SFW Timothee Chalamet and Reader Imagines

Info - famous Timmy, famous reader, pining, desired sex, friends to lovers, implied smut, mentions of blow job, Timmy's POV, song fic

I waited for her in the car, my leg bouncing nervously. Every time I saw her the tension got thicker. Every touch, every word, it heightened the wave that had yet to break. Fuck I hope it broke and drowned me with its intensity.

She came out in violet, and I'd never liked the color so much. Her hair was full of yellow berets. She looked adorable, and like a summer fling I wanted to make into something serious. As we faded into fall all I wanted was cuddling with her around a fire, feeding her marshmallows, smelling candles, carving pumpkins, and kissing under the autumn moon. But it was still summer now, so I wanted cuddles during hot storms, staring at the stars, sweaty sex on a warm Sunday morning, and seeing her in every bikini and sundress she owned.

"Hey Timmy," she said. It'd been drizzling and the drops sparkles in her eyelashes.

"What are we doing?" She asked after I gave her a hug that lasted much too long. Her skin smelled like honeysuckles.

"I thought a night time drive and then some Taco Bell? No one will notice us that way," I smiled.

"I'd love that," she grinned. At first we talked about our day, but as my playlist played banger after banger we turned into karaoke singers, singing, very obviously, to one another. When "I want to hold your hand" by the Beatles came on, she grabbed my hand that wasn't on the wheel. My heart jumped as her high voice sang along. She didn't let my hand go when the next song played. We rapped along to Childish Gambino.

"You've got diverse taste," she smiled as we opened our Taco Bell in the dark parking lot.

"Yeah, I like a lot of stuff, oh, your phone is buzzing," I said and handed it to her.

"Hey Bry," she said, I watched her lips. "Yes with Timothée, but I did something bad." She winked at me.

"Yeah, I gave him a blow job," she said and I couldn't swallow. She was like this, she liked playing pranks. "What do you mean you don't believe me? We could definitely be more than just friends. Oh whatever, you're right. Yeah, yeah, see ya."

"She didn't believe you?" I asked, finally clearing my throat.

"Na," she said not making eye contact. We drove back to her hotel. The drive back was much quieter and more subdued after her lie. I looked over at her as we parked.

The Color Violet by Tory Lanez came on. I placed a hand on her thigh. She looked at me.

"The color violet has never looked better than tonight," I said, picking at her jumpsuit.

"Could we be more than friends?" She asked quietly. I pounced. The kiss was hungry and was making up for so much damn lost time. The song blared through the speakers as I kissed her. Her lips tasted like the best thing, and I adored her scent. I wanted to be all consumed by her.

"Up to my hotel," she gasped and I nodded.