TW: Blades, abuse, mentions of death and murder, swearing, toxic bitch
a/n: I DO NOT SUPPORT/PREMOTE THE TOXICITY OF THIS RELATIONSHIP. ABUSE IS SUCH A HORRIBLE THING AND I DO NOT MEAN TO ROMANTICIZE IT. THIS IS PURELY FICTION ONLY MEANT FOR A STORYLINE
You ever see those commercials where people screw up the simplest of things in the most idiotic fashion? That's basically what happened here, but we'll get to that later.
Heart racing, you looked to the door as you heard footsteps approaching. They were long, heavy strides, meaning it must be Timothee. You went to stand by the door to greet him as he came in, just as he insisted.
He said it was to let him know you would 'always be there for him.'
'Aww how romantic!' No. The way he meant it says otherwise.
He meant it quite literally. Now that you know of Tim's secrets, there was no way he would let you runaway now. You were stuck with him.
Just him. No other male friends, apart from his brother, though you and Alex were not exactly friends. You had promised.
But promises are meant to be broken. Right? Wrong. So very, very, wrong. No promises made to Timothee could be broken. That rule may not apply everywhere, but it certainly did with him.
But how would he know? He wouldn't know that you had talked to him. He couldn't. Could he? If he did, Lord have mercy, because you would need it.
If he knew that you had talked to this man not only once, but several times, you didn't want to even think about the consequences.
Timothee harshly pushed open the door, and you could practically feel the anger radiating off of him. You would have to be extra wary today.
"Hello, love. How was your day?" you said, going to kiss his cheek.
But before you could, he roughly shoved you, sending you stumbling away.
"Don't give me that bullshit!" he yelled. "I know what you've done! What you've been doing!"
You felt the color drain from your face, but tried to quickly recompose yourself.
"Tim, what're you talki-" you started, but was cut off by Timothee pinning you to the wall, his frame pressed against yours. Your breathing is heavy, and you can see the anger in his eyes.
"What's his name? Ben?" he drawls, calmly. "Oh Y/n, you know who you belong to. You know you are mine. And mine alone. My perfect masterpiece." he muttered, caressing your back, around to your front.
Your fists clenched, breath quivering at Timothee's touch.
"You didn't make me." you whispered.
"Of course I did." hesaid. "What would you be without me? I've practically written myself across your skin. Here..." one of his hands lifted your shirt up a bit, as the other one traced the scar across your stomach, to the one along your arm, to the thin slice across your cheek. "Here, and here." Timothee pressed his lips hardly against your ear, smearing against your skin with every word, sending shivers down your spine. "Must I continue to remind you, that you are mine? That I am the only man allowed to touch you." he started kissing down your jawline. "That I am the only man, to love you. To kiss you. To feel you." he said, nipping at your skin each word. "Who do you belong to?" he asked angrily, bringing his face level to yours.
"Y-you." you whimpered quietly.
"I didn't quite hear you. What was that?"
"You. Timothee." you whimpered.
Tye tall man smirked, stepping away and over to a table, opening the drawer and bringing out a small blade.
"Then, why have you been with another man? Hm?" he asked, coming back to you, putting the blade to your jaw.
"W-what?" you whimpered.
"Did I stutter, darling? Ben. What's so special about this boy? Maybe I should find out." Your eyes widened at Timotheee's words. You knew that if Tim were to see Ben, well he'd be the last person to.
"Find out?" you asked.
"Yes. Have a nice chat with him before he dies." he replied, evenly.
"D-dies?! Timothee, what do you mean?" you knew exactly what he meant, though you asked none the less.
Timothee smiled, pressing the blade to your jaw a bit harder, not enough to hurt, but enough to draw blood. "I mean exactly what I said. Anyone that touches something of mine without permission should be punished." he said, bringing the blade down to his side.
"Timothee, no, please. I'm begging you, Tim." you pleaded, clinging onto his jacket.
"Are you?" Timothee drawled. "If you were begging, you'd be on your knees."
———
a/n
sorry for the short chapter. i'm really disappointed with the first chapter, but hopefully it will get better. gosh, that sounded retarded lmao. but whatever. i feel like this is almost an introduction but i guess i'll just leave it as the first chapter? anyways ily and ty! <3
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The Family Won't Like This -Timothee Chalamet x reader x Ben Barnes
Fanfic**DISCONTINUED UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE** If she would have known that loving would be like this, she never would have started ,,You call it crime, We call it smart family business" Y/n didn't know what she was getting into when she met Timothee. Charmi...
