slamming it shut before rubbing his hands together in an attempt to get warm. “Can you turn on the heater please?”

Do I make you nervous?

Remus Lupin x fem!Reader

I was over at my boyfriend, Remus' house, in hopes of spending some time with him since he's been busy with school work. But it's been a couple of hours and he still hasn't given me any attention. "Remmy," I said, trying to get him to look up from what he was reading.

"Remus." I said again, after he ignored me the first time.

"Yes, love?" He asked, spinning around in his chair.

"Hi," I said, now realizing I had no idea what to say.

"Is that all?" he questioned, a confused expression painted on his face.

"Can you pay attention to me. Pretty please?" I implored him, giving him my best puppy dog look.

"Come here darling," he said, stretching his arms out for me.

I got up from his bed, walking over towards him, taking a seat on his lap as his arms wrapped around me. He spun back around, resting his chin on my shoulder so he could continue to read his paper. "Remmy." I whined, crossing my arms.

"I'm sorry love, but I have to finish this, then I'm all yours, I promise."

I let out a sigh, before getting off his lap and walking over to his bookshelf, grabbing the first book I saw and going back to his bed.

An hour has passed, and my body was sprawled out across his bed, the duvet was soft against my skin as I struggled to stay focused on the book. Since my eyes kept adverting back to Remus, who was still sitting at his desk working on a English paper. I let the book fall shut with a frustrated sigh, before tossing it aside and crawling under the duvet, deciding to just go to sleep since I was tired of waiting for him.

A little while later, I woke up to the sound of thunder, groaning in annoyance as I rubbed my face, trying to get my eyes to focus, before looking at the wrist watch, wondering how long I had been sleeping for. I let out a sigh at the fact that it had only been an hour. I sat up, about to yell at Remus again, when I realized that his desk was empty. Growing anxious, I looked around the room once before slumping down into the pillows, pulling the duvet up to my chin.

I attempted to fall back asleep, since it was pretty obvious he wasn't going to give me any attention today. I was half asleep when my eyes shot open, startled by the weight of somebody on top of me. I looked up to be met eye to eye with Remus. He was hovering over me, his arms propping himself up so that he wouldn't completely crush me. "morning babe," he said, chuckling a little at my startled expression.

I looked away, not wanting to see his face since I wanted to be mad at him for ignoring me earlier. "Come on love, look at me," He whined, putting his fingers under my chin, and forcing me to look up at him.

"pretty please," he asked with a pout. When I shifted my eyes away from his, he began kissing my neck and collarbone, trying to get me to give him attention. I tried to hold back a moan as he began to suck and bite down on my neck. "Rem," I said, putting one hand on the back of his head, pushing him more into me.

After a while, he brought his head up from my neck, grabbing my chin once again, his eyes hungrily adverting from my lips to my eyes, as he bit down on his bottom lip. I swallowed on nothing, trying my absolute hardest not to look in his eyes.

He brought his mouth down to my ear, "Do I make you nervous?" He whispered, trying not to laugh. 

"Maybe," I breathed out, feeling my face heat up.

He smiled proudly as he rolled over to my side, getting under the covers as well. "Good," he said, pulling me into his chest, as he closed his eyes, wanting nothing more than to cuddle and to go to sleep.

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

My flannel

Stiles Stilinski x fem!Reader

I awoke to an involuntary shiver coursing through my body. Instinctively, I stretched my arm out in search of my boyfriend, Stiles, but he wasn't there. Emitting a disheartened groan, I shifted my focus towards Stiles' side of the bed, only to discover the window agape, permitting the morning sun to cascade within, its brilliance so intense it could potentially blind those who dared to gaze in its direction. Flipping on my back, I rubbed away the remnants of sleep from my eyes before lifting the sheets away from my nearly exposed form. The moment that the fabric was off my body, the wintry breeze made its presence known, caressing my bare arms and legs. I got out of bed, stumbling over towards the window, almost falling down multiple times, but eventually managing to close and lock it.

I looked around the room, seeing my clothes scattered about. Sighing, I made my way to the open closet, rummaging through Stiles' collection of flannels and jackets until I found the one I wanted to wear. I pulled a multi-colored flannel out of his closet, putting it over my shoulders, and buttoning up all the buttons before descending out of his room, making my way down the stairs and into his kitchen.

Immediately upon entering the room, I saw Stiles sitting at the island table, scrolling through his phone. Sneaking up behind him, I wrapped my arms loosely around his neck, before placing multiple kisses from his jaw to his cheek "Morning," he mumbled, leaning back into my arms.

"Hey Sti," I murmured into his neck.

After a few minutes of staying in that position, I reluctantly pulled away, only to perch myself upon his lap moments later. Settling into a crisscrossed posture, I leaned back into his chest. "Am I just a chair to you?" He teased, a laugh accompanying his joke.

"Yes, and my own personal footrest," I retorted, offering a bratty smile before quickly turning away.

"Ouch, I feel so used." He faux- pouted, before dramatically placing a hand over his heart as if it was wounded.

Glancing back at him, I noticed his gaze fixed upon me. However, he wasn't looking at my face; he was looking at what I was wearing. He bit his lip before speaking up. "Is this mine?" He lightly pinched a portion of the fabric, tugging it lightly.

"No, it's mine," I asserted, looking down at my hands.

"Are you sure? Because I'm pretty sure that belongs to me," he said, trying to bite back a laugh.

My eyes widened at the thought of being caught, as my protectiveness over the flannel intensified. "My shirt," I declared, arms crossed defensively as I turned my head to the side, a pout on my face, as I hoped that Stiles wouldn't make me give his flannel back.

Stiles lifted his cup of coffee to his lips, all while looking me dead in the eyes. "What does that say?" He asked, pointing to his name that was written on the the tag.

"Fine, it's yours," I said, sighing in defeat.

"I like how it looks on you," he pressed a light kiss to my temple, quietly laughing at the way my eyes lit up.

"Does that mean I can keep it?" I asked, offering the widest smile I could muster.

"Absolutely not. But you can wear it whenever you want." He said, his hands settling on my thighs, as he rubbed his hands up and down.

"I'll take it!" I said, grabbing his coffee and drinking out of it before making a face of disgust.

"Ew, what did you put in this?" I questioned, frowning as he laughed at me.

"I didn't put anything in it, it's just coffee," he explained, pointing to the dark liquid in the cup.

"This is disgusting," I said, pouting even more as his laughter persisted.

Ignored ignorance

Merry Christmas!!

Stiles Stilinski x fem!Reader

Stiles' and I had gotten out of an adequately heated argument a couple of hours ago. He was infuriated with me because he thought that I was flirting with another man when I wasn't. So I've been ignoring him ever since. Now I'm not mad at him because he wrongfully accused of something that I didn't do, and would never do. But, I'm mad because he screamed at me nonstop for an hour before talking it out with me first.

It was currently midnight, and I was in the guest bedroom because I didn't want to be anywhere near him. I was on my phone texting Lydia when I heared a faint knock on the door. Knowing it's Stiles, I put my phone down, pretending like I'm sleeping. "Y/n?" I hear him whisper, trying to quietly open the door but failing miserably.

"Y/n, I know you're awake."

I just ignore him, trying to pretend like he isn't in the room. A couple of minutes go by and I'm just about to drift off to sleep when I feel the bed dip and an arm loosely wrapped around my waist. He put his mouth against my ear and whispers, "I'm so sorry, my love. Please come back to bed." His apology was so quiet I could just barely hear what he said.

I still don't say anything. I always end up caving in but I don't want to this time. He can't yell at me like that and expect me to forgive him so easily. "Y/n, I know you're awake. Baby please, I can't sleep without you beside me." He whines, but I still ignore him.

I feel him tighten his arm against my waist, pulling me into his chest and nuzzling his face into my hair, pressing light kisses all over my head. "I need you." And with just those three words, everything he did was completely forgotten.

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.

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.

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,"

P.s I love you

Peter Parker x fem!Reader

It was around midnight and I was sitting down at my desk, trying to complete my English paper that's due in the morning. I was finishing up the 3rd paragraph when I heard the sound of light tapping noises on my window. Knowing it was most likely my boyfriend Peter, I got up and walked over to the window, opening it for him.

When I pulled back the drapes, a light gasp escaped my mouth at the sight that was in-front of me. Peter was in his spiderman suit, which was littered with rips and stains. He had a black eye, a busted lip, and his entire body was stained with what I believe, and in the back of my mind, what I hoped, was his own blood.

I quickly unlocked the window, helping him in. "What the hell happened to you?" I whisper shouted.

He lifted his right leg over, stumbling into my room. I quickly grabbed onto his arm, trying to help him stabilize. I dragged him over to my bed, kneeling down in front of his legs, to examine his current state.

He had his head down, trying to not make eye contact with me. I let out a huff of annoyance as I got up from my kneeling position, "Wait here," I said, leaving my room so I could get some supplies.

Once I came back, he was sitting down on my bed, with the top of his suit off, revealing his toned abs. I walked over towards him, crouching down, giving him my best disappointed look. "Look—" He started, but I cut him off.

"I don't want to hear it."

Was that a little harsh? Yes, yes, it was.

But in my defense, he promised me that he'd take a break from fighting today, since he was already badly injured from a fight he had lost a few days ago. It hasn't even been 4 hours and he has already broken his promise.

Once I finished cleaning the blood off his face and chest, I left the room once again to dump out the blood-soaked water and to wash my hands. "Y/n, please don't be mad at me," Peter said, giving me his puppy dog eyes.

I ignored him, walking over to my dresser, pulling out a pair of basketball shorts and an oversized t-shirt, which originally belong to Peter. I tossed it at him, sitting down at my desk so I could finish my essay.

A couple minutes go by and I hear him shuffling around. I assume, so he could change out of his suit. "Y/n—" He whined, hugging me from behind, and sticking his head into my neck.

"What?" I replied, harshly.

He spun my chair around so I was facing him. "I'm sorry," he said, taking my face into his hands and pressing a light kiss to my lips.

"Please forgive me?"

"Fine, but you better not show up at my window tomorrow all bloody," I said, pointing my index finger at him and giving him a jokingly stern look.

"yes ma'am," he laughed, pressing another kiss to my lips.

"Can we cuddle now?" He opened his arms wide, giving me a goofy smile.

I laughed at his expression. "I got to finish this." I said, showing him my computer.

"I'll do it for you if we can cuddle right now." He offered, raising an eyebrow.

"Fine," I gave in, knowing that if he did my assignment, I would most likely get a higher grade on the paper than I would if I did it.

I stood up from my chair to be immediately thrown over his shoulder. He walked over towards my bed, throwing me harshly on it before he got in as well, laying down on top of me and burying his head into the crook of my neck, his hair tickling me a little. "Good night Petey," I said.

He took his head out of my neck, giving me a disgusted look, making me laugh once again at his face expression. "Night," He mumbled, falling asleep on me.

*** The next morning, I woke up to be greeted by an empty bed. I groaned, sitting up as I looked at the clock. A small gasp escaped my lips when I realized that I was about to be late for school. I got up, sloppily putting on my outfit, before walking over towards my desk, praying that Peter hadn't forgotten to do the assignment. I scrolled down, feeling my heart flutter at what he had written. Not only did he finish my paper, but he also wrote a brief note at the bottom.

'Sorry, I had to leave. I didn't want to deal with Aunt May. Meet me under the bleacher at lunch. PS. I love you.'

I love you

Dylan O'brien x fem!Reader

I leaned the side of my head against Dylan’s arm as I watched him type on his keyboard. I was bored, to say the least, but as of right now, it didn't really matter to me. I was content with just being in the presence of my boyfriend.

I looked up, admiring his features, as I smiled, happy with the fact that he was indeed mine and only mine. "Are you bored?" Dylan asked, looking down at me with a smile on his face.

I shook my head, snuggling up more into his arm, causing him to laugh, "I'm almost done," he whispered into my ear, before placing a kiss on my forehead.

I closed my eyes, letting myself drown in his aroma, as I slowly started to drift asleep.

***

I woke up in Dylan's bed, letting out a groan as I sat up. I looked over at his clock to see that I had been asleep for more than an hour. I let out a shiver as I pulled his covers off my body, now realizing just how cold it was in his room. I made my way over towards Dylan's wardrobe, grabbing the first sweater I could find, putting it on as I went to go look for him.

I walked down the stairs and into the kitchen to see him sitting down on the couch, remote in his hand as he clicked through channel to channel, in the search to find something interesting. "Hey babe," he said, patting down a spot next to him, not taking his eyes off the television.

"Hey love," I replied, making my way over towards him, taking a seat on his lap.

I buried the side of my head against his chest as I felt his free hand wrap around me. "What are you watching?" I asked, looking up at him.

He let out a sigh before turning the television off. "Nothing, there's nothing good on," he said, now directing his full attention to me.

I acknowledged him by nodding my head before wrapping my arms and legs around him, wanting to feel his body as close to mine as possible.

We stayed in that position for a while, the both of us soaking in the soothing feeling of each other's embrace, content with the monotonous, yet oddly comforting silence. "I love you," I said, breaking the silence.

"I love you too," he said back, placing a small kiss on my cheek.

We stayed in that position for a while longer. We had our eyes closed and a wide smile plastered on our faces. As every now and then, one of us would slowly inch closer to the other, trying to not only be able to feel but to be able to absorb the warmth generated between the both of our bodies.

You're stuck with me

Regulus Black x fem!Reader

"I just don't understand why you're so upset over this," I said, with a confused expression.

"Y/n, how can you be so stupid? That guy was hitting on you harder than a hammer to a nail, and he was so damn obvious about it!" Regulus yelled, roughly running his hand through his Brown locks.

This had been going on for around 2 hours. All the yelling, screaming, and insults that were being spat at each other, just to prove a point, that neither of us was able to get across.

Why was Regulus so mad, you might ask? Well, he's mad because some guy at a diner asked for my phone number, and was just overall hitting on me the whole night, even though he was well aware that I was with Reggie. However, if it wasn't for Regulus' trust issues and lack of self-control, maybe we wouldn't have left the guy limp on the floor with a bullet between his eyes. "What? Am I not good enough for you so you have to go out and seek attention from other people!" he yelled, face red with anger.

Regulus has always been insecure about our relationship. He thought I deserved better, so when he said that, my heart immediately broke. However, I was still mad at him.

"Trust me babe, you're more than enough! But that's not what the problem is!" I yelled back, getting more and more annoyed with him.

"Then please, enlighten me with what the problem is!" He yelled, throwing his arms in the air like a madman.

"You want to know what the problem is? You're way too clingy, and you're jealous ALL the damn time. Like I get, I'm yours and only yours! Reg, we are literally engaged. I'm not going anywhere, so why the fuck can't you get that through that thick head of yours?" I yelled back, not thinking about what I was saying. However, what I said hurt him, and he wasn't about to let that comment slide.

"Jealous? Well, excuse me for not being content with the idea of another man's hands all over that body of yours. You know, the body that's mine, and only mine to see and touch!" The whole fight was pointless; we both knew this, but neither of us wanted to back down.

Regulus and I have been in a relationship for a little over 3 years. We very clearly loved each other with all our hearts. We have only fought four times in our entire relationship, but this fight was different, but in the worst way possible. The intrusive thought of Reggie and me breaking up started to seem less crazy.

"Listen, I don't like sharing. I never have, and I absolutely refuse to share you. I don't want to fight about this anymore. It's silly. Can we just agree to disagree that the whole thing is that guy's fault?" He said, as he opened his arms out for me, with a hopeful expression.

I didn't respond. I just walked over towards him, engulfing him in a tight hug. Regulus immediately starts burying his head into my neck, holding onto me as if I was going to disappear any minute. Once we pulled away, he refused to look at me, instead; he looked at the floor. "Can we cuddle?" He asked, his voice so quiet I could barely make out what he said.

"Of course," I took his hand in mine, smiling up at him.

Once we got to mine and Regulus' bedroom, I was immediately pulled on the bed, being crushed by Regulus' weight. After a few minutes of sitting in silence, I knew something was on his mind. "Hey Reg, what's wrong?" I asked, already having an idea of what he was going to say.

He sighed, rolling off of me so that he was on his side of the bed. "I hate fighting with you," he said, his voice breaking.

I pulled him into a tight hug, wishing that the fight had never happened. "I was scared, for a minute there, that we were going to break up," he mumbled, into my shoulder.

"Never in a million years," I whispered into his ear, entangling my hand into his hair.

"You're stuck with me," I said, laughing a little.

We lay back down, grasping onto each other as if our lives depended on it. "I'm glad that's over," Reg said, placing a kiss on my cheek, yawning.

"Night love," I said, rubbing his lower back until I eventually fell asleep.

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."

Haunted House

Jonathan Crane x fem!Reader

"Johnny, please. I don't want to go in," I whined, tugging on the sleeve of my best friend, as we started to near the entrance.

"Come on darling, I'll be right next to you the whole time," he said, intertwining our fingers together, giving my hand a small but reassuring squeeze.

I nodded my head, holding on to his hand tighter when I realized we were the next people in line to go in. "Okay, next," the lady said, nodding her head to Jonathan and I.

"Have fun," she sinisterly said, smiling widely at us, causing me to hug Jonathan as if my life depended on it.

"Don't be scared, love, she says that to everyone," he said, laughing a little as he hugged me back.

We walked through the blood-stained door to be greeted with a room that looked identical to a meat locker. Taking a deep breath, I looked around the room noticing that there were meat hooks, hanging animals, hanging body part, black and white flashing lights making it harder to see, not to mention the room was so cold that smoke appeared whenever someone talked, or even breathed.

I looked over at Jonathan, seeing an amused look on his face. He had this psychopathic, crazed look in his eyes, making me nervous at the thought of this amusing him. "Jon, I don't like this," I whispered, looking up at him.

"How? This is so fascinating. The affects the smoke, the blood, the animals, not to mention the screams. Don't you like it?" He said, smiling like a little boy who just got handed ice cream. 

I knew he liked these things. He has been trying to convince me to go with him to a haunted house for years. But something about him getting pleasure from other people's fears seemed a bit off to me. But I never really cared to think about it. I was just grateful enough at the fact that he let me cling onto him, since he was the polar opposite of affectionate. He hated giving and receiving any form of affection.

"No, I don't Jon," I said, giving him a weird look as he just rolled his eyes in response. 

We kept walking for what seemed as if forever, when all of a sudden, this overly tall guy that was wearing a white apron with blood and slashes all over it and who was carrying a big, butcher knife, jumps from behind the door causing me to let out the loudest, blood curling scream I had ever heard. I practically jumped onto Jonathan, burying my head into his neck, on the verge of tears, as he was now forced to carry me.

All he did was let out a laugh, reaching over a little to pat me on the head, "It's okay little one, I'm here to protect you." The mockery in his tone being very apparent.

After the second jump scare, I ended up forcing Jonathan to carry me until we reached the end of the haunted house, making him swear on my life that he will never bring me to another one of these things ever again. 

Fuck it

Stiles Stilinski x fem!Reader

"Stiles, shut up the fuck up," I whispered, trying my hardest to contain my laughter.

Stiles and I were in literature class, sitting next to each other, which normally would be a good, effective thing. But, however, for some reason, he wouldn't stop putting his cold hands under my shirt me.

He reached over towards me for the fourth time in this class, trying to stick his hands under my sweater. However, I slapped his hand away before he could reach my stomach, causing a loud noise to fill up the classroom. "L/n, Stilinski, care to explain what's going on back there?" Our teacher asked, giving us his best disappointed face, but we knew that he loves us way too much to actually be mad at us.

"No, sir," I said in a polite tone, but I was flipping Stiles off under the table.

"Okay, well, back to what I was saying-" the teacher continued, but I tuned him out after the first couple of words.

I was scribbling down random shapes on my paper when I felt Stiles'  cold hands reach under my sweater, pressing against my stomach. "Holy fuck!" I screamed, a little too loudly.

"Okay, that's it. Out of my class right now!" The teacher yelled. This time, he wasn't joking around.

We awkwardly gathered our things, before exiting the class, but as soon as the door shut, we both broke down laughing. "As unfortunate as the situation was, you have to admit; it was pretty funny." He said. 

 "Fuck you, dipshit," I said, shoving my hip into Stiles'.

"You love me," he said, flicking my forehead.

We were walking down the hallways until we decided to take a backtrack and just go on the roof instead of the principal's office. And since Literature was the last class of the day, it didn't really matter that much is we dipped. 

We were sitting down on the edge of the building, talking about the most randomest things when Stiles cut me off. "Hey n/n, can I ask you something?" he asked, looking down as he nervously fidgeting with his rings.

"Yeah, of course,"

"Well, I ju–I just wanted to–fuck it." He said, grabbing onto my face, pulling me into a kiss.

Once we broke apart, his eyes anxiously looked at mine, hoping I shared the same feelings as him, but after I didn't respond, he scrunched his face up. "Y/n, I'm so sorry. I wasn't thinking–"

I cut him off by pressing my lips back to his, except this time when he went to pull away from me, I wrapped my arms around his neck, holding him in place. After a while I pulled away, sending him a smile. "I like you," I said, red tinting my cheeks.

"I like you too," he responded, going to kiss me for the third time, but got cut off by the school bell.

"Guess that's our cue," he said, getting off the ledge, and helping me to get off as well.

"Bye Stiles," I said, kissing his cheek, before walking out the door.

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.

Cigarettes

Timothée Chalamet x fem!Reader

An unwanted, yet all so familiar scent filled the room as I tossed and turned in bed, waking up, but not being able to go back to sleep. I turned to my side, not really expecting, but rather hoping that I would see my husband, Timothée, but he wasn't there. I looked around the room until I saw a bare back sitting in the corner, hunched over a desk. Yesterday he talked about some paperwork he needed to do, so I'm assuming he's finishing that up.

He had a cigarette; or, as I liked to call it, a cancer in between his lips. As he inhales, moving it away for a moment, exhaling, as the smoke leaves his mouth in numerous, perfectly formed rings.

The room quickly starts to feel stuffy, as if the walls were caving in on me. I walked over to the window that was to the side of our bedroom, feeling as if I could suffocate at any given moment. I quickly opened the window, taking a long, deep breath as I bathed in the fresh air. Thinking to myself about how I will never take nature for granted anymore. I let the cold air slowly consume the room, sighing with relief as the cigarette smell already started to fade.

The winter breeze hits my exposed legs, as I just now realized I was only in my underwear and one of Timothée's old white button ups. "Morning," he mumbles, not glancing up from his paper, taking another breath of his fake air.

I start heading towards our bathroom, a cough escaping my mouth as I splash cold water in my face, hoping to help relive the throbbing pain in my upper head. But to my dismay, it only made it worse. My head starting to pound from the smoke. The throbbing sensation, now taking a hold of my entire face, as I let out a whimper, wondering to myself why he puts me through this kind of pain every morning.

I exited the bathroom, dizzily walking over to Tim's desk, "Could you either take that elsewhere or put it out already? It's fucking hard to breathe in here!" I said rather harshly. I never meant to sound rude, but using a tone was the only efficient way to make him listen. 

He takes a glance over at me for a second, shock written all over his face. But none the less he listened. He held up one hand in defence while the other put the cigarette out. "Sorry, love," he said with a sigh, running his hands through his brown-colored hair.

I rolled my eyes at him before walking over to the window once again. I heard him getting up from his seat, feeling his toned arms wrapping around my waist not even a second later, bringing instant warmth to my body. He bent down slightly so he could nuzzle his head into my neck, causing me to cringe at the coldness of his nose. He began planting small kisses from my shoulder, all the way to the top of my neck, causing me to shrug him off. "Are you ever gonna quit?" I asked slightly hesitantly, needing to confront him about his issue but at the same time not wanting him to be mad at me.

I could see his shocked face from the reflection of the window. "Stop what?" he asked, now putting on a confused face.

I let out a tired sigh, turning around to face him, "Oh, come on, Timothée Hal, don't be an idiot right now." I snapped at him, crossing my arms.

"Love, I have no idea what you're talking about," he calmly said, only making me more upset with him.

"Like you don't know. You always smell like cigarettes, and I'm tired of having to ruin my own lungs for your unhealthy habits." I said, not looking him in the eyes.

"Come on, it's not that bad," he said, obviously irritated that I brought the subject up.

"It is 6 in the damn morning, Timothée, and you've already smoked enough today to make this whole fucking room suffocate me!" I scoffed, tearing up slightly.

"How many have you had today? Three, five, six, nine!" I yelled. 

"I've had three, it's not that bad," he snapped, starting to walk away from me.

"Oh, it's not that bad? Well, my mistake for thinking having three cigarettes at six in the damn morning is concerning. I don't know why you're acting as if I'm some kind of idiot. I know that you always have at least two full packs on you at all times. But yeah, my fucking bad for worrying about my husband." I said, following close behind him as tears started to form in my eyes, clouding up my vision.

"Okay, I fucking get it!" He yelled, slamming his hands down on a table, causing me to gasp.

"But you don't! We have had this conversation countless other times and you give me the same answer every single fucking time! You say you'll try to quit and that you would do anything for me, but it doesn't mean shit right now, and quit frankly I'm fucking terrified that it won't ever! Why can't you see how much this is affecting me, affecting you?" I screamed back, my heart breaking at the sight of him tensing up as all signs of anger clears from his face.

"Listen, I get it. It's fun for now, but I can't sit back in silence anymore as I watch you slowly kill yourself. I love you way too much for that." I said, my voice breaking as tears were now fully rolling down my cheeks.

He reached his hand up to my face, lightly wiping the tears away, before pressing a kiss on both of my cheeks "I love you too, but it's not that easy to quit, you know," he said, both of his hands now cupping my face as he placed numerous kisses to the side of my head.

"I know baby, but have you even tried?"

"Yes." He mumbled, now looking down.

I rolled my eyes, "whatever then. I'm leaving until you get your problem sorted out." I said, pushing him off of me as I started to walk away, but before I could even take two steps, I feel him grabbing my wrist and pulling me towards him, into a hug.

"Please don't go, baby, I'm so sorry. I promise I'll stop. Just please don't go." He said, pressing sloppy kisses all around my face. 

"Don't make promises you can't keep."

"I will, y/n please, just don't go. I love you so much." He said, holding onto me as if he were about to fall to his death. 

I brought my hand up to his hair, slightly tugging on the roots of it, placing a small peck on his forehead. After a while, I loosened out of his grip, walking over to the jacket hook, where his cigarettes lied. "So you wouldn't care if I threw these away?" I questioned, holding up three packs of cigarettes, one almost empty but two of them not even opened yet.

He stared at me for a while, taking a deep breath, before taking the packs from my hand, quickly walking over to the restroom before emptying them into the toilet, flushing them quickly, and disregarding the packaging in the trash. Causing the biggest smile to form on my face.

"Give me one second, there's more," he said, walking over to his desk, opening the drawer up and pulling out one more pack, doing the same to that pack as he did to the last three.

He turned to face me, pulling me into another hug. "I love you so much," he said, kissing all over my face, causing me to laugh. 

"I know baby." I said, jokingly, laughing at his scrunched up face. 

"I can always buy more cigarettes." He said with a straight face, trying his best to hold in a laugh.

 "I love you too, Timothée Hal." I said, pushing his head down a little by his hair, forcing him to kiss me.