Long Timothee Chalamet Stories

Our Style (P5)

Info - cheating, hangover, toxic relationship, argument, leading someone on, rejection, workplace relationship, firing

"So I'm a disgrace to actors everywhere," he said the next morning when he sat beside me on the couch. I handed him his breakfast without looking at him because he was shirtless and I would be mesmerized if I chanced it.

"Thanks, this looks perfect," he said and began to scarf down the food, no doubt hungover.

"You're an amazing friend," he said over the sausage I'd made.

"Are we friends?" I asked casually, flipping through channels, nervous nothing would be good enough for him.

"Course we are," he said, and placed a hand on mine when I landed on a soccer game. I dropped the remote instantly.

"You seem nervous," he said gently and placed his plate on the coffee table.

"I am," I said, but knew I'd need to lie about why. "Your girlfriend has to be pissed as hell."

"Weirdly yes, even though she's thinking about ending it, fuck, my brain feels so weird, and not just because of the alcohol."

"You're not making me less nervous," I chuckled. He finally flashed me a smile.

"Sorry about that," he said, and took my hands in his.

"You are so sweet," he said, and leaned in. I froze as his lips grazed my cheek.

"Fuck your skin is soft," he said in a nearly inaudible whisper. I was nearly shaking, as his lips lingered by my cheek so I could feel his breath on my face.

"Can't really help," he mumbled oddly, and then his lips were moving. They pressed again, further down.

"You're just so nice to me," he mumbled again, and kissed the corner of my mouth. I couldn't breathe, because I knew if I did it would come out in pants and give away my feelings.

"Wouldn't be so bad-" and then he was kissing me. It was soft at first and I didn't know how to respond. Then he was like a wild animal. He tackled me down and was kissing me feverishly, and if he didn't know where he was, or that he had a girlfriend, all he knew were my lips.

"So good," he said between kisses. He sounded overwhelmed, as if he'd been waiting for this, and he couldn't believe how it matched expectations or perhaps exceeded. Finally, I unfroze. My hands were feeling his bare back, then in his hair, then coming around to play with his nipples. He was breathing fast and heavy.

"So soft, I can't, so good, not mean," he was saying as he wildly kissed me. He was caressing my hair, then my face, then his hands travelled down and I could've lost all self control when I felt his large hands against the skin of my stomach.

"You want me don't you?" He said, but I could tell he didn't expect an answer, but I couldn't help it.

"Yessss," I hissed as he licked my throat.

"Not like her, you actually want-" it was those words that broke him out of his trance. He got off me immediately. I knew he was absorbing the words I'd just uttered.

"I'm sorry," he breathed. He looked like a dream. Shirtless, pants low on his hips from my grabbing hands. His hair was mussed, lips swollen from the intense kissing, and his nipples peaked with desire. His chest rose and fell fast, he was gasping for air.

"Timothée," I said carefully.

"Sorry, I'm such an ass, you were so nice and I, fuck I'm sorry," he said and ran to grab his shirt. I wanted him so badly in that moment I could swear my body had been set alight.

"You don't know what you do to me," I said in a hushed tone.

"No, no, don't say that. This was a mistake," he said.

"I don't know what to say," I began.

"Say I'm right, say I don't have to fire you. Say it meant nothing," he said worriedly.

"Fire me?" I asked in a daze. "Why would you fire me?"

"Because it seems like you having feelings for me, and you're my employee."

"Employee," the word sounded so foreign on my tongue. "You said friend."

"A friend that truly can't say it's okay that you have feelings for. I'm your boss, and I'm going to have to let you go."

"So we can be together right. You don't want to fool around and endanger our work?" I asked, eagerly moving towards him.

"Huh? No, y/n, I'm in a relationship," he said in confusion. Now I was confused. He'd been the one to kiss me. He told me how bad things were. He was mumbling on and on about how badly he needed to kiss me.

"Then why did you kiss me?" I demanded harshly.

"A-A moment of weakness. I'm not used to such kind-"

"Exactly why we should be together! I can't treat you kindly. It's not fair that you are not used to it!"

"I want Aly," he said desperately. The nickname from his lips made me breathless.

"Aly, not you," he said softly.

"You fucking led me on! Mind mates, perfect hands for rings, buying me jewelry, taking me as your date to an awards show, giving me the best damn kiss of my fucking life?"

"I'm sorry," he said.

"Shooting me would've been kinder," I snarled. He seemed taken aback, like he hadn't realized I cared THAT much.

"Don't come into work tomorrow, it's for your own good-"

"Oh spare me the fake care," I snapped.

"I'm gonna go," he said.

"Good!" I screamed. He left and I crumpled to the floor.