Timothe X You - Tumblr Posts

ya know the more i look at timothee chalamet the more i’m like, “why is his head shaped like that?”

heyyy, just askin for a friend... can u make hc for timothée chalamet about moving in with him?

hi babeee<3 hope your day's been amazing! :3

𝗺𝗼𝘃𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗶𝗻 𝗵𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗰𝗮𝗻𝗼𝗻𝘀

— 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘰𝘵𝘩é𝘦 𝘤 .ᐟ

★ after you two had been dating for about two years, timothée suggested you moving into his house!

꩜ he did so while still being very subtle and willing to accept you saying no

★ of course you had said yes, you loved him more than anything and would love to be living in the same space as him!!

꩜ most definitely helped you unpack all of your things before you could tell him not to

★ SPOILED you with housewarming gifts n took you on shopping sprees to buy decor for the bedroom

꩜ if you were consistent on social media, you posted daily instagram stories on how the move-in process was going, obviously receiving tons of attention from your fans

★ he always made sure that you were comfortable living in the home with him, doing anything he needed to in order to make sure you were living your royalty life<3333

꩜ i could see him being a dog person n give your puppy the absolute world, but if you were a kitty parent, he would be happy to provide the best home for his baby!!

★ always left you little sticky notes when you woke up late n he was out. just small messages letting you know he was out doing something..

— you woke up and checked the time; a little past 10:30am. as you slowly arose from the blankets and sheets sprawled across the bed, morning light poured into the room outside. as you walked slowly down the stairs, a small, yellow slip of paper caught your eye from across the room on the kitchen island. you traced your steps to the counter, eyes scanning the words written in your boyfriend's handwriting, 'at the filming site, be home by 3' followed by a hand written heart.

꩜ threw some house parties with you (and clean up most of it afterwards, gentleman duties)

★ movie nights 24/7!!

꩜ trying different recipes to cook together, having fun regardless of whether or not the dish turns out delicious or burnt to a crisp</3

— the smell of a variety of spices filled the kitchen as you scrambled to the stove, laughing. "oh my gosh, timothée!" you yelled, inspecting the overcooked meat on the pan, stepping on spilled ingredients on your way over. "this isn't edible, babe," you looked back at him, who was watching with a hand on his hip. "looks just fine to me," he commented, eliciting a laugh from the both of you.

★ no matter what happens in the house, he's always and forever happy that you can be with him!!

ʚ © this subject is copyright to liseytopia. : do not copy, translate, or steal my writing. ɞ

masterlist

Something about protective Paul just does it for me 🫠

A Tiny Miracle

Author's Note: Went to see Dune part 2 last night and my brain hasn't shut off since. 🫠 This is just a tiny little Paul x Wife!Reader blurb set during the final fight scene.

"My lord."

Paul's eyes narrow after he hears Gurney try to get his attention. Shaddam seems to squirm, albeit reluctantly, under his narrowed gaze.

He glances over his shoulder to find Gurney holding a protective arm around you.

And the tiny little bundle in your own arms.

"Paul," You breathe, the sheen of sweat from your labors having already cooled on your skin, the blood still staining the lower half of your dress. "We have a daughter."

Paul is in front of you in an instant, cupping your face and hovering his other hand under your own that cradles the baby's head.

"You should be resting," He murmurs as he touches his forehead to yours. "You're exhausted."

"I'll let you do it next time, then." You tease as you close your eyes, content as he manages to peek down at her without relinquishing his touch on you. You had missed his presence during the birth but he had been occupied with the arrangements of this gathering. Your tired eyes look over his shoulder to see his Harkonnen cousin staring at you in particular and seemingly fascinated by your exchange with Paul.

"Her name?" Your husband asks fondly without looking away, his gloved fingers caressing her head of hair.

"I—" You shake your head, embarrassed, especially with everyone's attention directed at the three of you. "I haven't decided yet."

"That's okay," He assures, lips upturning as he presses his nose in your hair. He already knows what her name will be. "We have time."

You nod and someone directs you to sit down next to Jessica to rest. You've had your differences, it's true, but she seems to put those feelings aside when she smiles softly at you and the baby before surveying the scene before her.

Feyd-Rautha steps forward to begin the duel, pointing his blade towards Paul.

"I'm glad you got to see your child, Atreides. It will be your only chance."

Paul positions himself in a fighting stance, the black-toothed sneer Feyd directs at you sending a shiver down your spine, making you clutch your daughter closer to your breast. You wonder if it was wise for the Fremen to lead you here, to put the wife Muad'Dib front and center in front of the enemy.

He rakes his dark eyes over your blood stained dress, almost approvingly.

"Maybe I'll take your bride as a war prize when I win. I do love seeing a woman covered in blood."

Something dark passes over Paul's face at the threat. He can deal with threats to his own person, but you? He feels his own blood boil as the possibilities of this duel flash through his mind. A path, one that floods certainty through his veins, becomes as clear to him as the sands of Arrakis.

"May thy knife chip and shatter."

Still Here (Chapter 5)

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

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

Catch up on previous chapters here.

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

Thought you might like to have this.

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

"Did you have fun?" your mother asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You smirked.

Bless her heart.

That's not a bad thing.

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

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

She does come by it honest.

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

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

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

Stay tuned.

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

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

Sounds like a plan. Will you be joining us?

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

You snorted at his sarcasm.

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

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

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

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

<><><><><>

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

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

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

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

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

"Ohhh."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yes, Mom."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yes, ma'am."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

<><><><><>

Chapter 6

Masterlist

<><><><><>

Tag List:

@croatianprincess

@bluizh

Still Here (Chapter 6)

Summary: Dinner with Timothée reveals feelings.

"There is something I want to show you."

It was Friday, so your curiosity over his words could finally be sated. Timothée was due to pick you up about 6 o'clock so the two of you could go out for dinner in the closest city of any appreciable size, Hartley. Unsure of where exactly where you were going, you opted for a cute blouse, jeans, and cowboy boots.

Madison was cozy on the couch with her grandparents with a bowl of popcorn in her lap when you walked out of your room. She had convinced them to watch the new Wonka movie with her while you were away. You hugged them all and kissed Madison on the head.

"Be good, do as you're told, and remember to brush your teeth."

She rolled her eyes. "Okay, Mom."

"Love you!" you called back to her as you grabbed your things and walked to the door. Right as you looked out the window, you saw Timothée's blue truck pull up. You locked the door and skipped down the steps. It felt like you were in high school all over again. You were all smiles as you walked quickly to the passenger side.

"Hi!" you said cheerily as you climbed in.

Timothée looked up and down at your outfit. "Howdy," he replied through a grin.

"Hey now, I can get right back out of this truck if you're going to make fun of me," you sassed.

He held up his hands to feign surrender. "No, no. It's a good look! I swear!"

You playfully popped him on the arm. "So where are we going?"

He put the truck in gear and moved along. "There is an Italian restaurant I love to visit when I'm in town. Thought we could go there."

"And?"

"And what?" He clamped down his lips to prevent himself from smiling.

"There was something you wanted to show me. Surely it wasn't an Italian restaurant."

"Oh yeah, that. Yes, definitely that, too," he said with an exaggerated nod.

"What is it?!"

"You'll have to wait about..." He looked over at the truck's clock. "30 minutes to find out. We'll stop there before dinner so you can actually enjoy the food instead of wonder."

Timothée drove through Hartley's downtown square, pulled up in front of a closed shop, and turned off the truck. "We're here!" he said excitedly.

You looked around. "Ooo...kay. Where is 'here'?"

"Well, come on, get out of the truck."

"But Timothée, everything on this street is already closed for the night."

He held up a key. "Yep!"

He walked to a storefront and opened it up. You followed him through the door. "Wait here," he instructed. He walked to the back and flipped on the lights. You found yourself surrounded by the most beautiful wooden furniture you had ever laid eyes on.

"Welcome to my store."

"Yours. This is yours?" You spun around to take it all in.

"Yes. I made all of this."

"You what? Oh, wow. Mr. McDowell from wood shop would be so proud."

Timothée chuckled. "He was, actually. Bought a chair for his deck before he passed. Your mother bought a piece, too."

"She did?" You went through a mental list of all the furniture in the house as you walked through the showroom. "The porch swing?"

"Yep."

"I love that swing. Even more so now." You fingers gingerly grazed the handcrafted dining table next to you. "It's beautiful."

"Yes," Timothée said, not looking at the table, but at you. He cleared his throat when you turned and made eye contact. "Thank you."

"Where did you learn how to do this? Let me guess, another hobby you took up after you came back from Texas?" you inquired.

He shrugged. "Something like that. I needed to keep my hands busy. I turned the barn on my parents' land into my shop, and I sell out here. More traffic."

"What took you to Texas, anyway?"

Timothée's stomach growled. "Maybe we should discuss over dinner."

You stifled a giggle. "Fair enough. But don't think you are getting out of talking about yourself that easily."

The two of you loaded back up in the truck and drove a couple of blocks away to the Italian restaurant Timothée raved about. After you were seated on the patio and placed your orders, you set your chin in your hand and stared at him.

"Now spill." You grinned and waggled your eyebrows.

Timothée smiled. "Where should I start?"

"Well, the last I time I saw you before running into you at the grocery store was graduation. How about there?"

"As you know, I still hadn't figured out what I wanted to do. I hadn't made any plans for college, so I continued working at the hardware store for a while. That got boring. Sure as hell didn't want to do that for the rest of my life. So I started taking some auto mechanic classes at the vocational school here in Hartley."

"Is that where you learned to fix up the truck?"

"Yep. But that didn't seem like the right path, either. I felt...lost. Like I said the other day, once I got over the hurt of you leaving, I began to understand that you had the right idea all along. I even seriously considered giving you a call to see if your invitation still stood, but by the time I worked up the nerve, I learned from your mother that you were getting married. I didn't want to mess that up for you."

He paused when the server came by with the food. You both thanked her and took up your utensils. You couldn't believe what you had just heard. He considered coming all the way out to California. For me.

"What happened then?"

Timothée continued his story between bites. "Well, I figured I shouldn't waste the momentum to leave this place, so I just got in the truck in left. I held down some odd and end jobs, camped out in state parks or hotels until I got to the oil fields in Texas. Found a steady job and set myself up pretty well there for a few years until Mom died. I came back to help my dad keep up with the land and the house. He's not in great health, either."

"I'm so sorry, Timmy."

He paused, fork mid-air. "You haven't called me that in ages."

"Oh, sorr-"

"No, don't be. I- I've missed it." He half-smiled.

You blushed, dropped your eyes to your plate, and cleared your throat. "Any...significant others along the way?"

"I was engaged for a bit when I was in Texas. She was a nice girl, but I broke it off because it just didn't feel right. That was right before Mom passed. Since then, between work and taking care of my dad, I haven't had much time for, uh, exploring."

"You two ready for dessert?" the server asked as she came back around.

Timothée looked from the server to you. "The tiramisu here is amazing! Want to split one? Dessert's on me."

"That sounds divine."

With the previous candor interrupted, the two of you idly chatted while you waited for dessert. You asked after some of your high school classmates. He asked you about college life in California. Timothée offered you the first bite of the tiramisu when the server dropped it off.

"Oh, wow - that IS amazing!" You covered your mouth with your hand so as to not reveal the half-chewed cake.

Timothée chuckled. "Told you," he bragged as he popped a bite into his own mouth. You continued to take turns taking slivers of the cake until it disappeared.

You leaned back in your chair. "Mmm. That was so good."

"I'm glad you enjoyed it."

You settled the tab for the food, and he did so for the dessert. You left the restaurant and slowly ambled side by side back to the truck.

"Timmy?" You stopped short on the sidewalk in front of the truck, forcing him to turn back to look at you. "Thank you for making this whole...situation...more bearable. I can't imagine how lonely I would be right now if I hadn't bumped into you at the store."

Timothée stepped closer to you. He brushed a hair behind your ear that had been loosened by the wind. Your heart hammered at his touch and you felt heat flush your cheeks. He nudged your chin with his index finger so he could look you in the eyes.

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

<><><><><>

Chapter 7

Masterlist

Tag List:

@croatianprincess @bluizh

Still Here (Chapter 7)

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

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

Catch up on previous chapters here.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You blinked owlishly at him. "What?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

<><><><><>

Chapter 8

Masterlist

Tag List: @croatianprincess @bluizh

Still Here (Chapter 8)

Summary: Madison finds out about you and Timothée.

Catch up on previous chapters here.

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

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

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

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

"Awww!" Holly exclaimed with a pouted lip.

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

"It's a small town, honey."

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

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

"Very much so," you replied solemnly.

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

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

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

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

<><><><><>

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

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

"Hey, baby," he gushed.

You blushed and looked down at the ground.

"Too soon?" he asked worriedly.

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

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

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

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

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

"Timothée!" Madison cheered.

"Hey, kiddo! Whatcha working on?"

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

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

"Chicken wire," Madison continued.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yessss!" Madison squealed.

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

<><><><><>

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

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

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

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

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

"You're amaz-"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Is he why we came back here?"

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

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

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

"Do you like him?"

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

She nodded and went silent for a few moments.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

<><><><><>

Chapter 9

Masterlist

Tag List:

@croatianprincess, @bluizh, @jindongdongie

>>combining two similar asks, though tweaked to be gender neutral<<

Hold Me

You woke in the middle of the night to the sound of the shower running. You reached around beside you and found an empty space where Timothée would normally lay. Odd, you thought. You rolled over and tried to go back to sleep until you heard faint whimpering above the rushing water.

Concerned, you got up and quietly padded to the bathroom door. As you got closer, you could more clearly hear more sniffles. You lightly knocked, but Timothée did not answer. Too worried to prioritize his privacy, you pushed through the door and opened the shower curtain. At first, it looked as if nobody was there, until you looked down and saw your boyfriend sitting on the floor. He trembled as the water ran over him.

You immediately knelt to the bathmat and ran your fingers through his wet curls. His eyes were set in an unfocused stare that never showed any recognition of your presence.

"Baby, what's wrong?" you pleaded.

The sound of your voice brought his attention back to you. "Please. Please, hold me," Timothée begged before breaking down into sobs.

No questions asked, you dropped your robe and climbed into the tub. You sat behind him and pulled him close. He turned so his face laid on your bare chest. The water was hot, yet he was still shivering.

"Shhh, shhhh," you cooed as you rocked him slightly. "Can you tell me what's wrong?"

"I f-froze in rehearsal today. I couldn't rem-member m-my lines. I haven't been able to p-practice because I have to be everywhere all at once. Dinners, premiers, m-meetings, costuming, travel. I- I can't keep up. I can't do this. I just can't."

"You've been going at an inhuman pace. It was just a matter of time before it all caught up to you, my love." You kissed the top of his head. "You need a break."

"But, I have the premier in Montreal..."

"No buts. If you do not take a break voluntarily, then either your mind or body are going to force you to stop longer than you want," you said sternly, but gently, as you ran your fingers along his arm. "Now, let's get you toweled off so you don't also get sick on top of all of this."

You turned off the water and grabbed the towel. You gently squeezed the excess water from his curls, patting him dry as best you could from his seat on the shower floor.

"Can you stand, love?" you asked.

Timothée nodded and put his weight on his arms on the ledge of the tub. He stood shakily and took your hand to support his step out onto the bathmat. You wrapped the towel around his waist and guided him back to the bedroom. As you passed in front of the vanity lights, you saw just how dark and deep the circles were under his eyes.

You lifted the blankets and sheets so he could slide into bed. He whined for you to join him, but you first wanted to set up the diffuser with lavender oil and a white noise machine to help him sleep. As soon as you laid down, his gangly limbs snaked around you. You positioned yourself so that he could lay his head on you again. You placed a lingering kiss on his forehead. "I love you, Timothée."

He sighed and nuzzled into your neck. "I love you, too." Soon, his breathing evened out and slowed in sleep. The two of you became untangled during the night so that you were facing each other come morning. You woke up first and stared at his relaxed features. He came to a few minutes later.

"Please stay home today, my love. If you want, I'll even call your assistant to clear your day. You need to rest."

He smiled. "As long as you stay home today, too."

<><><><><>

Masterlist

Thanks to the snack wars video he did with Austin butler we know timothee has a sensitive stomach when it comes to spicy foods. Maybe during date night he gets sick from spicy food and Female reader takes care of him. He feels bad for ruining date night but she promises he didn’t.

Plz

Spicy

>>puke warning<<

Timothée squirmed in his seat next to you in the movie theater. You and he had been excited for months about seeing this particular movie and were ecstatic to get midnight tickets on opening night. At first, he only made tiny shifts. You thought maybe he was just trying to get comfortable, but the frequency intensified about halfway through the film.

"Are you alright?" you whispered.

Timothée nodded, though you could see from the light off the screen that his face scrunched in discomfort. Suddenly he jumped out of his seat and ran toward the aisle. You sat there in shock as you watched him race down the stairs and out of the theater.

After about 10 minutes and no sign of Timothée coming back, you got up to check on him. You pardoned your way past the folks you were interrupting and found your way to the men's restroom. You paced for a moment, unsure of what to do next. You bounced on the balls of your feet and psyched yourself up to crack the door open and call out to him, but before you could, you heard the miserable sound of him puking.

"Timothée?"

He retched once more before responding. "Babe, go back to the movie."

"I don't want to see it without you, love." All he could muster in response was a groan. "I'm going to go buy you a bottle of water. I'll meet you in the hallway when you're able." You walked over to the concession stand and stood in line to get him a drink. He weakly walked out of the bathroom as you got back to the hallway.

You uncapped and handed Timothée the bottle of water. "Here, drink this," you instructed. He took the bottle with a shaky hand. "Any clue what caused this?" You gently placed the back of your hand against his forehead to check for fever.

"I went to that crawfish boil that Austin invited me to."

You crossed your arms. "Let me guess, the food was spicy?"

"Yeah, like the kind that makes you sweat and your nose run."

"Timmy..."

"I know, I know. But I didn't want to be rude. His family went through a lot of trouble to cook all that food. And once I got past the heat, it tasted really good."

You just shook your head. It was just like your Timothée to be polite at his own physical expense.

"I think I can go back in now." You looked at your watch. At that point he had missed at least 30 minutes of the film.

You paused. "I- I think we've missed too much of it. We'll just come back another time."

His face fell. "I'm sorry I ruined our date night."

"You didn't ruin it, love. But next time, try to lay off the spicy food before we are about to see a three-hour movie."

Timothée held out his pinky and linked it with yours. "I pinky promise."

You grinned and kissed his cheek as you walked arm-in-arm out to the car.

<><><><><>

Masterlist

Still Here (Chapter 9)

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

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

Catch up on previous chapters here.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Hey." Madison put her book down.

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

"It's...small."

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

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

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

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

"Hello?" you answered in a questioning tone.

"I'm calling to talk to Madison."

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

"Go out? Like on a date?"

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

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

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

"Just let me talk to her."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"It's one of my faves!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You simply nodded. Your cheeks blushed from the attention.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He came undone at your confession.

<><><><><>

Chapter 10

Masterlist

Tag List:

@croatianprincess, @bluizh, @jindongdongie

Sick Timothee with fem reader as caretaker plz ❤️

Thanks to You

Summary: Fem!reader takes care of feverish Laurie

A/N: Decided to write using Timothee's Laurie as the main character because the time period makes fevers much more scary.

Laure's restless stirring awakened you. You blinked, unable to focus since it was still dark out. You reached your hand out to place gentle, comforting pressure on his arm, as you often did if he was suffering a nightmare, but instantly drew it back in shock. He was putting off more heat than your fireplace.

You grabbed the oil lamp on your nightstand and raised the flame. There was a sheen of sweat blanketing his forehead and chest, though he was shivering like he had been out in the snow. "Fever," you breathed out worriedly.

You jumped out of bed and quickly set to work gathering supplies. You immersed a cloth in water and wrung it out to place on his forehead. You rubbed the herb poultice Mrs. March had shown you how to make onto the soles of his feet and covered them with socks. He shifted his head side to side, mumbling your name.

"[Y/N], [Y/N]," he muttered weakly.

You ran your fingers through his damp curls. "I'm here, my love. I'm here."

"[Y/N]?" Laurie's glazed eyes opened, but they never focused on you.

He's delirious, you thought to yourself. You looked out the window, countenance falling as you realized the blizzard meant you could not send for help. The whole town was snowed in. "You have to get better, Laurie," you stated as you cradled your slight baby bump with your free hand.

He became slightly more alert as the dawn arrived. You took the opportunity to get him to drink some water. He was shaking so much from the throes of fever that he could not hold the cup without spilling. You sat beside him to support his head and hold the cup to his lips. You were grateful to see that at least some water made it into his mouth. Exhausted, he flopped his head back onto the pillow and looked up at you.

"Y-you should k-keep your distance. You d-don't n-need to get sick, too," Laurie said through chattering teeth.

"Nonsense. Who else is going to take care of you, hmm?" You half-smiled, not quite enough to reach your eyes. You wet the cloth again and gently wiped his neck, chest, and arms. "Are you hungry?" you asked when you finished, but there was no response. He had already fallen asleep again. You surveyed the dark purple circles under his eyes and the pallor of his skin.

You rose from your perch by Laurie's side to start some soup for when he woke again. He came to about an hour later. You helped him sit up against the headboard so he could eat. He scowled when you attempted to spoon feed him. "Come on, now. You need to eat something to keep your strength, and I'm sure you don't want to spill hot soup in your lap," you chided. He rolled his eyes and acquiesced. You chuckled. At least he was feeling good enough to give you an attitude.

The food did him some good, because soon he wanted to get up and move around. You helped him to the front room to his armchair. While he read by the fire, you changed the damp sheets. It wasn't long before he was ready to lay down again. The two of you repeated this cycle throughout the day.

When night came once more, the fever ravaged again. You covered him with every blanket in the house and practically laid on top of him to warm him up. The shaking eventually relented, giving both of you a reprieve. You fell asleep sitting next to the bed, holding his hand while your head rested on your arm.

You woke to the feeling of a hand playing with your hair. You groggily raised your head and were greeted by Laurie's smile. "Good morning, my dove."

You smiled at the nickname and placed a kiss on his forehead. "Your fever broke," you said in relief. Tears welled up in the corners of your eyes. "I was so worried."

"I'm alright, thanks to you."

<><><><><>

Masterlist

Tag List:

@croatianprincess

@bluizh

@jindongdongie

@groovyqueer

following this beautiful sickness ask trend...female reader fainting due to stress & her having a small argument with/getting scolded by Timothée while he takes care of her?🩷👀

Can't

You could hear the rumble of Timothée voice, but you were unable to focus on his words. While he chattered on while looking at his laptop right beside you, it sounded like he was rooms away. It took all of your energy and mental faculties to focus on just trying to breathe. Black spots crowded your line of sight as you put a hand out onto the counter to stabilize yourself. The motion caught Timothée's attention.

"[Y/N]?" he asked in concern.

"I-," was all you could mutter before your knees buckled. Timothée jumped from the bar stool to catch you as you fainted. "Whoa, [Y/N]! [Y/N]!" He gently lowered you to the ground and laid you on your back. He shook your shoulders and patted your cheeks. "Come on, [Y/N]. Wake up!"

Your eyelids fluttered and he released a shuddered breath in relief. You looked around, momentarily confused.

"You passed out. Again." Timothée looked down at your face in disapproval. "When was the last time you ate anything? Drank any water?" He helped you slowly sit up and lean against the couch.

"I'm fine. Stop fussing," you said, embarrassed.

"Stop fus- Listen here. YOU aren't the one who has to watch YOU faint. It is scary as hell. Every time I am terrified that you aren't going to wake up. One of these days I'm not going to be here to catch you before you hit the ground. Now. Answer me." He furrowed his brow and locked eyes with you. "When was the last time you ate or drank anything?"

Your eyes fell. "I don't know."

"You have to stop overworking yourself. You have to take breaks and take care of yourself."

"I know, but the success of the project I've spent YEARS of my life on comes down to getting this one thing right. I can't stop."

"Dammit, [Y/N], it's not worth your health," he shouted. "You need to slow down. The world, this project, will not collapse if you take 15 minutes here and there to take care of yourself."

"I CAN'T, TIMOTHÉE," you snapped.

Timothée recoiled slightly at your reaction. "And I can't watch you do this to yourself anymore," he said quietly. He got up, grabbed his keys and wallet, and walked out.

You stared at the door with your mouth agape in disbelief for a solid two minutes before tears clouded your vision. You and he have had heated arguments before, but never once had he walked out. He's right, you thought to yourself. You won't be doing anyone any good if you end up hospitalized.

You shakily stood, pushing yourself up using the frame of the couch for support. You slowly walked to the refrigerator and refilled your water bottle. Nauseous and lacking energy needed to make a meal, you opted to snack on crackers instead. You traipsed back to the couch and all but collapsed with your kitchen haul in hand. You hadn't stopped and relaxed in so long, you really weren't sure what to do next. Before you could grab the TV remote, you heard keys unlocking the front door. Timothée stepped through.

"I couldn't leave knowing that I just left you on the floor." He shrugged, hands in his pockets, unable to make eye contact.

"I'm glad you did."

His head shot up as he gave you a questioning look, unsure if he heard you correctly.

"It was uncharacteristic enough to shock me to my senses. You were right. No job is worth my health, and certainly not worth losing you over. I'm sorry, Timothée."

"I don't want an apology. I want to see action. Shut down that laptop for the night. Relax. Be with me. Please."

"Deal," you smiled and patted the seat next to you on the couch.

<><><><><>

Masterlist

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

Still Here (Chapter 11)

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

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

Catch up on previous chapters here.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

<><><><><>

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

...until the Tuesday after Thanksgiving.

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

"Hey, Timmy, what's up?"

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

"Timmy, where are you?"

"H-home."

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

"Oh, Timmy..."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Thank you for dropping everything for me."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

<><><><><>

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

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

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

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

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

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

<><><><><>

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

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

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

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

<><><><><>

Chapter 12

Masterlist

Tag List:

@croatianprincess

@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.

<><><><><>

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.

<><><><><>

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."

<><><><><>

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."

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

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?"

<><><><><>

Masterlist

Tag list:

@croatianprincess

@bluizh

@jindongdongie

@groovyqueer

Timothee having a nightmare during a thunderstorm and wakes up in a panic needing all the cuddles. 🥺 plz?

A/N:

Hope a Timmy character is ok - I've been wanting to try my hand at a Lee fic.

When I say "vocal panting," think of Paul's noises after he was stabbed in Dune 2.

C/W: Reference to past abuse

Thunder

The weather man on the radio said a severe storm was coming as you and Lee pulled into the state park that would be your home for the night. The wind was already picking up by the time you made your way to your campsite, so you both decided to sleep in the truck instead of the tent.

After a long day of traveling, the two of you were easily lulled to sleep by the gentle rain pattering on the windshield and the thunder that rumbled in the distance. Lee slept upright in the driver's seat, his curly red hair acting as a pillow against the window. Your position mirrored his on the passenger side, aside from your feet curled up in the seat.

A sudden clap of thunder shook the truck's windows and wrenched you from your slumber. You jerked upright as your heart raced and looked around to get your bearings. Beside you, you heard Lee's vocal panting. He was covered in a sheen of sweat, trembling and wide-eyed like a cornered animal. He turned his eyes toward you but remained unfocused as he tried to get away from some invisible phantom.

"Lee, love, look at me. Focus on me." You gripped his face between your hands and rubbed his cheeks with your thumbs.

"[Y/N]? Wha- where?" He blinked owlishly as he looked around.

"You are here with me in the truck. Where were you?" you replied softly, assuming the thunder pulled him from a nightmare.

"I was in the b-barn back home. M-my father w-was coming after me," Lee explained between rapid breaths.

You rested your forehead on his. "You're okay. He's gone. He can't hurt you anymore. Breathe with me, okay?" You took in a deep breath through your nose and let it out slowly through your mouth, exaggerating to encourage him to emulate you. He copied you and slowly calmed down.

"Thank you," he said sheepishly.

You kissed the tip of his nose. "Come here." You leaned back against the passenger door and opened your arms to invite him over. He shuffled over and laid against you as your legs and arms cocooned him in a safe embrace. You rested your cheek on the top of his head and held him like that until morning.

<><><><><>

Masterlist

Tag list:

@croatianprincess

@bluizh

@jindongdongie

@groovyqueer

Inspired by the restless night I just faced thanks to a loud thunderstorm crossing overhead, I decided to flip my recent storm fic in which Timmy/Lee needed comfort. Short but sweet.

Safe

You barely had time to register the flash of light that seared through your closed eyelids before a loud clap of thunder ripped you from a restless dream. You heard the window panes rattle in their frames as you shot upright in your bed, trying to catch your breath. It sounded like the storm was right on top of you, like somebody was playing the bass drum in your ear. Oh wait, that was your heartbeat.

Timothée reached up and rubbed a hand up and down your back. "Hey, shhh, it's ok. You're safe. It'll pass," he cooed in almost a whisper. You looked down at him, only able to make out the outline of his body in the dark, aside from the intermittent flashes of lightning.

He folded his arms around you as you slowly laid back down, your body turned toward him so your cheek rested on his chest. You tried to concentrate on the rhythmic lub-dub of his calm, steady heartbeat rather than the wild wind outside. You felt one of his hands make its way to the back of your head to play with your hair.

The next thing you knew, sunlight was filtering through your eyelids as you heard birds chirping outside. You weren't ready to open your eyelids, so you took in your surroundings with your other senses. Your cheek still rested on the soft skin of Timothée's chest. He smelled like comfort, like fresh mown grass and a hint of pine and leather. You felt his arm still cradling your back and his hand resting on your side. You blinked the sleep from your eyes and focused on his face, which was staring at the ceiling. He turned his head when he noticed your movement and smiled.

"Good morning, sunshine," he said softly, voice still gravelly with sleep.

"How long have you been awake?" you asked out of curiosity, since he seemed rather alert.

"A bit, but I didn't want to move and wake you."

You noticed your body was stiff from staying in one position for hours. You took pity on Timothée's arm, which you guessed was probably asleep from you laying on it, so you sat up to release him from your weight. He winced a little as feeling crept back into his hand. You brought it to your cheek and kissed his palm.

"I love you."

He half smiled and rubbed his thumb along your cheekbone. "I love you more," following along with the game you two played nearly every day.

"I love you most." You broke out in a grin, then launched yourself off the bed to go make breakfast before he could argue with you.

<><><><><>

Masterlist

Tag list:

@croatianprincess

@bluizh

@jindongdongie

@groovyqueer

A sickly Yule plz

(Timothee’s character from Don’t look up)

Awful

The sound of a hacking cough pulled me from my slumber. I rolled over and blindly patted the empty space in bed beside me. "Where's Yule?" I wondered until I heard the cough again.

I rubbed the sleep from my eyes as I walked to our apartment's living room, where I spotted Yule on the couch. He looked so small as he hugged his legs and rested his forehead on his knees. He didn't even hear you approach and startled as you sat beside him and rubbed his back.

"I'm sorry for [cough] waking you up."

I flashed him a pitying half-smile. "That's okay, baby. In sickness and in health, remember?"

"I feel awful," Yule whined miserably as he all but fell onto my chest when I opened my arms to beckon him over for cuddles. My fingers carded through his long hair in an effort to soothe him. I could feel the heat of his fever radiating off his body.

I grew concerned when I could both feel and hear his breath rattling in his lungs. "You're going to the doctor in the morning," I stated firmly, giving him little room to argue. Yule hates doctors and hospitals, so I was shocked when all I got in response was a weak nod. He must feel really bad.

He quickly fell asleep, and I didn't have the heart to move him. I slowly laid back to get comfortable and put him into a reclining position to breathe easier. I found myself jolting awake through the rest of the night to check on him.

When morning came, I eased myself out from behind him to get my phone and make an appointment with his doctor. It turned out that he had pneumonia, so I sent him straight to bed after we picked up his antibiotics from the pharmacy. It was hard to get lucid Yule to sit still, but I was able to bribe him with cuddles and potato soup - his favorite.

<><><><><>

Masterlist

Tag List:

@croatianprincess

@bluizh

@jindongdongie

@groovyqueer

Timothee gets overheated on the set of Dune and feels sick and reader who’s visiting him while they film in the desert takes care of him back at their rented apartment

C/W: hospital setting

Overheated

Thanks to the flexibility of your job to work literally from anywhere, you were able to accompany Timothée to Jordan when he was filming Dune 2. One day, you were strolling through the market while he was busy on set when you got a call from his assistant.

"Hello?"

"[Y/N], it's Lizz. He's alright, but..."

Your heart stopped. That was never a good start to a conversation.

"...we had to take Timothée to the hospital. He and Z were shooting a scene in the stillsuits, and he started fumbling over his lines. He got lightheaded and nearly fainted. He's hooked up to IV fluids and resting now."

"I- I'll be there as quick as I can. Can you stay with him until I get there? H-he hates hospitals," you stumbled over yourself due to rising panic.

"Of course."

Lizz let the staff know to expect you so they wouldn't stop you at the door. They quickly escorted you back to his bed. You pulled back the curtain, but her description did not adequately prepare you for what you saw.

Timothée's normally voluminous curls were plastered to his head by sweat. He was pale and shivering from the cold saline they were pumping into his bloodstream and the ice packs on his body. He opened his eyes as you touched his cold, clammy forehead. You could feel the grit from the sand on his skin.

"Hey," he rasped.

"Oh, Timmy," was all you could muster before you choked on tears. You brought his hand to your cheek and kissed his palm. You felt his thumb wipe a tear across your cheekbone.

"I'm alright, babe." He tried to reassure you.

"No, you're not." Your voice raised slightly as narrowed your eyes at him. "You are dehydrated. You are pushing yourself too hard. I kept telling you that your body would make you slow down if you didn't do so voluntarily."

"I know. B-"

"No buts. I am going to ask Lizz to clear your schedule for the rest of the week."

"They can't film without me," he argued weakly.

"Exactly! If you don't take care of yourself, you won't be able to film. Just think how many jobs will be lost if they lose their star. They cannot do this movie without you."

Timothée's eyes dropped, and he sighed heavily. "You're right."

"Damn right, I'm right," you said with a wink and a smirk. "I love you, Timothée. I just don't want to see you hurt like this again."

You took him straight to your shared apartment (a short-term lease) once he was discharged. He was still weak and shaky, so you supported his weight from the car up the stairs to the door. He practically collapsed on the bed, his lanky legs dangling from the edge. You took his shoes off and guided his legs under the covers.

Timothée fell asleep quickly, overextended just from the short journey. In the brief moments when he was awake, you encouraged him to sip on electrolyte mix. A few hours later, he attempted to get up. He was so weak that it didn't take much energy on your part to push him back down by the shoulder.

"I don't think so, mister. The doctor said you needed to rest."

"[Y/N], I don't think getting up to go to a different room counts as physical activity," he retorted. It was good to see he had the energy to argue.

"Whatever you need, I can get it for you."

Timothée smirked and raised an eyebrow. "And what if I need to go pee?"

You spluttered, then laughed, knowing he got you on that one. "Well, I would say that is a good sign and one of the few things you can get up for."

"Thanks. I can maintain at least a shred of my dignity. Do you know how embarrassing it was to nearly fall out on set?"

You tucked a loose curl behind his ear. "There's nothing to be embarrassed about, Timmy. They see how hard you work. The cast and crew care about you. Your phone has been blowing up ever since we got home. Z already sent over some of your favorite snacks."

"That was nice of her."

"They all want you to take the time you need to recover. Completely," you emphasized, "and not a moment sooner."

He let his head fall back on the pillow. "You were right that I needed to slow down. I went straight from Bones and All to Wonka to Dune. I promise, even though I may grumble about it, I will be a good patient until I am cleared to go back."

"Good. Besides, it'll be nice to sleep in, cuddle, and make some progress on our watch list," you replied.

Timothée squeezed your hand. "I'm glad you're here; otherwise, the downtime would be unbearable."

You pouted your lip at the sweetness. "There's nowhere else I'd rather be. I love you."

"I love you, too. But, babe, I really do need to go pee." You both laughed as you helped him stand.

<><><><><>

Masterlist

Tag List:

@croatianprincess

@bluizh

@jindongdongie

@groovy-lady

Misophonia

Summary: Timothée learns about your sensitivity to certain sounds. Female reader, boyfriend Timmy.

A/N: pulled from my own experience with self-diagnosed misophonia. Other's experiences may be different.

<><><><><>

You and Timothée were invited out on a double date with his friend, Aiden, and his girlfriend, Krista, at a nice restaurant downtown. You were seated at a circular table between Timothée and Krista. Once initial awkward conversation was out of the way, you and she hit it off once you discovered a mutual love of [insert fandom]. It felt like she was someone you could hang out with one-on-one in the future.

The evening was going smoothly until the salad and bread were brought to the table. It turned out that Krista was terrible at chewing with her mouth closed. You tried to focus on the boys' conversation to tune out the wet sounds of her smacking. You dreaded the main course, knowing you would have to endure more of these maddening noises. You were granted a temporary reprieve to regain composure when she finished her salad, but the entrees were served all too soon.

As Krista dove into her maple-glazed chicken breast, you felt yourself go pale. You stared at your own food and went through the motions of cutting it up and feeding yourself small bites, but you couldn't really even taste or enjoy it due to auditory overload. You felt your palms go sweaty as your breathing became more shallow and rapid. Your knee started bouncing as an outlet for the building panic.

You felt Timothée's hand move to your thigh. "Are you okay?" he whispered in your ear. You would normally enjoy the feeling of his nose grazing your cheek or the heat of his breath on your skin, but the sound of the whisper put you over the edge.

You nodded subtly, though your actions and demeanor demonstrated you were anything but. You dabbed your mouth with the cloth napkin, pushed yourself away from the table, and excused yourself to go to the restroom.

The budding rage gave you tunnel vision as you made your way to the back of the restaurant. Ironically, you didn't hear Timothée get up and follow you. Once you reached the hallway outside of the restrooms, you leaned against the wall with one hand to catch your breath. You whispered your sensory mantra to ground yourself, focusing on what you could see, smell, or feel rather than hear. You startled and spun around when you felt a hand take your free one.

"[Y/N], what is going on?" he asked, his voice laced with concern.

"I'm ok. I just need a minute. Please, just go back to the table."

Timothée made no move to leave you be. "I saw your jaw clench and nose flare. You're mad about something. What happened?"

You shook your head. Maybe later you could unpack just how sweet it was that he paid such close attention to you. "I'm not mad. Not exactly. I- I have trouble dealing with certain sounds. Like gum smacking, candy wrappers, the sound dry cotton balls make when you pull one apart. But smacking especially. It- it's called misophonia. I get...anxious and angry if it continues and panicky if I can't get away from it. Krista's chewing set it off."

"We can leave if-"

"No, no. It's ok. I'll be ok. I'll come back in just a minute." You put a hand to your forehead. "I'm sorry. Please go back and just tell them I needed to visit the restroom. Say the wine went to my head or something." You scoffed. "I'm usually better at dealing with this."

Timothée laid a hand on your shoulder. The weight of it was calming. "We all have...stuff, [Y/N]. I didn't much care for seeing half-masticated food rolling around in her mouth, either."

You giggled quietly, then cast your eyes to the floor.

"Why haven't you talked to me about this before?" he asked solemnly.

You raised your chin to look up at him. He looked sincere, not at all put off by what you had just admitted. "It's embarrassing. It's not exactly something easy to bring up in casual conversation," you replied. "And besides, when it's not triggered, I don't actively think about it. Like I said, I can usually work through it, especially if the exposure is limited."

"But you are miserable until it passes."

You simply nodded in response.

"Oh, [Y/N]," he whispered as he brought his hand to your cheek. "Thank you for telling me. You don't have to deal with this alone. Now I can be more mindful about your known triggers and help run interference before you get to this point." He paused briefly. "Though I don't know how to help once we get back to the table."

"I'll be ok. She should be done soon and dessert is a smaller course. She's otherwise a lovely girl, Timothée. Maybe we could find other...non-dining...things to do with them in the future."

He smiled and nodded. "Sure. I'll head back now that I know you're alright. Join us when you are able." He kissed your forehead and turned to leave.

"Timothée," you called out. He turned at the sound of his name. "Thank you for not making me feel...weird about it."

"Oh, you are weird, [Y/N]" he replied and flashed a grin, which you returned. "But not for that. And I love you for it. You're my weirdo."

You blushed as he turned away once again. You loved that man to the moon and back.

<><><><><>

A couple of days later, Timothée came by your apartment to hang out and watch a movie. He handed you a small box as he entered before plopping down on the couch. You sat down next to him and started to open it.

"I, uh, did some research on misophonia." He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "I read that these may help," he said as you pulled out a set of [insert favorite color] earbuds from the box. "They allow conversational tones through while - hopefully - muffling other unwanted noises."

You felt tears welling in the corners of your eyes as you looked over at him. "Thank you. And they are even my favorite color." He blushed as you kissed him on the cheek.

"Maybe you could try them out during the movie?" he offered. You nodded and set to securing them in your ears while he pulled up the film.

Timothée's purchase was spot on. You were able to hear the movie audio clearly and tune out his distracting yet endearing habit of shuffling through the popcorn bowl to find the pieces with the most butter.

When the credits rolled, he looked over at you inquisitively. "Well?"

"They worked! Thank you."

"Anything for my girl. I couldn't bear to think of all the times you were likely miserable while I was oblivious. And how often I may have unknowingly contributed."

"It's okay, Timmy. I can't expect everyone to tiptoe around me, nor do I want to make people feel self-conscious."

"Have I ever triggered it?"

You just stared at him, unsure of how to proceed.

"The answer is yes if you couldn't quickly say no. Just tell me," he prodded.

You gestured to the popcorn bowl. "This is a good example. The shuffling of popcorn when people grab a handful. It's usually not continuous enough to induce anger. Just annoyance and distraction."

Timothée looked horrified. "Oh...oh, [Y/N], I'm so sorry."

"See, this is why I don't talk about it. There is no use in shaming people for perfectly normal sounds. But the earbuds worked. I hardly noticed when you were digging through the bowl."

"Digging?" He raised an eyebrow in response.

You smiled widely. "You....have a habit of searching for buried treasure rather than taking some off the top."

Timothée blushed. "I didn't even realize. I guess that's weird, huh?"

"That's ok," you said soothingly as you kissed the tip of his nose. "You're my weirdo."

<><><><><>

Masterlist

Tag List:

@croatianprincess

@bluizh

@jindongdongie

@groovy-lady