NSFW Timothée Chalamet One Shots

Pocket Pussy

Warnings - sex toys, frustration. Build up, coming from nipple stim only, cumming fast, no refractory period, mentioning baby trapping, cream pie, cock warming, feeding partner, lingerie,sucking on fingers

I giddily accepted the package from the mailman that my girlfriend had sent me. She always sent me the sweetest care packages. I was dying to know what was in this one. The cards always had a lipstick kiss and a spray of her perfume. It was a bit embarrassing, but I always slept with the cards beside me so I could smell her as I fell asleep.

I bounced back into my hotel room, and onto my bed. I felt anxious in a good way. She was always so adorable and her presents......oh. This wasn't cute, or lovely, or adorable, this was down right dirty.

The note said, "been so needy for you lately. I had this specially molded after mine. It won't be perfect, but it's something. Don't prefer her over me ;). From your loving girlfriend, y/n."

It was a pocket pussy. I could hardly breathe. Molded after hers? I could feel her again? I shuddered. I hadn't let myself thinking about having her again so soon.

I took off my pants slowly, eyes never leaving the toy. I was biting my lip, feeling almost afraid. She had really hit a home run with this one, fuck, molded after hers, fucking hell.

Soon, I was lining up and slipping in. A small sigh of relief left my mouth, it did feel a bit familiar, but not perfect, like her.

Over the next few months I grew all the more frustrated. It was like having a tune stuck in your head, but not remembering the words. It was like getting your favorite food at a restaurant, only for it to be over or undercooked. It was like the day before something you'd been waiting for, for a long time. It was almost there, nearly, but it wasn't her. I almost broke the toy in frustration several times, but I knew I'd never forgive myself if I did that, almost her, was better than no her. I was using it multiple times a day, just hoping to have one orgasm that compared to the ones she provided for me. It wasn't happening.

I thought it couldn't get worse, until she messaged me something awful a week before I was meant to come home to here.

"Can I tell you a secret?"

"Of course Mon Amor💖"

"Remember that toy I made you?"

"How could I forget? 🥵🤤"

"Well, I got curious and had one made for me, based off u. And ummm it's been like beautiful torture. Having nearly you, but not quite is killing me. I'm counting down the hours until you're home my love💖💖💖💖💖"

"........"

"What did I gross u out?"

"No, baby you killed me. I'm dying. Why would you tell me that????? This is torture, I can't cope!!!"

"Xoxoxo, good to know you feel the same."

A/N - switching POVs

It was finally the day. He was coming home. I was trying hard to lower my expectations. He would be tired, he would be jet lagged, he would probably feel like a gross airport. He wouldn't want sex, as much as I needed him, he came first. However, just in case he did, I'd bought new lingerie and put it on under my old, unassuming, fluffy, blue, bathrobe.

I'd cleaned the house and prepared his favorite meal in anticipation. I knew he didn't really care about a clean house, but it might be subconsciously calming. I'd also bought him roses and his favorite chocolates. I just couldn't help spoiling him, his reactions were always so cute.

"I'm home!" The door banged open. In seconds his bags were on the floor and he was racing to me. His kisses were bruising as we wildly made out.

"Fuck, this feels so good," he moaned.