NSFW Timothée Chalamet One Shots

Hot and Cold

Warnings - Smut, oral (male and female receiving), ice play, unprotected sex, degrading talk, dirty talk, sub male, begging, mentions of masturbation, sitting on face

My roommate, Timothée, had started doing something horrible. It was bad enough that he sometimes walked around in his boxers, I couldn't take much more of this. My crush on him had been growing steadily.

He had started jogging. When he came back, he was in tight clothing, with messy, damp, hair, and sweat dripping down him. It was a glorious, tempting, sight. I would watch him avidly as he grabbed a water bottle and downed it in one go. His Adam's apple would bob, making me want to suck on his throat. Some of the water would spill from his mouth and trickle down to mix with the beads of sweat.

I never wanted him as much as I did after his run. I'd always return to my room to masturbate to the thought of him. It took all my strength not to pounce on him.

I was reading a book in the living room. I was content, knowing it was Saturday, and Timmy didn't jog on Saturdays. He generally went to parties on Friday nights, so he slept in on Saturdays.

A bang sounded as someone slammed open the door. I looked in horror to see that Timothée had gone for a run. I hadn't heard him leave, fuck!

He came in, shaking his hair out of his face. He was headed to the kitchen. As if in a trance, I followed him. He was pulling out a mug, pouring ice chips in it. He took a few in his mouth and sucked. It was the sucking that broke me.

"Can you stop that?" I demanded. He looked at me in shock and confusion. I didn't usually talk like this.

"I'm hot," he lisped, over the ice.

I grabbed his hand in a firm grip. I was barreling down the hall, with him in tow. He was asking questions, but I gave no answers. Once I had him in my room, I rifled through my drawers.

"What is going on?"

"Do you have any idea, what you do to me?" I asked him. He still looked confused, and shook his head slowly.

"Are you mad about something?" He asked. "Did I leave the toilet seat up again?"

"This is what you to do me," I said, and waved my vibrator in his face. I clicked the button over and over, but nothing happened because it was out of charge from over use.

"I don't think I understand," he said, he was still confused, but now his cheeks were bright pink.

"This," I said as I snatched the ice cup from his hand and put it on the table. I stuck the hand I held, down into my panties, where I was soaked. "Is what you do to me."

"Oh, fuck," he said as he felt my wetness.

"Understand now?" I asked.

"Y-yeah, I do," he stuttered, hands moving from out of my panties. His fingers were covered in slick.

"You have no idea the things I want to do to you," I murmured to him as I looked into his eyes.

"Do them," he replied.

I was instantly pushing him onto the bed. I kissed him with a nearly bruising force. He was eager to return the passion. My hands ran down the tight running outfit he was wearing, moving to his crotch. I rubbed him over his pants. He gasped into the kiss. I loved the sound.

"Take off your clothes," I ordered. He did what I asked, peeling off the articles, until he was just in his boxers.

"You look like a dream," I said, and then I noticed the ice cup still on my bedside table.