Smuts - not my

Timothee Chalamet - Golden Globes

Anonymous asked:

omfg can i request a smut where the reader goes with timmy to the golden globes and since he's wearing rings maybe have the reader kiss or suck on his fingers and he just MELTS okay thanks <3

AO3 Original  by starsaregivenonceonly

Tim's right eyebrow had risen so far that it was partially hidden beneath his curls, which had grown in rather nicely since last summer. His hair looked sexy, might as well say it how it was. You sat next to him in a large ballroom, surrounded by hundreds of people as they announced the nominees for one of the final awards of the night. Every time he shifted, he sparkled, blinding and beautiful.

You kissed his pointer finger for a moment longer, the ring itself, then kissed the tip of his middle finger, moving down its side oh so slowly. His mouth parted, and he visibly swallowed rather hard.

"You look really fucking good," you breathed on the skin between his fingers, smiling. He shuddered, swallowing again.

"I gotta keep up with you, baby," he mumbled, eyes locking onto your legs. Black to match, the dress was shorter than you usually dared, higher on the chest with a bold exposure of your back, almost all the way down. He had cussed for a long time when you emerged from the dressing room hours ago and spun in a circle. His fingers found your thigh for a moment, hooking under your knee and lifting one leg onto his lap. You followed with the other, pushing down the adrenaline and dopamine, not here. He held your ankle absentmindedly, squeezing when you lightly licked the tip of his finger.

"Baby..." he tone was warning now, and you giggled, kissing the inside of his wrist and letting his hand fall onto your lap.

"My apologies."

"Oh, that's not what I'm looking for."

"Enlighten me?"

"You'll find out." He curtly turned his head to watch the stage, his jaw clenched. You chewed on your thumbnail, eyes exploring his neck, desiring so very deeply to bite it hard.

His award went to another, and you could tell that it bothered him whether he was distracted by you or not. He wanted so badly to win, to have his name announced, to say something on stage. You were so fucking proud of him no matter what, but it was hard to watch his disappointment. It hurt your heart. Turning his head until he made eye contact, you kissed him lightly on the lips, holding his chin.

"I love you, and I'm so proud of you. You've won me over, and so many others. You'll get there someday, okay? No award is needed for you to make a name for yourself and leave the mark on the world that you have."

His eyes softened, and he pulled you closer by the waist to kiss you firmly, putting his other hand on the back of your neck. "I love you."

"I love you," a smooch to the chin, the side of his jaw, his neck, and you sat back in your seat, clearing your throat and pushing down the need to touch him. Soon. He smirked and watched the stage again, massaging your ankle now with long fingers. Oh.

Dancing on a wooden floor, your arms around his neck, his arms around your waist, nobody else existed. Cameras flashed, you momentarily prayed photos wouldn't be plastered on the internet... but he didn't seem to care at all, so why should you? It was an intimate moment, sure... but Timmy had brought you here, stood with you in front of the world, held you close, he wanted them to know. So fuck it. You kissed him again, dancing faster, moving your hips into his core and enjoying the growing hardness beneath his belt. He groaned into your lips, squeezing you tightly and rolling his body a little.

"Get me a drink, and we'll leave after?" It was fun to tease him, make him wait, frustrate him. His jaw clenched for the umpteenth time that night, and he kissed the corner of your mouth before making his way to the bar. You sat down at a side table and breathed out slowly, watching a random mix of celebrities jiving together in rhythm on the wood. A few you had met, most you were too scared to talk to. If they approached, you graciously said hello, if they didn't, you waited for Timothée to introduce you. Several were far more curious than you had imagined, but, after all, he was so, so loved by many.