Long Timothee Chalamet Stories

That Damn Bassist (P1)

Warnings - asking for sex, thirsting, refusal for sex

I could not wait to see Cyanide Cylinders. It was my favorite band. Every record was a hit. I'd been to a concert on every tour they'd ever done. This was the Death Blood tour. I couldn't wait to hear their song "Lightening Eyes" in person!

I parked in the absolutely packed parking lot. I was headed towards the stadium when I heard my car alarm. I cursed life as I ran back. No note, a large dent, and a car speeding away. All I could glimpse of the driver was a hand tattoo of a dragon. I lifted my middle finger and decided to worry about it later.

Right now, all I wanted to focus on was the fact that I had V.I.P. Tickets to my favorite band. Calling that radio station was the best thing I'd ever done.

I finally got to my seats and waited patiently. When it started I was up and screaming. I was so close I could see the sweat on their foreheads.

There he was, Timothée, my favorite member, the bassist. His eyes were surrounded with thick eyeliner, his thin frame wore all black, and his dark hair had streaks of red in it. He was walking sex, the most attractive man I'd ever seen. Just watching his fingers move on the strings made me wet. Wait, what was that on his hand. He must've gotten a new tattoo because I knew all of his by heart.

When the concert was over, I was incredibly excited to go backstage. I was shaking with anticipation. As I was walking, I was yanked into a closet. I was face to face with Timothée. Up close his face was even more angelic. He was knee-weakening.

"Hey, so I think I hit your car in the lot," he said sheepishly. I grabbed his hand and observed the dragon tattoo.

"It was you! Do you know how much that's going to cost me?" I demanded.

"Well, I have a way to pay you back," he smirked. He was so hot it nearly hurt, too bad he was being an asshole. "I'll fuck you."

"What!?" I said in disbelief.

"Come on, don't you want it?" He asked, and began to kiss my neck.

"I, uh," I moaned.

"Good girl, no one has ever said no to me," he smirked into my neck. That flipped the switch for me.

"I'm good," I said pulling back. He looked like I'd slapped him. This was better in a way, this was a way to ensure he would never forget me. I was enthralled by the idea of him tossing and turning, laboring over the idea of me.

"I'll take the money," I held my hand out. He was glaring.

"Are you serious?" He snapped.

"Yep," I popped the P. He growled and stuffed some bills in my hand.

"This isn't over," he snarled before leaving.