timothée chalamet imagines

lover boy

your pov

I pranced around the living room, making the broom my makeshift microphone. I did a sweep here and there, hopping over to the next spot I saw that was dusty with a sway in my hips.

"Your sweet loving is better than a kiss," I sang with a smile on my face "when you leave me, sweet kisses I miss!"

My hips moved along to the beat of the song, the notes played on electric guitar, bang of the cow belle as I continued the last of my sweeping.

"Sylvia!" I heard a voice sing along.

I turned around quickly, there's my lover boy.

"Yes, Mickey?" I blushed.

"How do you call your lover boy?" Timothée sang, stern look on his face.

"Come here, lover boy." I sang, slowly stepping toward him and dropping the broom to the floor.

"And if he doesn't answer?" he raised his brow.

"Oh lover boy." I put my hands on my chest, batting my eyelashes ridiculously.

"And if he still doesn't answer?!" Timmy practically yelled.

I pointed my finger for him to come my direction, the same sway in my hips, just a bit more sensual now that he was in my presence.

"I simply say, baby, oh baby-" I broke into laughter as he came to me and pulled me into him by the waist.

His hands were on my hips, my arms wrapped around his neck. And we danced around the living room goofily.

My sweet baby, you're the one
Baby, oh sweet baby

Timothée grabbed my hand, spinning me all the way out. And he was quick to bring me right back into his arms, so ever close.

"My sweet baby, you're the one." he smiled and leaned in, pressing a kiss to my lips.

A/N: if you've never seen Dirty Dancing, what are you doing with your life? Honestly. 🤨🗿