Dad Timothe Chalamet - Tumblr Posts
Chart (+1)
Summary: Bonus chapter to "Chart" as requested by @croatianprincess. Timothée decompresses after you (female reader) are home from the hospital.
C/W: Mention of injury, car accident, pregnancy
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Timothée lovingly gazed down at the bundle in his arms, bouncing and swaying. He hummed softly a French lullaby his father had sang to him.
Father.
He was a father now. The realization cycled through his brain every few minutes. It left him breathless. Speechless. Awed by the immensity of the emotions roiling inside. Love. Worry. Pride. All he could do in these moments was stare at his daughter and take in her tiny features. Timothée was mesmerized. She already looked so much like you.
His thoughts were interrupted when she started to squirm and fuss. "Shh, baby girl. Daddy's here. Let's try to let Mommy sleep a little longer." He looked over at your hospital bed where you slept, splayed out like a starfish now that you could finally sleep on your back again.
Flashback
About eight months ago, Timothée brought you home from the same hospital. Despite the state of your car, you (and the baby you just found out about) were relatively unscathed. That didn't make Timothée fuss over you any less, though. He parked his car in the driveway of your home and ran around to your side to open your door. Your leg still hurt when you put all your weight on it, so helped you hobble inside.
Once you were seated on the couch, Timothée pilfered nearly every pillow from the guest bedroom and brought them to you. He fluffed them before placing them behind and around you so you could comfortably recline and prop up your injured leg.
"Comfy?" he asked.
"I feel like I am sitting on a cloud."
"Good, that was the goal." He kissed you on the forehead then went to the garage. You wondered what he was up to, but you were too tired to ask. He came back in a moment with the bucket you use to wash the car.
"Umm," he gestured sheepishly with the bucket before setting it beside you. "Just in case you...you know, feel sick at some point."
You gave him a puzzled look before it registered what your husband was talking about. "Oh yeah...I'm pregnant!" It was the first time you had actually said it out loud since Timothée told you the news at the hospital.
"How do you feel?" he inquired as he sat on the edge of the couch cushion beside you. He took your hand in his and absent-mindedly rubbed your knuckles with his thumb.
"To be honest, except for the soreness, I don't feel any different. I think it would have been a while longer before I figured it out for myself."
"I'm sorry you had to find out that way," he muttered.
You chuckled. "I think *you* telling *me* instead of the other way around makes for an interesting story."
Timothée smiled briefly before his lip started trembling. Your hand went to his cheek, your thumb first tugging at his lip then catching the first of the fountain of tears that fell from his eyes. "Hey, what's wrong?"
He leaned into your touch and covered your hand with his. "[Y/N], I...I was so scared when I got that call from the hospital. I knew they said you were stable, but when I saw you unconscious, I-" His voice broke and he started to sob. The adrenaline had worn off and he was crashing hard. You pulled him down to you and cradled his head on your chest.
"...and th-then they said you were p-pregnant," Timothée continued, his speech stilted by his quick breaths. You ran your fingers through his hair in an attempt to soothe him. "I've never been s-so happy and so afraid at one time. What if you didn't wake up? What if the baby-" He couldn't finish before he started to spiral once again. He buried his face in your shoulder and fisted his hands in your shirt.
In an effort to ground him, you pulled one of his hands to your belly. "Timothée, I am fine. WE are fine." You felt him nod into your shoulder, but he still maintained his grip on your shirt with his other hand like he was afraid you would float away. You continued to play with his hair for a few minutes until his breathing evened out.
"I love you so much, [Y/N]," he mumbled into your neck. "And this baby already. The thought of losing either of you was just too much to bear."
"I am here, my love. I'm not planning on going anywhere."
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Masterlist
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Still Here (Chapter 11)
Summary: Madison starts school, you find a job, and your family finds a new normal until Timothée calls you with bad news. You and Madison help him through his loss.
C/W: Death, funeral of a parent/grandparent
Catch up on previous chapters here.
Time flew by after that night as you and your family (including Timothée) found your new normal. Madison started school again and quickly acclimated to her new surroundings. She joined gardening and ukulele clubs and thrived socially and academically.
You stumbled upon a part-time job at the library as a grant writer. You visited frequently to get out of the house and use the wi-fi for job hunting (AKA away from your mother reading over your shoulder). One day, you spotted a flyer on their bulletin board and inquired. They needed help finding funding for more youth and adult programs, and you needed a job and enjoyed writing. It was also flexible enough that you could be available for Madison's school functions. Win-win.
In your excitement, you rushed over to Timothée's place. He stepped out of his workshop at the sound of wheels crunching the gravel. A broad grin painted his face when he saw you get out of the car.
"Hey, baby!" he called as he walked up to you. "This is an unusual time for a visit. Not that I'm complaining, of course." He gave you a quick peck of a kiss.
You set your hands on his shoulders. "Remember that night we were fighting about me leaving for school, and I said I have a lot to offer the world and can't do that from here?"
Timothée paled as his smile dropped, unsure what you were about to say next. "Yeah...?"
"I still have a lot to offer the world, but I finally figured out I can do that from here. For here." You clasped your hands and clapped as you jumped up and down slightly. "I got a job at the library as a grant writer!"
It took a brief moment for Timothée to catch up to what you were saying before he joined you in your excitement. "That's fantastic, babe!" He wrapped you in a nearly crushing hug and spun you around. You beamed up at him when he set you back down.
"It's wonderful to see you so happy," he added as he looked down into your eyes.
"I am happy. The happiest I have been in nearly a decade."
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Things were looking up as you got into the groove of your new job. You and Timothée fell into a rhythm of alternating family dinners with your respective parents and date nights for just the two of you. He was also very intentional about making time to hang out with Madison. Once they discovered their shared love of bowling after he introduced her to the sport, it became their "thing" every Tuesday evening, along with dinner at the diner...
...until the Tuesday after Thanksgiving.
It was odd for Timothée to call or text you during the work day. He was very respectful of giving you space to concentrate on your writing and didn't want to be a distraction. You answered immediately, knowing it must be important.
"Hey, Timmy, what's up?"
You heard him sniffle on the other end of the line. "My dad, he-" He couldn't finish before he was overtaken by sobs, but you knew what we has trying to say. You gasped slightly.
"Timmy, where are you?"
"H-home."
"Stay put. I will be right there." You packed up your things and told your boss you were leaving. You sped to the Chalamet's and went to Timothée's house first. It was dark inside, but that didn't prevent you from banging on the locked door. You were met with silence. Next, you ran over to his dad's house. Thankfully the door was unlocked, allowing you to quietly enter. You found Timothée in the living room curled up in his dad's favorite armchair. You sat on your knees in front of him and buried your fingers in his dark curls.
"Oh, Timmy..."
He looked at you, but his eyes were blank. His voice sounded so tiny as he explained, "Dad was tired, so he went to take a nap when I went out to the workshop. Not abnormal these days. But when I came back to check on him..." He interrupted himself by trying to clear the lump in his throat.
You looked up toward the bedrooms. "Is he..."
Timothée shook his head. "No, uh, he's not here. I called 9-1-1, just in case, but he was gone. The funeral home where he had already made arrangements picked him up. [Y/N], he looked so...peaceful. I hadn't seem him not in pain in years. H-he got his w-wish to die at home in his sleep." His face contorted as he was riddled with sobs once more. You pulled his head to your chest and rubbed soothing circles on his back. Once he calmed back down to an all but catatonic state, you laid his head back down on the armrest and stepped away to call your mother to ask her to pick up Madison from school.
"You should go get Madison," he stated plainly when you returned.
"My mom can go pick her up. I am not leaving you here alone, love."
"Alone," he repeated with a slightly terrified and downcast look.
"Hey now," you responded in a soothing tone as you sank back down to your knees. "Even in the moments when you may be physically by yourself, you are not alone, Timothée Hal Chalamet." You made sure his eyes connected with yours before you continued. "You're stuck with me, remember? You have people who love you and will help you through this." You kissed his forehead before he pushed himself upright into a seated position.
"Thank you," Timothée replied solemnly, almost too quietly for you to even hear.
"I can either stay here tonight, or you can come to our place. Mom already offered."
He nodded, contemplating the options. "I don't want to be here right now, but I'm also not quite ready to leave yet, either."
"I understand. Take your time." You stood and squeezed his shoulder as you walked by to the kitchen. Doing the dishes and taking out the trash seemed like a helpful way to keep yourself occupied while he mentally prepared for next steps. After a while, he joined you in the kitchen. He hugged you from behind and rested his chin on your shoulder as you dried the last of the plates.
"Thank you for dropping everything for me."
You leaned your ahead away from his slightly so you could turn your neck to look at him. "It was an easy decision. You needed me. I am here."
"Dad likes...liked...you a lot, you know." You turned your body all the way around to look at Timothée, though you struggled to hide your tears. "And he was absolutely besotted with Madison. Thank you for all the times you brought her over here for dinner. He enjoyed spending time with both of you. I think...I think he even thought of her as a grandchild by the end." You gave him a warm half-smile and nodded in agreement. "Can we go see her now? It's Tuesday."
You looked at your watch. "She should be home now." You walked with Timothée to his house so he could grab some clothes. He usually wanted to take his truck when the two of you went anywhere, but he relented to letting you drive your car this time.
As expected, your mother was already back from the school. She met the two of you on the porch and embraced Timothée. "I'm so sorry, dear."
"Thank you, Mrs. [L/N]." He heard the screen door shut and looked up to see Madison standing by the porch swing, rubbing one arm with the opposite hand nervously. His face softened as he knelt down and held a hand out to her. Madison stepped forward and took it into her own.
"Hey, kiddo. I'm sorry that we can't go out like normal tonight."
"It's okay," the girl practically whispered. "Nana told me what happened." Her face crumpled as she started to cry. You stepped forward instinctually to comfort your daughter, but instead, she threw her arms around Timothée's neck. He quickly wrapped his arms around her in return. He looked up at you with fat tears welling in the corners of his eyes as he was overcome by a mix of emotions.
You placed a hand over your mouth to hold back your own surge of sobs at the display between your two loves. Your mother stepped to your side and draped her arm around your shoulders. Madison had not yet had to face the pain of losing a grandparent, and while he wasn't one by blood, she had grown close to Mr. Chalamet. This was a hurt you could not shield her from.
Madison pulled away, wiping her nose on her sleeve. "I'm sorry. I got your shoulder wet."
Timothée's lip trembled. "Never apologize for tears, okay?" He cupped her small cheek in his hand and wiped a fresh tear away with his thumb. He pulled her in for another hug, this time for his own comfort.
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The funeral was held a few days later. Timothée walked into your living room in his black suit. Under other circumstances, you would have commented on how handsome he looked. Instead, you stood and straightened his tie. He grabbed your hand and pressed it against his chest.
"Please sit with me when we get there," he said softly. "Both of you."
You nodded. "I will, but I will give Madison a choice. This is the first funeral she has ever attended. Let me go talk to her."
You found her sitting outside on the porch swing in her black dress. "Hey, sweetheart. You doing okay?" you asked as you sat beside her. She just nodded. "Timothée asked us to sit with him at the funeral. He is going to sit on the front row, which is usually where immediate family sits. I want to give you a choice. There are going to be a lot of big emotions in the room."
"I want to be with Timothée. He needs us," she stated like it was the obvious - and only - option.
You kissed her forehead and pulled her to you. "My sweet girl. So selfless. If at any point you get too overwhelmed, you can go find Nana and Pawpaw. Okay?"
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It was a beautiful celebration of life. The townspeople showed up en masse to pay their respects at both the funeral home and graveside service. Madison was a trooper and stayed by Timothée's side the entire time until everyone else had left the cemetery.
You pulled Madison aside and started toward the truck to give Timothée a moment of privacy before the casket was lowered. She followed you hesitantly but lost her will to comply when she heard him start crying. She spun and ran back to him, gingerly slipping her hand into his as they both faced the casket. He looked down, first at their clasped hands and then at Madison's face.
"I didn't want you to be alone."
Tears spilled out of Timothée's eyes as he smiled. "Thanks, kiddo." He dipped down and picked her up for a hug. She clung to him like a baby koala. He stood like that for a moment, staring at his father's coffin over his almost-daughter's shoulder, silently thanking him for showing him how to be a good dad.
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Chapter 12
Masterlist
Tag List:
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@bluizh
@jindongdongie
@groovyqueer
Still Here (Chapter 12)
Summary: Timothée spends Christmas with you and your family. A happier chapter than the last two.
C/W: Brief mention of parent's death
Catch up on previous chapters here.
Both you and your mother insisted that Timothée come over and spend the night on Christmas Eve so he would not wake up alone Christmas Day. It had only been three weeks since his father passed, and you knew the holiday was going to be hard for him.
Timothée showed up as you and Madison were making cookies in the kitchen. Long past the days of knocking, he let himself in. "Where are my favorite girls?" he called out in a sing-song voice as he made his way through the house. "Aha! Found you!" he shouted when he popped his head into the doorway, sending Madison into a fit of giggles.
He gave her a side hug and a kiss on the top of her head, then walked around to your side of the island counter. "You, uh, got a little something right...there," he said as he swiped the dot of flour on your nose with his index finger.
"Oh yeah?" You grabbed his face with your flour-coated hands and pulled him in for a kiss. "You have something - there," you snickered as you gestured to his entire face. Madison's laughter continued to fill the air.
"And what are you laughing at, missy?" You turned to her. "Seems like you are the only one with no flour on them. I think we should fix that, Timmy."
Timothée grinned ear to ear. "Seems only fair." You each grabbed a handful of flour and playfully stalked toward her. It turned into a messy game of tag as you all chased each other around the kitchen island.
You skidded to a stop when you spotted your mother standing in the kitchen doorway. She stood with her hands on her hips, just shaking her head.
"Oh, uh, hey Mom."
"We'll get this cleaned up, Mrs. [Y/N]," Timothée added, ducking his head in embarrassment.
"Where's the fun in that?" She quick-stepped to the flour jar to grab a handful herself and dumped it on your head.
Madison gasped, "Nana!"
"What? She was the cleanest of all of you. Figured she needed to be brought down a peg or two." She looked at you and winked.
You narrowed your eyes playfully. "By that logic, you're next!" You and your mom stalked each other around the island until until you caught her in a big hug and patted flour all over her back. You both could barely breathe from laughing so hard. The two of you had gotten much closer since you moved back in, and after Timothée lost his dad, you were determined to make the most of the time you had left with your parents.
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After you got yourselves and the kitchen cleaned up, it was time for Madison to get ready for bed. She came prancing out of her room in her footie pajamas to give goodnight hugs to her grandparents. She stopped at Timothée.
"Will you be here in the morning?" she asked.
"Of course! There's no place I'd rather be."
The girl smiled. "Good." She hugged him and headed toward her room. You started to follow when she turned back. "Can Timothée come, too?"
You looked at him and shrugged. "If he wants to." You held out your hand to help him up from the couch, knowing he wouldn't turn her down. He was wrapped around her little finger.
The two of you followed Madison to her room and flanked each side of her bed. You tucked her in as Timothée sat on the edge of the bed. She held out her arms for one more hug from each of you, to which you gladly obliged.
"Now, you better go to sleep or Santa won't bring your presents," Timothée said cheekily.
"Silly. Santa's not real," she stated.
He faked a gasp and pulled a horrified face. "He's not?! Hmm, I guess that means I can have the cookies you left out for him."
Her hand shot out from under the covers. "NO! No. Please don't, just in case I'm wrong."
"Uh huh, that's what I thought," he said as he booped her nose. "Good night, kiddo." He leaned down for one more hug, then stepped out of the room. You kissed her forehead, turned off her lamp, and followed suit.
You spotted Timothée at the end of the hallway where apparently your mother had sneakily hung some mistletoe while the two of you were occupied. He pointed upward and smiled at you. "Join me under the mistletoe?" You sauntered up to him, not expecting him to spin and dip you before kissing you yearningly. "Our first Christmas together. Again."
"Merry Christmas, love," you replied as he stood you upright again and nuzzled his nose against yours.
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The next morning, Timothée sat next to you on the floor by the couch, coffee in hand, taking in the scene as Madison dove into her stocking and the first of her presents. He leaned over and whispered to you, "I never quite understood why my parents got so excited about Christmas morning, even more excited than me, until now. All that joy on her little face. It's addicting." You squeezed his hand and leaned your head on his shoulder.
After a bit, once everyone had opened at least one gift, Timothée brought out a package that he had been hiding behind the couch and set it in front of the girl. "Don't try to pick it up. It's heavy. This one...," he paused to clear his throat, "is from my dad." She looked at him, then you, puzzled. "He was going through some boxes in the shed a couple of months ago and came across something of mine from when I was a boy that he thought you might like to have. He...he asked me to set it aside for Christmas."
Madison gingerly opened the wrapping paper to find a round brown leather bag.
"Go on, unzip it," Timothée encouraged her. She slowly unzipped the bag to reveal a blue bowling ball. "You'll need to grow into it a little, but it's yours if you want it."
Madison's lip wobbled as she wiped her tears with her sleeve. "This...this is perfect." She launched herself into Timothée's lap for a hug. When she pulled away, her face lit up as she looked at you. "Mom, help me find my present for Timothée! Please!"
"That's okay, kiddo, it can wait until we get down to it."
"No, it can't. You'll see." You and she dug through the piles of presents until she spotted what she was looking for - a rectangular present haphazardly wrapped in shiny blue paper and three different colored bows on top.
"I wrapped it myself," she said proudly.
Timothée carefully slid his finger under an edge of the paper in an effort not to rip it. Once he opened one side, he gently slid the gift out. It was a picture of him and Madison together at the bowling alley in a frame that she decorated herself. On the back was a short, handwritten note:
Dear Timothée,
I'm glad we found you at the grocery store. Merry Christmas!
Love, Maddy
Timothée wiped his eyes with his sleeve. "I love it, and I love you, too, kiddo." He pulled her in for a hug and buried his nose in her hair. "So, so much."
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Chapter 13
FYI: I am expecting for Chapter 13 to be the last one.
Masterlist
Tag List: @croatianprincess, @bluizh, @jindongdongie, @groovyqueer
Still Here (Chapter 13)
Series Finale
Summary: The happy ending I promised you! Timothée proposes.
C/W: mention of deadbeat dad
Catch up on previous chapters here.
>>six weeks after Christmas<<
"So I got a call today." Timothée announced at dinner with you, Madison, and your parents. "One of my investors wants me to open a furniture store in Kentucky. I'm going to go check out a spot next week."
"Oh, that's wonderful, Timothée!" your mother cheered. Your dad shared similar (but calmer) sentiments. You, on the other hand, bounced up and down in your seat and then kissed him on the cheek.
"I'm so proud of you!" you said gleefully. Your excitement quickly stalled, though, when you looked over at Madison, who just stared down at her plate. She set down her utensils and pushed herself away from the table. Next thing you knew, you heard the front door slam shut. You looked at Timothée wide-eyed.
"What was that about?" he asked. You shrugged. Her reaction came out of left field. You both stood to go check on her. You expected to find her in her usual spot on the porch swing, but she was nowhere in sight. Your heart rate rose in slight panic as you looked out from the porch and saw nothing but darkness.
"Madison?!" you cupped your hands and yelled as you scanned the yard.
Timothée walked toward his truck and spotted the girl's blonde hair over the top of the seat. He caught your attention with a wave and pointed to the passenger side. You nodded in acknowledgment. Unsure what to do with yourself, you sat on the top porch step to stay close just in case you were needed.
Madison was sitting in the passenger seat with her arms crossed, staring out the front window. She cut her eyes at Timothée and glared as he climbed in on the driver's side.
"I had a feeling I'd find you here," he said softly.
"Go away. That's what you're good at," she snipped.
Timothée recoiled from her words as he reached for the door to shut it behind him. "What? I don't under-"
She turned to him and shouted, "You...you said you loved us! Now you're going away and I won't get to see you anymore," her eyes dropped, "just like I don't see my dad. He doesn't come to visit or ask me to come. He doesn't even call much anymore. You're going to forget me like he did. And hurt my mom."
Timothée's brows furrowed in confusion. "Madison, I'm not-"
"You JUST said you have to go to Kentucky!" she interrupted accusingly. Her breathing hitched and she started bawling. Timothée froze in shock, taking a couple of moments to realize Madison thought he was moving away.
"Oh- oh, kiddo, no no no." He draped his arm around her shoulder and pulled her to his chest. He rested his cheek on the top of her head. "I will have a new shop in Kentucky, but I will only have to go there every once in a while."
"Y- you're not leaving?" Madison asked, voice stilted by involuntary gasps. She pulled back to look at him.
Timothée shook his head. "I'm so sorry you thought that's what I meant. I'm not going anywhere, certainly not without you and your mother."
"Oh." She ducked her head in embarrassment.
He pulled her in for a big squeeze again. "I could never forget you, not in a million years. I can't answer why your father acts the way he does. Sounds like he still has some things he needs to work through. But I know it has absolutely nothing to do with you. You are a beautiful, amazing, kind human being who deserves all the love in the world. Same for your mother."
He felt her nod against his shoulder and reach up with her small hand to wipe her cheek.
"In fact," he paused and looked around. "Can I tell you a secret?" Madison looked up at him and nodded. "I have been wanting to ask your mother to marry me, but I wanted to see how you feel about it first."
She quickly pushed herself upright and placed both hands over her mouth in surprise. "Really?!"
"I know it may seem quick, but I have loved her for practically as long as I can remember. And you, missy," he said through his teeth as he poked her ticklish spot on her side, which induced the desired giggles. "I've had a soft spot for you ever since I met you."
After Madison's laughing died down, she sat silent for a few moments in thought. "Would that make you my dad?" she asked timidly as she looked up at him through her eyelashes.
"Well, you already have a father. And I'm not trying to step in and replace him. But," he paused to cup the back of her head with his large hand, "I already love you like you are my daughter. And that won't change even if your mother says no."
She nodded, brows scrunching before her face lit up with a smile. "I- I love you, too. You'd be like...like a bonus dad!" She leaned over to rest her head on his shoulder and sighed contentedly. The two stayed that way for a bit before Madison broke the silence again.
"She won't say no. When are you going to ask her?"
"I'm not sure, though I should probably do it soon so you don't have to keep it secret for long."
"I can handle it!" she exclaimed as she pushed herself away from him.
Timothée laughed and held his finger up to his mouth. "Shh! I'm sure you can. Got any ideas?"
Madison rested her thumb and index finger on her chin in contemplation. "Actually, I do."
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You steered the cart through the grocery store, frequently checking your list and grumbling to yourself about prices going up.
"Mom, I'm going to the cereal aisle," you heard Madison announce.
"Okay, I'll meet you over there in just a minute," you called back. You grabbed a couple more items from the baking aisle, then strolled around the corner to find her.
And find her you did, standing next to Timothée. He looked quite handsome in his nice button-down shirt, jeans, and boots. As always, his presence brought a smile to your face.
"Oh, hey! What are you do-" you started to question, but you were cut short when he dropped to one knee. You gasped and covered your mouth.
"The last time I was on this aisle with you," he started, "my heart skipped a beat. I thought I was dreaming. I thought there was no way, after all of these years, that I was seeing my [Y/N], the girl I thought I had lost for good because I wasn't brave enough to follow her when she asked. I know what life is like without you, and I never plan on letting you go again, if you'll have me."
He brought out a handcarved wooden box and opened it to reveal the most beautiful ring you had ever seen. You looked over at Madison, who was beaming up at you. She nodded at you to show her support. With a watery smile, you looked back at Timothée and squeaked out a "yes."
The three of you were oblivious to the crowd that had gathered around you. You startled when they began to cheer. Timothée launched himself up from his position on one knee and captured your face in his hands to kiss you. He then took your left hand in his and slid the ring onto your finger.
"I knew she'd say yes!" Madison cheered.
You pulled her to your side for a hug. "You were in on this?" you asked tearily.
"Yep!" She looked up at Timothée. "Told you I could keep a secret!"
"I didn't doubt you for a second, kiddo." He looked back at you and squeezed your hand. "Ready to tackle forever?"
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Masterlist
Tag list:
@croatianprincess
@bluizh
@jindongdongie
@groovyqueer
Still Here (+1)
Summary: Madison asks Timothée to escort her to the school's father-daughter dance. Total "girl dad" material.
A/N: There are scenes I had in mind for my Still Here series that just didn't quite fit cleanly into any of the chapters, so I decided to add some "deleted scenes" for my loyal fans. Catch up on the main storyline here.
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"Mom," Madison called out to you as she emptied her backpack in the mudroom. She produced a flyer for an upcoming school dance. A father-daughter dance.
"Do you think Timothée would take me?" she asked sheepishly. "It says stepparents or father figures are welcome," she added, pointing to the small text on the announcement.
You were simultaneously both overjoyed at how close Madison and Timothée had become and saddened that her biological father hadn't reached out to her in months. You knew without a doubt, though, that Timothée would be over the moon to escort her. He loved her as his own before the two of you were even married.
"I'm sure he would happy to. Do you want to ask him, or would you like me to?"
"I'll do it tonight when we go bowling." It was their Tuesday tradition.
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"Timothée, can I ask you a question?" Madison inquired as she tied her bowling shoes.
"Sure, kiddo. You can always ask me anything, anytime."
"So, there's this dance coming up. It's...it's a father-daughter dance." Timothée paused tying his own shoes to look up at her. "And I- I was wondering if...," - she bit her lip before continuing - "if you would go with me. Since, you know, you're like my bonus dad. You don't have to, of course, I jus-"
Timothée placed his hands on her shoulders and interrupted before she spiraled further. "I'd be honored to, Madison." He pulled her into a hug and kissed the top of her head, wiping a tear off his cheek before she could spot it.
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The night of the dance came. Timothée emerged from your bedroom in a black button-up shirt tucked into black pants. He looked just as polished as he did for your wedding, minus the suit jacket.
You whistled at him. "Hey, handsome."
"Do I look alright?" he asked as he fidgeted with his belt.
You chuckled. "You look very nice, Timmy. Why are you nervous?"
"This is my first official event as stepdad," he said softly as he absentmindedly played with the clear plastic box for Madison's wrist corsage, which he picked out himself. "I want to get it right."
You swooned at his sincerity. "Being present is more than enough." You laid your hand on his arm in ressurance. "Now, you wait here while I go help Maddy finish up." You knocked on her door and slipped inside.
Timothée looked up when he heard the door knob to Madison's room turn about half an hour later. She walked out slowly with you following close behind, giving you the perfect view of Timothée's face as he took in the sight.
Madison wore a long light pink dress. Her blonde hair was tied half up with a matching pink ribbon. The rest fell onto her shoulders in cascading ringlets. Her outfit was complete with white shoes with a tiny heel.
Timothée smiled. "Wow. You look beautiful, kiddo. Like a princess."
Madison blushed as he playfully bowed and took her hand to place the flower corsage on her wrist. You took tons of pictures and sent them on their way. He offered her his arm and led her outside. You watched out the window as he opened the door of the blue pickup and offered her a hand to get inside. You had no doubt that she would be treated like a princess for the rest of the night.
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Still Here (+2)
Summary: 100% tooth-rotting fluff. Madison sees fireflies for the first time when Timothée takes the two of you to the lake again.
A/N: There are scenes I had in mind for my Still Here series that just didn't quite fit cleanly into any of the chapters, so I decided to add some "deleted scenes." Catch up on the main storyline here.
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"What was that?" Madison squeaked, pointing toward the woods.
"What was what?" Timothée asked. He stood and looked around protectively, but didn't see anything different or out of sorts. The three of you had been at the lake for hours, and dusk was creeping up on you.
"There it is again! A little flash of light!" Madison shouted.
You saw Timothée's shoulders relax. "Those are fireflies," you replied.
"Fireflies?"
"Some people call them lightning bugs," Timothée added. "Let's see if we can catch one."
"Won't it burn you?" Madison asked, skeptical of his proposal.
Timothée chuckled. "No, kiddo. But they do taste nasty, so don't try to eat one!"
She twisted her mouth to make a sour face. "Have YOU eaten one?" she asked incredulously.
That earned a fully belly laugh from both of you. "No," he replied, "but I read that frogs will spit them right back out if they eat one. They produce a chemical that makes them taste bitter."
"Oh, there's one!" you shouted.
Timothée slowly stalked the tiny bug before suddenly reaching out and clasping his hands together. "I got it! Want to come see?" he asked Madison.
The girl was not a huge fan of bugs, but her curiosity outweighed her normal disgust. She walked over to Timothée, who was now crouched and sitting on his feet. He parted his thumbs to make a small hole.
"Look in here," he said. Not even a second later, the bug flashed, and Madison gasped in wonder.
"Can I catch one?" she turned to ask you.
"Have at it. Just make sure you cup your hands so you don't squish it," you replied. She ran after the next one she spotted. Timothée stood, let his firefly go, and walked to the boat to rummage through the storage bin under his seat. He came back with a glass jar and proceeded to poke holes in the lid with his pocket knife.
"Timothée, I got one! I got one!" Madison shrieked.
"Good job, kiddo! Bring it over here."
"It tickles!" she said through a laugh.
"Here, let's see if we can get it in the jar. You drop it in, and I'll close the lid real quick." The cycle continued until they had 4-5 fireflies contained. "Go show your mom."
"Look, Mom!" Madison ran over to show you the jar up close, with Timothée following shortly behind.
"These are so pretty," you said in awe. "It's been a long time since I've seen fireflies. Timothée and I used to come out to the lake and sit on the tailgate to watch them float around.
"Well, we did more than-"
You cleared your throat and darted your eyes at your daughter.
Timothée blushed. "I mean, we did that many times," he corrected himself. He winked and snuck a kiss when Madison turned away.
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15 of Angsty sentence starters for Timmy? Plz
#15: "Are you happy now?"
A/N: I don't think Timothée would actually behave like this, so I included a happier alternate ending.
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Late
"You're late. Again." You glared at Timothée from where you had collapsed on the couch from exhaustion.
"I told you I had a dinner scheduled after today's shoot," he retorted as he took off his shoes by the door.
"But you didn't tell me you'd be out until after midnight." You stood and paced in the living room.
"Lay off, [Y/N]," he growled.
"I recognize that you work all day. And that your career has an inherent social requirement. But I need you to recognize that taking care of YOUR newborn is more than a full-time job. That I don't get to punch a time clock and go home to reset. That we have no family in the area to tag in for help. That I am fucking exhausted!" You lost control of your volume at the end and accidentally woke the baby you had just gotten to sleep 30 minutes ago.
"Are you happy now?!" Timothée gestured toward the nursery. "You have one job, [Y/N]. I work my ass off to make sure you and our daughter want for nothing. Nothing!"
Your daughter's cries got sharper and louder, yet all you could do was slump against the couch and sob. You heard Timothée scoff, grab his keys, and walk back out the door. "I'm not going to listen to this all night."
The scream that wrenched its way from your gut was near animalistic. You folded yourself to the ground, resting your forehead on the floor and covering your ears with your arms. Once your tears were spent, you slowly picked yourself back up. Timothée was right about one thing - you have a job to do, and you'll be damned if your daughter was going to suffer just because she has an asshole father.
<><>Happier Alternate Ending<><>
Your daughter's cries got sharper and louder, yet all you could do was slump against the couch and sob. You heard Timothée's footsteps pad past you to the baby's room. "Shhh, baby girl. Daddy's got you." He shuffled back to the living room, bouncing your daughter in his arms.
"[Y/N], I- I'm sorry," he whispered and sat next to you. "I shouldn't have reacted like that. I've had a long day, but that's no excuse. This- this isn't like you. I know you must be at your wit's end. I'm sorry I let it get this far before seeing it. I'll call my mom to see if she can come stay with us for a few days. We're going to hire some help, at least part time to give you a break when I can't. In a couple of months, we'll be done shooting and I can stay home more, too."
All you could do was nod and sob some more. Timothée opened his free arm and gestured for you to come closer. He wrapped his arm around you as you crawled over and sank into his embrace.
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https://www.tumblr.com/queerbrujas/647102106485014528/send-me-a-number-and-ill-write-a-micro-story
Nap from this prompt list for Timothee
Micro Story Prompt
Nap
"Lunch is - boys?" You turned and looked around the kitchen but could not find Timothée or your 4-year-old son, Caleb. They were typically seated at the counter and anxiously waiting anytime they smelled food.
You made your way through the house, listening for signs of your boys. You followed the sound of the TV to the living room and wished you had your phone or camera with you.
Both were asleep, curly heads lolled to the side and mouths agape in nearly twin-like fashion. Like father, like son. Caleb was comfortably cuddled between Timothée's side and the arm rest of the recliner.
Your barely contained chuckle made Timothée stir. He blinked and looked up at you slightly confused.
"Enjoy your nap?" You flashed a big grin.
He looked down at Caleb, then back up at you. "I guess we played hard this morning."
"Well, I hope you played hard enough to work up an appetite because lunch is ready."
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Met my friends’s nephews so I got this idea.
Timothee and reader have a baby together and one day both Timothee and the baby are sick and reader is stressed out cuz she’s carrying for both of them all day and night.
Like Father, Like Daughter
Internal monologue in italics.
>> warning: lots of puke <<
A piercing wail amplified by the baby monitor next to my head wrenched me from a deep sleep. I sat up in bed, heart racing. What time is it? I looked around in the dark for the red numbers of the alarm clock. 3:43am. Ugh.
I turned on the monitor's video screen to see Aimée squirming, butt up in the air. Despite my best efforts to make her sleep on her back, she always flipped herself over in the night. Timothée laid next to me, still dead asleep - and also on his stomach. Like father, like daughter, I suppose. Part of me wanted to smack him in the head with a pillow. Misery loves company after all, but I refrained.
I grumbled when I heard more whining. At that point, I knew she wasn't going to fall back to sleep on her own this time. I'm coming, I'm coming. I rubbed my eyes as they adjusted to the light in the hallway. I was nearly knocked over by the putrid smell that hit me like a ton of bricks when I opened Aimée's bedroom door.
Upon seeing me, the little one pulled herself up using the crib rail for support and lifted her arms to beckon me, whimpering. From the ribbon of warm light that gently filled her room from the open door, I could see the source of the smell...
...and Aimée was covered in it.
Oh no.
I held my breath as I picked her up, trying desperately not to gag and add to the mess. She had vomited in the night and rolled in it in her attempts to get comfortable again. Her normally bouncy curls were matted to her head by orange gunk.
"Mamaaaaa....," Aimée groaned.
"I know, baby. We'll get you cleaned up."
I didn't even take two full steps toward the door before she puked down the front of my nightgown. I could feel it dripping onto my foot. Time to call in reinforcements.
I cradled the baby to my chest and padded back to our room. Using my clean foot, I jostled his side of the mattress.
"Timmy!" I whisper-yelled, trying to get his attention without scaring him or the baby. "Timmy!" I tried again, kicking a little harder.
"Huh?" He pushed himself up groggily.
"I need your help. Aimée is sick. Can you change out her sheets while I wash her - well, us - off?"
He responded with a groan and a nod, throwing off the blanket and tossing his feet over the side of the bed. I took Aimée to the bathroom next to her room so I would have her tearless shampoo available. We sat on the floor as we waited for the water to warm up. I carefully peeled off her onesie and my nightgown. I briefly considered just throwing them away rather than attempt to salvage them. When I tried to push her hair back out of her eyes, that's when I felt it. Fever.
I picked her up and gingerly stepped into the tub. I let the warm water flow over us both, hoping it would loosen up the now caked vomit in her hair. I knew she was feeling bad when she just laid there against my chest. Normally, giving her a bath sounded remarkably similar to an exorcism in a horror film.
Without warning, Timothée bolted into the bathroom, startling both of us. Aimée cried as he retched over the toilet.
"Overcome by the smell?" I asked before soothingly shhshing the girl and opening the shower curtain to see.
He spat out the string of saliva dripping from his mouth and looked over at me. I could tell by the unfocused glaze of his eyes and dark circles below that it was more than just sympathetic vomiting.
"Uh oh. Not you, too."
Timothée wordlessly flopped down and leaned against the sink cabinet as I bathed our daughter the best I could while holding onto her. He mustered up the energy to bring me towels and help me step out of the tub once done. He took the bundled baby into his arms so I could dry myself off and put on my robe. I took it as a chance to feel his forehead. He leaned into my touch.
"Dammit. Must be that stomach bug going around."
Ugh, why today of all days? I whined internally. I have an important meeting at 8:30 that I really can't postpone. Maybe if I...
My thoughts were interrupted by Timothée quickly handing Aimée back to me so he could puke once more.
No choice but to reschedule. He won't be able to care for the baby in this state.
I held Aimée on one hip and helped Timothée up from the floor with my other hand. "Time to get the two of you back to bed."
"I changed her sheets, but some vomit had spilled over to the crib rails and carpet. Her room smells awful," he said quietly, as the baby was nodding off on my shoulder. "I'm already sick, and you've already been exposed, so she may as well sleep in our bed. We can take care of her room in the morning."
I laughed internally at his use of "we." This was probably going to take at least 24 hours to run its course based on recent tales from friends and family. And historically, Timothée was a big baby when sick. This was the first time I had to care for them both at the same time.
Once he laid back down in bed, I followed suit and placed Aimée between us. They were both out like a light. I tried to sleep, but my wired brain kept running through my to-do list. I got up and made a makeshift bumper out of pillows to keep Aimée from rolling off the bed. Timothée was curled protectively around her on the opposite side. I would enjoy the cuteness more if I weren't so damned tired.
I set to work hosing off the bedding and clothes outside before putting them in the washing machine. I placed a delivery order for crackers, gingerale, and electrolyte drinks for both sickies. I wiped down the crib and all commonly touched surfaces and all but gassed the house with disinfectant spray. I got out my trusted enzyme cleaner and carpet spot cleaning machine to take care of the spillover. I was focused on that - and nearly done - when my normal morning alarm went off. I rushed to the bedroom to shut it off, praying that it didn't wake my patients.
They didn't budge. And I never went back to sleep. At this rate, I may as well stay up.
I finished the carpet, switched out the laundry, and anxiously started cleaning the kitchen. When the business day began at 8:00am, I started making phone calls to reschedule meetings for the day. Of course, Aimée waited until I was on the phone to start crying. With my phone to my ear, I started walking to the bedroom when I saw Timothée exit, carting the baby to her room to change her diaper. "Thank you," I mouthed. He nodded and half-smiled.
When I hung up a couple of minutes later, I peeked in to check on them. Timothée was humming as Aimée babbled back at him from the changing table.
"I know you're back there. I need to put WD-40 on those squeaky hinges," he joked. I crossed the room and put my chin on his shoulder to gaze down at our daughter.
"Did you ever go to sleep?" he asked, knowing the answer. I silently shook my head. "I figured that when I saw that her room was clean." He shot me a fake stern look.
"I was wired and couldn't settle," I said, trying but failing to stifle a yawn. "She seems to be feeling at least a little better. How about you?"
"I feel drained, but not awful. You should take advantage and go rest while you can. I heard you call into work." He picked the baby up and set her down on the floor to crawl and play.
I shook my head. "I need to wait for the grocery delivery and make you breakfast."
"Or, let me make breakfast while I actually have some energy, and you can handle lunch," he argued. "Go, sneak out while she's distracted."
I had to admit his proposal was appealing. "Promise to wake me if you need me?"
"I promise, love. Now go."
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You know how everyone thinks Timothee looked sick/tired during the Dune event last night? Maybe a fic where he’d actually not feeling well and has to miss it and he’s extremely bummed but reader wants to him to rest because he’s been working so hard for his next project Marty supreme and it’s taking a lot out of him. Physically and mentally.
Thx ☺️ love you 😘
🥰 I hope you don't mind a slight tweak where he did go to the event but came home wiped out and irritable.
Written from female reader perspective.
Most Meaningful Role
You could sense Timothée's foul mood before he even reached the front door after the Dune 2 Q&A. It was evident in the little things - the speed at which he pulled into the driveway, how hard he shut the car door, the muffled growl when he dropped his keys trying to get inside. If he was a cartoon, you would have seen a little dark storm cloud floating above his head.
IG credit: tchallamett
The aura of the room changed dramatically as he stepped across the threshold. He never even verbally responded to your greeting. Instead, he flopped down on the couch next to you and laid his head on your lap.
You softly gazed down at the boy turned friend turned love of your life, trying to exude calming vibes to counter his ire. You noticed the purple circles ghosting his eyes masked the beautiful constellations of freckles you adored. Out of habit, you extended your hand to play with his hair, but you hesitated ever so slightly due its new shortness before diving into the longer locks at the top.
Timothée noticed, rolled his eyes, and sighed heavily. "I know, I know, my fans don't like it either."
You gently tugged his hair to turn his face toward you. "They don't understand how much you sacrifice for your roles. How much you put your heart and soul - and health - into your craft. I- I'm worried about you."
He scoffed. "I'm fine."
"No, you're not. You are exhausted all the time. I don't even remember the last time you came home happy. The last time you had the energy to go out on a date or a walk in the park or..."
You were interrupted by a low, exasperated grumble. Timothée sat up quickly and walked away from you to the kitchen island, all but slumping as he leaned with all his weight on outstretched arms on the counter's ledge.
Fed up, you continued. "Remember. I was here, watching you starve yourself for Beautiful Boy. I was here as you went straight from Bones and All to Wonka to Dune 2 to ACU, and now Marty, watching as your poured your energy into your fans and work instead..." you paused, unsure whether you should continue down this path. "Instead of us. I can't believe they still have you doing press for Dune anyway. Isn't it a bit overplayed by now?"
You instantly cringed, knowing you had crossed a line as you saw his shoulders tense, which blunted your surprise as Timothée slammed his hands down onto the cold marble counter with enough force to rattle the silverware in the drawers below. He turned on his heel, insult clearly written on his face.
"Over-? Guess which movies paid for that brand new car of yours in the driveway, huh? Or this house?!" he snapped back heatedly.
"Timmy, I-"
He held up his palm to cut you off. "No! I had to listen to you rant. Now you get to listen. Acting is the ONLY thing I feel a little bit good at. Take that away, and I-" his voice faltered. "I have nothing," he finished quietly.
In the deafening silence that followed, you visibly deflated, shrinking into yourself and hugging your knees on the couch.
"That's - UGH!" Timothée groaned and scrubbed a hand down his face. As you stared down at the plush carpet, you saw him tentatively pad closer in your peripheral vision. He sank to his knees when he reached the couch, looking up to lock eyes with you.
"That is *not* what I meant, Peach," he stated in a much calmer tone. "Without acting, I- I have nothing to offer. To you. The world. This face," he said, pointing to his own, "won't last forever. I have to make the most of it while I still look young."
"You're going to age prematurely if you keep up your current pace," you quipped tersely, breaking his gaze by moving your head to rest your chin on your elbow. "It won't be the end of the world to be typecast into the settled and married dad role, especially if that is what you are."
Your heart was nearly beating out of your chest. This wasn't how you wanted to tell him, but your emotions got the best of you.
Timothée sat back slightly. "I'm not a..."
You could almost hear the gears turning in his head. You shifted to look at him once again, your eyes now bloodshot from holding back tears.
"Dad?" he breathed.
You nodded. "I took a test this morning. Wanted to tell you when you got home."
"Oh. Oh, Peach! That's- I- " Timothée stammered. "You- we- we're going to have a baby?" he repeated with bewildered excitement. He practically launched himself from the floor, throwing his arms around you and peppering your cheeks with kisses while you laughed. He pulled back and held your face in his large hands, gently wiping a stray tear from the corner of your mouth with his thumb.
It was heartwarming to see genuine happiness light up his face once again, even if just for a fleeting moment before his eyes fell to the ground. "This should have been a happy occasion, but you are probably going to look back at this moment and just remember me yelling at you. One of the most important moments of your life, OUR lives, and I stole the wind from your sails." Now it was his turn to cry as he rested his forehead on your knees.
You gave him a moment to wallow, using the time to carefully think through what you wanted to say. You carded your fingers through his chocolate locks. "Timmy, you will *have* to slow down and take care of yourself if you are going to play a meaningful role in your child's life and mine. Pun intended. Is- is that still a role you want?"
Timothée moved to rest his chin on your knee so he could look up at you with his red-rimmed puppy eyes. "More than anything."
He pushed himself up from the floor to sit beside you on the couch. "May I?" he asked nervously, gesturing his hand toward your stomach. The corners of your mouth pulled into a soft smile as you nodded, to which he replied with a huge grin. *This* was how you had pictured this moment.
Timothée gingerly placed his hand on your belly and laid his head on your shoulder, idly rubbing semicircles with his thumb. He exhaled a contented sigh while you resumed watching the sitcom his arrival interrupted. Within just a few minutes, his idle movements ceased, and soft snoring began. Amused, you rested your cheek against the soft pillow of curls atop his head.
"Rest while you can, love," you whispered as you laid your hand on top of Timothée's on your stomach and let out a contented sigh of your own.
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An extra scnce idea for still here
Timothee gets sick and cancels their usual date night or night out with Madison and Y/N and Madison go to his house to find out why and then they take care of him 🥺
I have tried for months to draft this true to what was requested, but I was facing a mental block until I switched it to Madison being ill - then it just took off from there. Hope you still enjoy all the same.
Still Here (+3)
Summary: Timothée goes into dad mode when Madison is sick. Takes place after his dad has passed, so he doesn't have to worry about taking germs home. Post-engagement.
A/N: There are scenes I had in mind for my Still Here series that just didn't quite fit cleanly into any of the chapters, so I decided to add some "deleted scenes" for my loyal fans. Catch up on the main storyline here.
The sound of the phone vibrating against the wooden top of your computer desk interrupted your train of thought as you knocked out a grant application for the library. You looked down to see the dreaded words "School Nurse" displayed on the illuminated screen.
"Hello?" you answered tentatively, already standing to grab your keys and purse. These calls were never good, especially midday.
"Hi, is this Madison's mom?"
"Yes, it is."
"This is Bethany, the school nurse. Madison came to my office because she isn't feeling well. She has a cough, stuffy nose, and a headache. She's also running a fever. Are you able to come pick her up?"
"Poor girl. I'm leaving work now. I should be there in about 15 minutes."
After ending the call and giving the library director a heads up, you called Timothée while on your quick jaunt to the car.
"Hey, baby. What's up?" You rarely called to just say hello in the middle of the work day, so of course, he immediately asked what was going on.
"Hey, just got a call from the school nurse. Maddy is sick, so I am heading to the school to pick her up." You got into the car and shut the door behind you.
"Is she okay?" His voice surrounded you, concern evident, as the audio transferred to the car speakers.
"Sounds like standard viral stuff for this time of year. She should be fine with some medicine and rest. But she won't be able to go out with you tonight. Poor thing. She's going to be so disappointed to miss Timothée Tuesday." Despite the stress, a fond smile graced your lips at the name Maddy had lovingly coined for their regular "date" nights.
"Aww. Well, maybe I can still bring her a treat, if that's okay with you."
"That's so sweet, but you'll run the risk of getting sick, too."
"No more than you. It takes a village, remember? Let your village step in and help. Especially while your parents are out of town," Timothée chided.
"Yes, I know. You are right," you replied with feigned attitude. "Hey, I just pulled up to the school, so I need to let you go. Let me know when you are heading over."
You barely parked the car before jumping out and running to the main door, pressing the buzzer and shifting your weight impatiently from one foot to another as you waited to be let inside. When you walked in, you spotted Madison slumped in an armchair through the rectangular window of the nurse's door. The girl livened up a little when she looked up at the sound of your voice.
You held out your arms to her invitingly once you signed her out, gingerly feeling her forehead with your cheek as you embraced her. The nurse informed you that she needed to be fever-free for at least 24 hours before returning. You draped your arm around Maddy's shoulders as you both turned to walk out the door. "Welp, looks like you and I get to play hooky tomorrow," you teased in an attempt to lighten the mood. Madison just wordlessly nodded.
Once you arrived at your parents' house, she voluntarily went straight to bed after downing medicine and a glass of water. Your phone buzzed in your pocket shortly after with a text notification:
"Leaving Hartley now. Need me to pick up anything? How is she?"
"She went straight to bed, if that tells you anything. Can you pick up some liquid child cold medicine? I gave her the last dose of daytime medicine I have on hand."
"On it. I'll be there as quickly as I can."
"No rush. She can't have another dose for at least 4 hours anyway. Thanks, love."
About 30 minutes later, Timothée sent you a picture.
"Is this the right stuff? I didn't know there were so many options."
"Right stuff, but do they have any other flavor?"
"I thought she likes grapes?"
"She does, just not grape medicine."
"Ah, ok. Bubblegum or berry?"
"Bubblegum."
"Got it. Need anything else?"
"Nope, I think I have everything else."
"K. I should be there in about 20 minutes."
You replied with a heart emoji and got to work on washing the dishes and picking up around the house as an outlet for your nervous energy. Timothée let himself in and set down the bags on the kitchen island. You rewarded him with a sweet peck on the cheek. "Thank you for your help."
He smiled softly then started unloading the bags. "Here's the medicine, and I also got your favorite candy bar because I figured you would be a little stressed."
"You know me so well." You kissed him on the cheek again, never tiring of the slight dust of pink blush that always appeared without fail. "What's in the brown bag?"
"Oh, I called ahead to the diner and they made a fresh batch of Maddy's favorite ooey gooey rice krispie treats just for her. Timed it just right so they were ready after I stopped at the pharmacy across the street. Mandy said to give you her best and that she hopes Maddy feels better soon."
I can't believe this guy is mine, you thought to yourself. "You are so good to her. To us," you praised.
He shrugged and blushed once more. "I love you both. Of course I'm going to take care of my girls. She still asleep?"
You were about to respond when out of the corner of your eye you spotted Madison slowly shuffle into the kitchen, mechanically grabbing for a glass for water. Timothée turned when you nodded toward her direction.
"Hey, kiddo. How are you feeling?"
She grumbled incoherently and held her arms out to him like a walking zombie, resting her face against his torso when she reached him. One more growth spurt and she'd likely be up to his shoulders soon.
Timothée wrapped his arms around her to complete the hug. "I swung by the diner and picked up rice krispie treats. Figured I'd bring date night to you."
You heard a muffled "thank you" as she spoke into his shirt. She looked over at the bag. "I- I think I'll have one later." He clasped the back of her head gently with his large hand and looked up at you in shock. He had never seen her like this before, unwell to the point of refusing her favorite snack.
Tilting her head back to look up at Timothée, she whined, "I'm sorry that we can't go out."
He responded with a gentle boop to her nose. "Hey, none of that. I had a long day, too, so chilling on the couch to watch a movie sounds amazing. What do you say?"
"Can we watch Spider-man?" she asked with a weak smile, perking up at the idea.
"Sure! I mean, uh, if it's okay with your mom. It is PG-13." They both looked over to you with puppy eyes. You weren't as big of a fan of comic-based movies as they were.
"Oh, alright. Why don't y'all go get it started while I get supper going?"
As they walked off, you heard him question, "Alright, so which universe should we start with? Tom Holland, Tobey Mag-" until their voices faded into living room.
You set to work retrieving all the necessary ingredients for the casserole you had planned for tomorrow since you expected them to be out that evening. Once it was in the oven, you strolled into the living room to check on them. Maddy had fallen asleep again, this time with her head on Timothée's shoulder.
"She sat still too long," he whispered after pausing the movie. "She didn't even make it past the opening scene."
You pouted your lip slightly as you took in just how comfortable Madison looked with her self-proclaimed "bonus dad." Her bio dad was never this good or patient with her when she wasn't feeling well. But you knew Timothée would sit in that position all night if that is what she needed. You stepped toward them to help him from his confines, but he waved you off.
"Let her sleep until dinner is ready. I'm fine." A shit-eating grin then flashed across his face. "You know, you could join me and watch your favorite neighborhood Spider-man."
"Which one did y'all settle on?"
"Tobey. I figured we should start at the beginning."
"At the peak, you mean?" you replied with a smirk.
"Wha- oh, so you DO like Spider-man; you're just a purist," he countered.
"I'm just saying I've never had a crush on Andrew or Tom like I did on Tobey."
His jaw dropped. "That movie came out while we were in high school. How did I not know about this?"
"A woman has a right to her secrets. Besides, I wasn't going to ogle my celebrity crush in front of my boyfriend!" you teased.
"Your fiancé now." He smiled cheesily.
You leaned down for a quick kiss and nuzzle to the nose. "Yes, my now fiancé. Ah, saved by the bell!"
At the behest of the oven timer, you quickly returned to the kitchen. You set the table and dished out the first serving. Timothée nudged Madison awake and walked behind as she shuffled to the table.
She slumped lethargically into her chair and slowly began to eat - more like poking her food around versus actual eating. When you gave her a pointed look, she responded, "I'm just not hungry. I can't taste it."
Pity washed over your face and Timothée's. "Alright, take three more bites so you have at least some nourishment. You'll need energy to get better. I can give you more medicine in about an hour, then you can go to bed."
After dinner, Timothée and Madison continued the movie while you cleaned up the dishes. You could tell the earlier dose of medicine was wearing off. She shifted frequently, trying to get comfortable, and let out the occasional whimper as the fever returned.
You dosed Madison with nighttime cold medicine about 30 minutes before the end of the movie, but she fell asleep again with 10 minutes left. Timothée chuckled and deftly picked the girl up from the couch and carried her to her bed.
"Do you want me to stay tonight?" he whispered to you as he shut the door and stepped back into the hallway.
"But you have to...," you started to respond, but the look of disapproval on his face shut you up.
"You know I own my own business, so if you are going to say, 'But you have to work tomorrow,' that's not a good reason. So I'll ask again. Do you want me to stay tonight? Yes or no."
"Yes," you replied with a cheeky grin. He leaned down and kissed your forehead, but pulled back with his face scrunched with concern.
"Are *you* feeling alright?"
"Me? I- I feel a little run down and a bit stressed, but otherwise, I'm okay. Why?"
Timothée looked at you skeptically. "You just feel a little warm to the touch. Come on, let's get you to bed, too."
You changed into pajamas and got settled in bed. Timothée followed suit after turning off the lights. Nestled into comfort of his arms, you quickly succumbed to your exhaustion.
Hours later, you were ripped awake by a gnarly cough that wasn't from you. Heart racing, you sat up to see Timothée sitting on the edge of the bed, softly illuminated by the lamp on the nightstand. Next to him stood your daughter, blonde hair pasted to her forehead with sweat.
"Is it alright if I give her more medicine?" he asked. You nodded after confirming enough time had passed, and Timothée stood to lead Madison to the kitchen.
"I can do it," you muttered sleepily, grasping at the blanket to toss it to the side.
"I've got it. And I'm going to grab you some medicine and a thermometer, too, once she's settled. You're like a furnace."
Too tired to argue, you snuggled back down under the covers. You knew Madison was in good hands and fell back to sleep before he returned. When you next woke again, you spotted a glass of water and some cold medicine tablets on your nightstand. Timothée sat next to you, resting against the headboard while reading a book from your shelf.
"Since you have that forehead thermometer, I took your temp while you were asleep. You are officially sick, too."
You groaned. "Fantastic," you retorted sarcastically. "Is Maddy still asleep?"
"I haven't heard her stir yet. Once she's up, I'll make y'all some breakfast."
You smiled. "Thank you for staying to help."
"In sickness and in health, right?"
You chuckled. "We aren't married yet, silly."
"Just a formality, babe."
<><><><><>
Masterlist
Tag list: @croatianprincess @bluizh @jindongdongie @groovy-lady @pmak2002
As a single mom, this one really resonated with me. I projected my own desires of a potential partner while writing - someone who helps pick up some of the mental load without being asked. It's hella sexy, tbh. Lately, I could have really benefitted from having someone like this Timothée variant to "tag in" and not go it alone.
Solidarity to all the single parents out there 🫡
An extra scnce idea for still here
Timothee gets sick and cancels their usual date night or night out with Madison and Y/N and Madison go to his house to find out why and then they take care of him 🥺
I have tried for months to draft this true to what was requested, but I was facing a mental block until I switched it to Madison being ill - then it just took off from there. Hope you still enjoy all the same.
Still Here (+3)
Summary: Timothée goes into dad mode when Madison is sick. Takes place after his dad has passed, so he doesn't have to worry about taking germs home. Post-engagement.
A/N: There are scenes I had in mind for my Still Here series that just didn't quite fit cleanly into any of the chapters, so I decided to add some "deleted scenes" for my loyal fans. Catch up on the main storyline here.
The sound of the phone vibrating against the wooden top of your computer desk interrupted your train of thought as you knocked out a grant application for the library. You looked down to see the dreaded words "School Nurse" displayed on the illuminated screen.
"Hello?" you answered tentatively, already standing to grab your keys and purse. These calls were never good, especially midday.
"Hi, is this Madison's mom?"
"Yes, it is."
"This is Bethany, the school nurse. Madison came to my office because she isn't feeling well. She has a cough, stuffy nose, and a headache. She's also running a fever. Are you able to come pick her up?"
"Poor girl. I'm leaving work now. I should be there in about 15 minutes."
After ending the call and giving the library director a heads up, you called Timothée while on your quick jaunt to the car.
"Hey, baby. What's up?" You rarely called to just say hello in the middle of the work day, so of course, he immediately asked what was going on.
"Hey, just got a call from the school nurse. Maddy is sick, so I am heading to the school to pick her up." You got into the car and shut the door behind you.
"Is she okay?" His voice surrounded you, concern evident, as the audio transferred to the car speakers.
"Sounds like standard viral stuff for this time of year. She should be fine with some medicine and rest. But she won't be able to go out with you tonight. Poor thing. She's going to be so disappointed to miss Timothée Tuesday." Despite the stress, a fond smile graced your lips at the name Maddy had lovingly coined for their regular "date" nights.
"Aww. Well, maybe I can still bring her a treat, if that's okay with you."
"That's so sweet, but you'll run the risk of getting sick, too."
"No more than you. It takes a village, remember? Let your village step in and help. Especially while your parents are out of town," Timothée chided.
"Yes, I know. You are right," you replied with feigned attitude. "Hey, I just pulled up to the school, so I need to let you go. Let me know when you are heading over."
You barely parked the car before jumping out and running to the main door, pressing the buzzer and shifting your weight impatiently from one foot to another as you waited to be let inside. When you walked in, you spotted Madison slumped in an armchair through the rectangular window of the nurse's door. The girl livened up a little when she looked up at the sound of your voice.
You held out your arms to her invitingly once you signed her out, gingerly feeling her forehead with your cheek as you embraced her. The nurse informed you that she needed to be fever-free for at least 24 hours before returning. You draped your arm around Maddy's shoulders as you both turned to walk out the door. "Welp, looks like you and I get to play hooky tomorrow," you teased in an attempt to lighten the mood. Madison just wordlessly nodded.
Once you arrived at your parents' house, she voluntarily went straight to bed after downing medicine and a glass of water. Your phone buzzed in your pocket shortly after with a text notification:
"Leaving Hartley now. Need me to pick up anything? How is she?"
"She went straight to bed, if that tells you anything. Can you pick up some liquid child cold medicine? I gave her the last dose of daytime medicine I have on hand."
"On it. I'll be there as quickly as I can."
"No rush. She can't have another dose for at least 4 hours anyway. Thanks, love."
About 30 minutes later, Timothée sent you a picture.
"Is this the right stuff? I didn't know there were so many options."
"Right stuff, but do they have any other flavor?"
"I thought she likes grapes?"
"She does, just not grape medicine."
"Ah, ok. Bubblegum or berry?"
"Bubblegum."
"Got it. Need anything else?"
"Nope, I think I have everything else."
"K. I should be there in about 20 minutes."
You replied with a heart emoji and got to work on washing the dishes and picking up around the house as an outlet for your nervous energy. Timothée let himself in and set down the bags on the kitchen island. You rewarded him with a sweet peck on the cheek. "Thank you for your help."
He smiled softly then started unloading the bags. "Here's the medicine, and I also got your favorite candy bar because I figured you would be a little stressed."
"You know me so well." You kissed him on the cheek again, never tiring of the slight dust of pink blush that always appeared without fail. "What's in the brown bag?"
"Oh, I called ahead to the diner and they made a fresh batch of Maddy's favorite ooey gooey rice krispie treats just for her. Timed it just right so they were ready after I stopped at the pharmacy across the street. Mandy said to give you her best and that she hopes Maddy feels better soon."
I can't believe this guy is mine, you thought to yourself. "You are so good to her. To us," you praised.
He shrugged and blushed once more. "I love you both. Of course I'm going to take care of my girls. She still asleep?"
You were about to respond when out of the corner of your eye you spotted Madison slowly shuffle into the kitchen, mechanically grabbing for a glass for water. Timothée turned when you nodded toward her direction.
"Hey, kiddo. How are you feeling?"
She grumbled incoherently and held her arms out to him like a walking zombie, resting her face against his torso when she reached him. One more growth spurt and she'd likely be up to his shoulders soon.
Timothée wrapped his arms around her to complete the hug. "I swung by the diner and picked up rice krispie treats. Figured I'd bring date night to you."
You heard a muffled "thank you" as she spoke into his shirt. She looked over at the bag. "I- I think I'll have one later." He clasped the back of her head gently with his large hand and looked up at you in shock. He had never seen her like this before, unwell to the point of refusing her favorite snack.
Tilting her head back to look up at Timothée, she whined, "I'm sorry that we can't go out."
He responded with a gentle boop to her nose. "Hey, none of that. I had a long day, too, so chilling on the couch to watch a movie sounds amazing. What do you say?"
"Can we watch Spider-man?" she asked with a weak smile, perking up at the idea.
"Sure! I mean, uh, if it's okay with your mom. It is PG-13." They both looked over to you with puppy eyes. You weren't as big of a fan of comic-based movies as they were.
"Oh, alright. Why don't y'all go get it started while I get supper going?"
As they walked off, you heard him question, "Alright, so which universe should we start with? Tom Holland, Tobey Mag-" until their voices faded into living room.
You set to work retrieving all the necessary ingredients for the casserole you had planned for tomorrow since you expected them to be out that evening. Once it was in the oven, you strolled into the living room to check on them. Maddy had fallen asleep again, this time with her head on Timothée's shoulder.
"She sat still too long," he whispered after pausing the movie. "She didn't even make it past the opening scene."
You pouted your lip slightly as you took in just how comfortable Madison looked with her self-proclaimed "bonus dad." Her bio dad was never this good or patient with her when she wasn't feeling well. But you knew Timothée would sit in that position all night if that is what she needed. You stepped toward them to help him from his confines, but he waved you off.
"Let her sleep until dinner is ready. I'm fine." A shit-eating grin then flashed across his face. "You know, you could join me and watch your favorite neighborhood Spider-man."
"Which one did y'all settle on?"
"Tobey. I figured we should start at the beginning."
"At the peak, you mean?" you replied with a smirk.
"Wha- oh, so you DO like Spider-man; you're just a purist," he countered.
"I'm just saying I've never had a crush on Andrew or Tom like I did on Tobey."
His jaw dropped. "That movie came out while we were in high school. How did I not know about this?"
"A woman has a right to her secrets. Besides, I wasn't going to ogle my celebrity crush in front of my boyfriend!" you teased.
"Your fiancé now." He smiled cheesily.
You leaned down for a quick kiss and nuzzle to the nose. "Yes, my now fiancé. Ah, saved by the bell!"
At the behest of the oven timer, you quickly returned to the kitchen. You set the table and dished out the first serving. Timothée nudged Madison awake and walked behind as she shuffled to the table.
She slumped lethargically into her chair and slowly began to eat - more like poking her food around versus actual eating. When you gave her a pointed look, she responded, "I'm just not hungry. I can't taste it."
Pity washed over your face and Timothée's. "Alright, take three more bites so you have at least some nourishment. You'll need energy to get better. I can give you more medicine in about an hour, then you can go to bed."
After dinner, Timothée and Madison continued the movie while you cleaned up the dishes. You could tell the earlier dose of medicine was wearing off. She shifted frequently, trying to get comfortable, and let out the occasional whimper as the fever returned.
You dosed Madison with nighttime cold medicine about 30 minutes before the end of the movie, but she fell asleep again with 10 minutes left. Timothée chuckled and deftly picked the girl up from the couch and carried her to her bed.
"Do you want me to stay tonight?" he whispered to you as he shut the door and stepped back into the hallway.
"But you have to...," you started to respond, but the look of disapproval on his face shut you up.
"You know I own my own business, so if you are going to say, 'But you have to work tomorrow,' that's not a good reason. So I'll ask again. Do you want me to stay tonight? Yes or no."
"Yes," you replied with a cheeky grin. He leaned down and kissed your forehead, but pulled back with his face scrunched with concern.
"Are *you* feeling alright?"
"Me? I- I feel a little run down and a bit stressed, but otherwise, I'm okay. Why?"
Timothée looked at you skeptically. "You just feel a little warm to the touch. Come on, let's get you to bed, too."
You changed into pajamas and got settled in bed. Timothée followed suit after turning off the lights. Nestled into comfort of his arms, you quickly succumbed to your exhaustion.
Hours later, you were ripped awake by a gnarly cough that wasn't from you. Heart racing, you sat up to see Timothée sitting on the edge of the bed, softly illuminated by the lamp on the nightstand. Next to him stood your daughter, blonde hair pasted to her forehead with sweat.
"Is it alright if I give her more medicine?" he asked. You nodded after confirming enough time had passed, and Timothée stood to lead Madison to the kitchen.
"I can do it," you muttered sleepily, grasping at the blanket to toss it to the side.
"I've got it. And I'm going to grab you some medicine and a thermometer, too, once she's settled. You're like a furnace."
Too tired to argue, you snuggled back down under the covers. You knew Madison was in good hands and fell back to sleep before he returned. When you next woke again, you spotted a glass of water and some cold medicine tablets on your nightstand. Timothée sat next to you, resting against the headboard while reading a book from your shelf.
"Since you have that forehead thermometer, I took your temp while you were asleep. You are officially sick, too."
You groaned. "Fantastic," you retorted sarcastically. "Is Maddy still asleep?"
"I haven't heard her stir yet. Once she's up, I'll make y'all some breakfast."
You smiled. "Thank you for staying to help."
"In sickness and in health, right?"
You chuckled. "We aren't married yet, silly."
"Just a formality, babe."
<><><><><>
Masterlist
Tag list: @croatianprincess @bluizh @jindongdongie @groovyqueer @pmak2002