" salt air and the rust on your door „
when two friends decide to fake date for publicity and revenge but vow not to catch feelings..
it's messy & emotional & yes... it's also a lot like the song august by taylor.
a/n: last chapter ! i'm so unmotivated to properly finish this so just extremely random ending ! :)
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anastasia
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liked by 2,838,921 others anastasia goodNight ! 💤💓💭 in this photo: tchalamet
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Timothée rolled into bed next to Stassie, chucking his shirt to her. When they were getting ready to sleep, he had accidentally spilled mouthwash down her shirt. And it had been her last one, seeing as she has been staying at his apartment for longer than expected.
She pulled it over her chest, sinking back into the comfort of the blankets, pillows and duvets. Timmy laid his head on her chest, switching on a movie. They weren't paying attention, just let it play in the background.
"I can't believe you spilled mouthwash on me," she complained, running her hands through his hair. He let out a breathy sigh at the feeling, his face displaying enjoyment.
"I'm sorry," he mumbled. "But please keep doing that."
"You like?" she asked, massaging her hands some more, her nails digging into his scalp. He nodded, digging his head further into her chest, quiet moans muffled by his shirt that she wore.
Her eyes flicked to the movie, not sure which he switched on. The face of her mother showed on screen and she sat up, shocked. Sometimes she forgot her mother was a famous actor.
"It's mom," Stassie said to Timothée, explaining the sudden movement. "Didn't know you picked a movie with her in."
He lifted his head, looking at the TV. "I just switched on that Murder Mystery movie with Jen and Adam Sandler."
Her stomach fluttered at the way he called her mom Jen. They were friends clearly. The relationship between a boyfriend and a girlfriend's mother should be a good one — it's what keeps the relationship secure.
"I wanna sleep now," Timothée mumbled, switching it off and going up to the pillow. Stassie dropped her head on the pillow opposite to his, twirling his hair around her finger.
"You're pretty," she said, her eyes drooping a little. Things began to be fuzzy in her brain as she got sleepier. "One day, I'm going to marry you and kiss your pretty face with all our friends being there."
"You're gonna marry me?" he asked, raising his brows. "Do I get a say?"
"No. I'm just going to do it."
"Well, if you care about my say, then I agree. We're going to get married in the most beautiful place and wear beautiful clothes, of course matching. And I'm going to say stupid vows and we'll kiss and after the wedding is over, we go to the hotel and I'm going to make love to you all fucking night so you can't walk the next morning."
Stassie giggled quietly, still twirling his hair. "I like that idea. But how am I going to walk to the airport for our Honeymoon the next day?"
"I'll carry you to the car, let you piggyback me to the plane and hopefully when we land, you'll be all better."
"Hm. Good plan."
"No, actually, change of plans. I'm going to fuck you on the plane, too."
Stassie's ears went pink and her face flushed, biting her lip.
"I can't wait. Just marry me tomorrow."
He brought her into his arms, mumbling sweet words against her head.
"We've been through shit. We deserve our happy ever after," he said. "I just hope one day the fame fades out. As much as I like it, I can't imagine having it forever."
Stassie hummed in agreement, her eyes drooping from how tired she was.
"Goodnight, my angel," she said, running her hand over his jaw.
