MiniSeries About Timothee Chalamet

Obsessed P1

Warning - stalking. Masturbation, stealing underwear, breaking and entering, tracking, sex, sex in public, trying to baby trap someone, sex in an alley, unprotected sex, lying about birth control, internet stalking, cumming in boxers, nearly getting caught, putting someone on a pedestal

He was entirely too alluring for his own good. I think he knew it too. The way he moved his hands, the right pants revealing the killer cock he had going for him, as if he'd need it to reel anyone in.

There was no way I was living the rest of my life without him. Breaking into his apartment was easy. Finding stained boxers was harder. When I finally did get them, I was nearly caught because I couldn't resist touching myself right on his bed. Since then, that fabric of those boxers were the only thing that touched my clit, my fingers were mediocre.

I'd thanked god when I saw he scheduled out his days on paper, what an old soul. Friday he'd be at a bar downtown, and guess what? I'd be there too. Would he remember me from the few times I'd been his waitress, out with his friends, rowdy and joking. He stood out even the, you're so much better than them Timothée, such a pure soul. Why did you sell yourself short with your company. The things you could do if you only got enough bravery to jump. I've seen every small theatre performance you've been in and I know a diamond in the rough when I see one. But you're scared, scared you'll be unremarkable, that you'll get one big role and fade into the background. Don't worry my love, I'll help give you the push you need.

I sat at the bar with my drink. I was wearing a replica of an outfit Lily Rose Depp had worn, she seemed to be the female celebrity the frequented your phone's saved images the most.

"Not waitressing tonight?" I heard the voice I loved. I looked up, giving a sultry, slow, grin.

"Who are you?" I asked.

"I've been in Valerie's a couple times, you're always my waitress," he said with a shrug.

"Good memory," I chuckled. "To most people the wait staff don't exist."

"I always remember a face," he chuckled. He didn't, or he'd have recognized me at all his plays, in his neighborhood, and at his work.

"I'm Timothée, by the way," he reached out his hand.

"Y/n," I smiled.

"What are you doing here tonight?" He asked.

"Honestly, trying to get laid," I said. From a man, it might've been vulgar, from a woman it was sexy, and bold.

"I may be able to help with that. You know you're wearing something that looks really close to something Lily Rose Depp wore once," he said, shaking his head as if he couldn't believe the ideas of fate.

"Oh really? I don't even know who that is," I said.

"Johnny Depp's daughter, she's a real hottie," he said.

"So, where's this going down? Bathroom or one of our places?"

"How about the alley?" He asked with a wink.

"I like the way you think Chalamet," I said.

"How did you know my last name was Chalamet?" He asked with an odd tone.

"Your credit card, it has the first and last name. I guess I just internalized it," I said, thinking quickly on my feet.

Once in the alley he was ravishing my lips. Our hands were everywhere on each other. I pulled his hair needily, and swallowed the moan that escalated his mouth. I pulled down my panties as I heard his belt clink. Soon, he was sheathed inside me, and fucking me for all he was worth. He was like a wild animal with his noises and movements, all so erratic, yet pacing a perfect rhythm inside me. He'd been huge as I suspected. No man who had videos on the internet, yes I'd stalked all his content, rapping about being two inches and proud was concerned their cock wasn't big enough.

"You feel so good," he gasped, bringing in lung fulls of air as much as possible, because neither of us could breathe properly from pleasure.

"Your cock is magic," I told him honestly.

"Fuuuuuck, I should've taken you in the restaurant bathroom the moment I saw you, you feel too good to waste.

"Oh, I want to mark you up," I sighed.

"Do it," he begged, placing my hands under his shirt. My nails bit into his skin, and I was rewarded with a high pitched moan.

"Merde, ma Cherie," he cursed. Of course I knew he was part French, but I needed to act surprised.

"Oh, you speak French, that's sooooo sexy," I moaned.

"Yeah, impressed Angel?" He asked.

"Y-yes," I stuttered through the intense pleasure.

"I need to cum, oh can I cum inside you. It'll kill me if I can't release inside you. I need to give you my cum," he begged, hips snapping wildly.

"Inside me! I'm on birth control," I lied, hoping his cum would fill me and breed me so that he could never leave again.

He came inside me dramatically. He was shouting, and rutting into me. He was fucking his cum into me. I shook as my world fell apart. The orgasm was shattering.