Timothe Hal Chalamet - Tumblr Posts

If they make an adaptation of the Iliad and they cast someone as Timothée Hal Chalamet to play Paris.

I'll be like :ok you're right, but BUT I DON'T LIKE IT

I so need to write stuff for Timothee Chalamet, please send me requests!

STILL HERE | "They're eating sushi!'

✦ Sumarry: Y/n comes to her ex-boyfriend Lando Norris' defense when he's being canceled, and Lando couldn't be happier about it.

✦ Pairing: Ex!Lando Norris X Actress!Reader. | Timothee Chalamet? 👀 | ✦ WC: 1.491

A/n: English is not my first language, forgive my spelling mistakes dear.

LAST | S.MASTERLIST | NEXT

Y/n sighed and put her phone in her pocket.

"What happened?" Her castmate Timothee asked, handing her a cup of coffee.

"As if you didn't know." She said laughing, and he smiled back, scratching the back of his neck.

"Well, but it could be another reason!" He said laughing, making her laugh even more.

Timothee looked at her and noticed her worried look.

"I read your text, it must have helped him a lot."

"Yes, but Lando is a little immature sometimes, and that makes things worse." Y/n sighs and runs her hand over her face.

"I wouldn't like being his lawyer." Timothee says making Y/n laugh.

"Thank God you act then, huh?" The two laugh and stay silent for a moment.

"Don't think too much about it, he has to deal with the consequences, I would say you've already done too much for him., none of my ex-girlfriends ever wrote me a cute text like that when I got canceled." Timothee says laughing and Y/n laughs more.

"Oh, poor him." She says, squeezing Timothee's cheek with her free hand.

"But seriously, I bet he's completely crazy about you right now." He says, raising his eyebrows and Y/n rolls her eyes.

"WHERE ARE MY TWO PROTAGONISTS?!" They hear the director yell, and Timothee whimpering covering his face with his hands.

"For the love of God, I just want a break!" he pretends to cry and Y/n rolls her eyes pulling his hand away.

And Timothee was completely right, Lando was checking his phone every 30 seconds to see if there were any messages from his ex-girlfriend.

"Stop checking your fucking phone Lando, her not going to call." Carlos said, patting Lando on the shoulder.

The pilots were all together on a "guys' night", but Lando couldn't keep his head there.

"Yeah, she was really nice to make that Instagram post for you." Charles says sitting next to Lando.

"Sorry, I'm lost." Max says trying to make sense of the matter.

"Didn't you see? They're canceling Lando." Charles says pushing Lando's shoulder.

"He seems pretty happy for someone who's being canceled."

"That's because Y/n made a post on Instagram defending him." Carlos says and Lando smiles as he remembers.

"Y/n? Your ex-girlfriend?" Max asks, still a little confused.

"That's her." "But you don't think she wants to get back with you just because of that, do you?" Pierre says, breaking Lando's smile.

"Why else would she do that?" Lando says a little louder now and Pierre scoffs.

"She might be completely over you, which is why she doesn't feel uncomfortable doing it." He shrugs, irritating Lando.

"That doesn't make sense..."

"Actually, it kind of does." George says thoughtfully.

"Why did you guys break up?" Oscar asks, and Carlos scoffs, taking another sip of his beer.

"I broke up with her." This gets Pierre's attention.

"Why would you do something crazy like that?" Pierre asks, laughing.

"Because... Iwantedtoenjoy." Lando says this so quietly and quickly that the pilots look at each other in doubt.

"You wanted to what?" Chales asks and Lando covers his face with his hands.

"I wanted to have fun, but I couldn't do that if I was dating."

When he finishes, there is silence in the middle of it, and wide eyes towards Lando.

"If you broke up with her, why the fuck do you want to get back together?" Pierre asks indignantly.

"Okay, let me get this straight, you broke up with your girlfriend of two years because you wanted to be with everyone until you caught a sexually transmitted disease?" George says and Carlos laughs.

"No, look, I don't know, I just wanted to have fun, okay?"

"Oh, I would have had a lot of fun if I was dating her." Pierre says laughing, making the others laugh along.

"Fuck you!" He says, getting up from the couch and heading to the kitchen to get some water.

"Wait Lando, it was a joke!" Pierre says laughing but Lando gives him the middle finger.

"Was it a joke Pierre?" Charles asks

"No" Pierre says laughing

Lando finds a bottle of water and leans against the counter, drinking it and checking Instagram.

He never unfollowed her, and she never unfollowed him, like she said, they remain friends. In fact, she has always been much more mature than him, and he remembers how she reacted to the breakup like it was yesterday.

—

"It's not you, okay? It's me." Y/n sighs and massages her temple.

"Lando, I know it's not me, and it's okay that you don't want to be with me, I just need to know why, that's all."

"I want to have fun, I want to go out with guys without having to worry about someone else holding me back." Y/n scoffs at that.

"I never stopped you from going out with your friends."

"I know, but you end up getting in my way."

"You end up getting in my way." That's what he said to the woman who put up with him day and night.

"That's right Lando, if I'm just a stone in your way, I better go." Y/n says this with an expression that leaves Lando upside down, Y/n has always been very reserved when it comes to feelings.

"I don't want to lose your friendship Y/n." Lando says as soon as she turns her back. She sighs and looks at him smiling.

"You're not going, you can count on me if you need anything."

And yes, he did and she was there, just like she said she would be.

—

Lando went on Y/n's Instagram for the tenth time that day, maybe to read her text again, or to see if there was a new post or story from her, he doesn't really know.

He just wanted some kind of update, that's all.

He feels his heart beat faster when he sees that there was a new story from her, but before he can press the photo icon, a hand squeezes his shoulder making Lando almost drop his phone.

"Damn Carlos, what a scare." Lando says, dropping the water bottle and putting his hand on his chest.

"You weren't upset, were you? You know how Pierre is." Carlos says, patting Lando on the back.

"I know, I'm just pissed at myself, that's all." Lando says, pressing Y/n's photo icon and immediately regrets it.

"What the FUCK is this?" Lando screams and Carlos snatches the phone out of Lando's hand to look at it too.

"Oh my God, Lando, they're eating sushi!" Carlos can't help but laugh and Lando takes the phone back, looking at those images.

"Fuck! Fuck!"

"I don't know why you're so nervous, she said herself that they were on a break from the movie, besides, you guys aren't even dating anymore." Lando looks at Carlos without answering.

Carlos knew he was a little drunk and stressed, and he knew Lando would have to deal with the consequences even in that state.

Carlos sighs as he hears Lando sniffle.

"I miss her..." He says softly, wiping his eyes on his sweatshirt sleeve.

"Oh Lando, come here." Carlos pulls Lando into a tight hug.

"I know you feel that way, but things can still work out, it's not like they're posting pictures on social media or anything." Carlos tries to joke, but Lando lifts his head and walks away from Carlos, fiddling with his phone.

"That's it, I need to go on his social media."

"I didn't say that-"

"Son of a bitch!" Lando yells and Carlos closes his eyes.

"Lando, please-"

"Look at this!" He practically rubs his phone in his friend's face showing a post from Timothee.

Liked by youruser, carlossainz55 and other people

Tchalamet 🫡

@Youruser

—

Youruser 🫡

Tchalamet 🫡

User1 I hope they get together Geez.

User2 I don't know if I want her or him

User3 I think she deserves someone good for her

User4 I hope this movie gets nominated for an Oscar

-

"Why the hell did you like, Carlos?" Lando yells in Carlos' face.

"I liked it? I didn't even notice."

"Yes, you liked it damn it, whose side are you on?" Carlos observes Lando's state, controlling himself not to laugh.

"I'm on her side, for sure."

"This isn't going to stay like this, not at all." Lando starts doing something on his phone and Carlos sighs for the thousandth time in that half hour.

"Don't do anything you might regret later."

"There, it's done!"

"You must be possessed or something."

—

Timothee was looking at his Instagram and raised his eyebrows, surprised by what he saw in his notifications.

landonorris started following you

—

Taglist

@emryb @sltwins @lottalove4evelyn @weekendlusting

Cigarettes

Timothée Chalamet x fem!Reader

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yes." He mumbled, now looking down.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Books, pillow talks, and an attention-craving boy

Timothée Chalamet x fem!Reader

I was engrossed in 'If We Were Villains," by M. L. Rio, when I heard the door to mine and my boyfriend, Timothée's shared bedroom creak open—just enough for him to peak in. "Hi love," he chimed, entering the room and settling down beside me.

Despite knowing that Tim was there, my eyes remained glued to the page. "Hey," I murmured, too absorbed in the book to feign enthusiasm.

"What are you reading?" He inquired, shifting to lay down directly on top of me, harshly pressing his face into my stomach.

I awkwardly folded the book so that he could see the cover, prompting him to nod in acknowledgement once he read the title.

For about 20 minutes, Tim tried everything he could to divert my attention away from my book and onto him. But once he realized my unwavering focus on the book, he started to grow bored. With a dramatic sigh, he got up, slamming the door shut.

I flinched a little at the sound, but overall I didn't think too much of it as I continued to read, since I was nearing the end. After I read it from front to back, I closed the book, setting it down on my nightstand, before getting up to go look for Tim.

As I descended the stairs, I noticed an unusual quietness, contrary to Timothée's usual ruckus. Muffled talking reached my ears as I entered the living room, finding Tim asleep on the couch with our old, beaten-up radio softly playing in the background.

I walked over to him, waking him up with a gentle shake; he let out a groan, slowly opening his eyes, before asking, "What do you want?" with a hint of sass.

"I want to cuddle," I whispered, reaching my arms out to him, repeatedly making a grabby hand motion, while giving him my best puppy dog eyes.

"Oh so now you want to give me attention," he said, rolling his eyes and turning away from me.

"Timmy," I whined, sitting beside him and pressing my head into his neck, placing a few light kisses there as a way to convince him to cuddle with me.

When he didn't respond, I pressed my mouth against his ear, whispering, "Please baby," while rubbing small circles on his back.

After a moment of faux contemplation, he smiled, lazily pulling me on top of him, before shifting so that I was under him. Once we both got comfortable, he wrapped his arms around my waist, nuzzling his head into my neck, gently sucking on the skin there, causing me to bite back a moan from the sensation he was giving me. "Goodnight, mon amour," he said with a smirk, momentarily lifting his head up to press a kiss on my forehead before returning his face back to my neck.

"Night night," I sleepily replied, wrapping my arms and legs around him, pulling him as close to me as possible.

Worries and apologies

Timothée Chalamet x fem!Reader

I slammed the passenger door of my fiancé's car shut as I stormed inside mine and Timothée’s house, not caring enough to wait for him to get out of the car. I walked into our bedroom, crawling into bed, and pulling the blanket up to my neck, my back facing the door.

I sat there taking in everything that had happened earlier that day, growing more upset as I replayed Timothée screaming at me in front of our family and friends over and over again in my head.

Timothée and I had planned on going to dinner with our close friends and family as a way of spending our 3 year anniversary, but it didn't go as any of us expected. We ended up getting into an argument before we could even leave the restaurant.

I laid in the dark as tears started to form in my eyes as I tried to sink further into the mattress, wishing that I could just disappear.

I eventually decided that I was going to stay at a hotel for a few days, since I figured Timothée wouldn't want to see me. I grabbed the telephone that was on the side table, dialing a hotel's number as I waited for them to pick up. Once they did, they informed me that there would be an available spot in an hour. They said that they just needed to get it cleaned and that they would call back when it was ready. So I made a reservation before I got up from my bed, walking into my closet, grabbing my pajamas and a couple of outfits before stuffing them into a small bag. I went back into bed, waiting for the phone to ring, when I heard the bedroom door opening and then slamming shut. I jumped a little at the noise as I pulled the blanket up more, hoping that he wouldn't try to talk to me. However, my hopefulness soon disappeared as I felt the bed dip.

I pulled the blanket further up my body, as I tried to pretend that he wasn't there. Which worked up until I felt his arms wrapping around my waist, pulling me closer to him until my back hit his chest, pressing a kiss to my shoulder. I sat there, not moving, waiting for him to talk. It didn't take long before I heard him speaking in a calming tone, slightly whispering. He almost never spoke that way with me unless he knew I was unhappy with him. He thinks that if he lowers his volume, it will make up for raising his voice at me, but it doesn't.

"Y/n, I'm sorry for earlier. I shouldn't have raised my voice at you. It won't happen again, I promise." He said, pressing a kiss on my neck with every word he spoke.

I knew that what he was telling me was the truth, but I couldn't help but feel like it wasn't. So I stayed put. I felt him holding onto me tighter as I started to feel bad. I was about to roll over when I heard the phone starting to ring, "hello, who is this?" I heard Timothée say, as I closed my eyes, hoping that it wasn't the hotel. 

"Oh uh no I would like to cancel that reservation." He said in a serious tone.

I looked up seeing him with an unreadable look on his face, soon enough he put the phone down as he turned to the side to face me, "You were going to leave?" He asked me, moving a strand of hair away from my eyes.

I didn't know what to say. How could I tell the man I am about to marry that I was thinking of leaving him for a few days? So I just nodded my head.

"Please don't ever leave me, I'm so sorry." Timothée said, his voice breaking, before engulfing me into a tight hug.

 "I won't, I’m sorry, I forgive you," I whispered in his ear, wrapping my arms around his neck, playing with the tips of his hair. 

"Promise?" He asked, keeping his head into my neck, not wanting to look at me.

"I promise," I said, pressing a kiss on the top of his head as I pulled his body closer to mine, my heart melting when he wrapped his arms around me.

Only one bed

Timothée Chalamet x fem!Reader

The anticipation for the premiere of my latest project, 'little women' had my nerves on edge as I sat in the airport, waiting for my Uber. Tomorrow's event promised excitement and anxiety in equal measure – after all, being one of the main characters in a show was a huge accomplishment for me.

As I scrolled through my Instagram feed, a message from my driver notified me of his arrival. Stepping outside the airport, I was met by a cheerful man who swiftly took my suitcase and stowed it in the trunk before we set off on the short journey, engaging in light conversation along the way.

My phone buzzed incessantly with notifications from the group chat comprised of my fellow 'Little women' cast members. Amidst the chatter, the revelation that we had to share rooms due to a booking oversight surfaced. I sighed inwardly, hoping I wouldn't end up rooming with Timothée – a fellow actor whom I didn't like, at all.

"Miss, we're here," The driver said, getting out and walking around to the trunk to get my bags. Once I got out of the car, I heard someone shout, "Y/N!" looking up I saw Florence with her arms wide open sprinting over to me. I smiled at her, engulfing her in a bear hug. We stayed that way for a while until we heard someone calling our names. We turned around to see Saoirse behind us. "We're deciding who's rooming with who." She said, walking back to the hotel's lobby with Florence and I following close behind her.

***

"Oh fuck no!" I yelled, "I'm not going to be sharing a room with this mother fucker." I said pointing towards Timothée.

"Yeah, and I don't want to share a room with her either!" He retorted, crossing his arms and pouting, causing me to roll my eyes at his childish behavior.

After a while of arguing I eventually gave up, knowing I wouldn't win this argument.

I was to share a room with Timothée. Our mutual disdain for each other was palpable as we rode the elevator to the 19th floor.

"Going up," the elevator announced as it started moving.

I shot Timothée a scornful glare, my irritation palpable at the thought of sharing a room, especially with him – the last person I wanted as a roommate.

The elevator opened revealing the floor we would all be staying on for the next few days. We all went our separate ways just wanting to get to our rooms.

Timothée and I were walking down the halls when we saw our room number. Disgruntled and resigned to our fate, Timothée opened the door throwing his bags on the floor and going straight to the bathroom, grabbing a cup, and filling it with water, while I just stood in the middle of the room in shock.

"Uh, Timothée," I called out to him.

"What n/n?" He said with attitude, walking over towards me and taking a sip from his water.

"Look!" I said, pointing to the spacious yet troubling sight – a solitary king-size bed occupying the center of the room.

Any other person from the cast and I would've been totally fine with it. Why out of all the people did it have to be with Timothée? "You sleep on the bed; I'll sleep on the floor,""He said, grabbing two of the pillows and one of the blankets.

Feeling guilt take over my body, I said, "Tim, it's fine; we could just share the bed; we could put a pillow to divide us."

He didn't reply; he just smiled, throwing the pillow and blanket back on the bed before leaving for the bathroom once again. Timothée emerged from the bathroom in casual blue-and-white pajamas, a departure from his usual appearance. He settled onto his side of the bed, slipping beneath the duvet and cuddling against his pillow. He actually looked kinda cute right now. As much as I hated to admit it, he was a really attractive guy, he just has a terrible personality.

I, too, got under the covers, snuggling up into my pillow before drifting off to sleep.

The night passed relatively quiet until the early hours of the morning, I awoke to sudden movement in the room. To my dismay, my eyes slowly opened to reveal Florence, Emma, and Saoirse standing around the bed, brandishing their phones like paparazzi. I shot up, waking Timothée up from my sudden movements. "What the hell are you guys doing in here?" I questioned.

"I think the real question is how you even got in here." Timothée said, with an annoyed expression.

"Irrelevant," Florence said as Saoirse shoved her phone in our faces.

"Look how cute you guys look!" She said, revealing a photo of Timothée and me spooning with his arm wrapped around me.

My face flushed red as I looked down trying to hide my face. After a while of them teasing us, they eventually left. "Hey, um sorry about that, I didn't know I did that in, my sleep," Timothée said, his head down in embarrassment.

I put my hand on top of his making him look at me. "It's fine, really," I said, smiling at him.

Driven by a surge of impulse, I closed the distance between us, our lips colliding in an unexpected union. Timothée responded, his touch gentle yet firm as he cradled my face in his hands. A smile crept onto my lips as I tangled my fingers in his curls, savoring the moment of intimacy. We both pulled away for air, going back for another kiss when we heard someone clearing their throat, jumping away from each other we saw Emma and Saoirse with big smiles on their face, "you owe me 20 bucks, pay up." Florence said, putting her hand out.

"Seriously how the fuck are you guys getting in here?!"

***

This is definitely not my best work ever, so I apologize for that.

Hair dye

Timothée Chalamet x fem!Reader

"Tim, you have to sit still, unless you want to look like Oscar the grouch." I teased, carefully applying more blue hair dye to my boyfriend Timothée's now blond curls.

With less than a week before he had to return to film his latest movie in LA, Tim arrived home two days ago with a list of tasks he needed to complete, including the need for blue hair.

Nerves fluttered within me when he first mentioned dyeing his hair. Since it had been five years since I last experimented with hair dye at the age of 16. And the last thing I wanted to do was to jeopardize his appearance and disrupt the film schedule.

"Are you almost done?" he whined, growing bored.

"Just about, you just have to sit with this in for an hour then rinse it out." I replied painting the last bit of his bleached blond hair.

"Done," I announced, watching as he eagerly grabbed his phone to catch a glimpse of his new hair. His eyes widened in a mixture of shock and distaste, causing a chuckle from me.

"You're dashing, baby," I teased, causing him to roll his eyes.

I retrieved a hair cap from the table to contain the dye and returned to Tim. "Do you still love me, even though I look hideous?" he pouted, turning to face me.

"My love, I hate to break it to you, but I never loved you," I teased, prompting a shocked expression from him before he enveloped me in a hug from behind.

"You really don't love me?" He said pouting in disappointment. "Because I love you," he declared, showering kisses along my shoulder and neck, knowing full well I was ticklish there.

"I love you too, Timmy," I responded, turning around to face him, and immediately he ducked his head down and pulled me into a kiss. What started as just an innocent kiss now turned into a make out session. His lips travelled to my neck, gently sucking on the skin. He was planting sloppy kisses on my collarbone making his way up to my neck. Suddenly, the timer interrupted, eliciting a groan from Tim.

"Well, thats your cue," I remarked, stealing a quick kiss before retreating to wash my hands.

As I turned on the faucet, Tim's voice echoed from the bathroom doorway, "Don't forget the soap! I can't go back to filming with blue handprints all over my body!"

I chuckled, shaking my head. "Oh, believe me, Tim, that won't be a problem!"