Long Timothee Chalamet Stories

My Boyfriend's Sister's Boyfriend (P3)

Warnings - abbreviated smut, thoughts of cheating, crying, mentions of alcohol

I felt like I was walking through molasses when I arrived to work on Monday. Not even my students cheery greetings helped. I'd expertly avoided Dillon, and my over bearing mother, the rest of the weekend. I felt hungover, despite having had nothing to drink.

I had hoped lunch would have helped, but it didn't. Now I was corralling the kids to go to gym.

Stepping in to the gym changed everything. There was Timothée, with a coaches whistle, wearing shorts. He had a soccer ball under his arm, and was smiling at my students. Slowly, he looked up and saw me, his mouth dropped open.

He said something to the children and tossed the ball, they ran after it. He jogged over to me, a bright, but stunned smile on his face.

"This feels like fate," he laughed, though there was nothing humorous about it, because it did in fact, feel like fate.

"How are you here?" I asked.

"Apparently, where I worked before is an extension of this place. They promoted me to this branch. I got the email over the weekend. I had no idea this is where you worked."

"Yes, I've been here three years," I told him.

"So do I need to call you Ms. Y/N now?" He asked. I chuckled.

"No, just y/n will do," I said.

"Alright, I've got to go do my job," he winked and ran off to talk to my students.

I took a few moments to admire his interactions with my kids. He'd make a great father one day. I think I wanted four kids with him.... What the Hell was I thinking? He wasn't mine, I wasn't his. I wouldn't be having any kids with him. Why was it so easy for me to slip into the mindset of his partner?

I walked out quickly, headed back to my classroom.

It didn't take long for Timothée to ask if we could take our lunch together, since he didn't know anyone. Against my better judgement, I said yes. The days were bright, and lunch was my favorite time. I loved laughing with him, and getting to know him. It was so wrong, so unkind to our partners, but I wasn't sure I could help it.

"You actually rapped about statistics?" I asked, tears of mirth in my eyes.

"I did indeed," he answered.

"Oh my word, you're even dorkier than I thought," I said, covering my mouth full of giggles.

"You always say that to me," he said in mock frustration.

"Don't worry, I have thing for dorks," I said, nudging his shoulder.

"Yeah?" He asked, eyebrows raised. It was so easy to flirt with him that I sometimes forgot it was wrong.

"Yeah, you met Dillon, he's a total computer dork," I shrugged. It was a harsh reminder we both needed. Although, Timothée looked so downcast that I had to amend my statement.

"He isn't nice about it like you though," I said in a low voice.

"What do you mean?" Timothée whirled to me, a protective glint in his eye.

"I just mean, he can kinda demean you if you don't know what he knows," I explained. Timothée still looked concerned, but didn't say anything else.

"I got tickets for your performance on Friday," I said, to change the subject.

"That's awesome!" He said, beaming me the smile that made my heart do backflips.

That day we had to stay late for a teachers meeting. Timothée insisted he walk me to my car, since it was dark. We were walking slowly, stretching out the time we had together. We stopped by my car, the wind blowing both of our hair. We were just staring at one another, the tension thick enough to slice.

"Why does it feel like I've known you all my life?" Timothée asked in a weak voice.

"I don't know, but I feel the same," I told him honestly. I couldn't lie to him.

He moved in closer, my heart was pounding, but I wasn't stopping him. He leaned ever closer. I could feel his warm breath. Our lips were now only inches apart. He wouldn't move any more, it was up to me.

"We can't," I whispered, and my top lip grazed his ever so slightly. He licked his lips.

"I know," he said. "Let's just imagine. It's a different time, we know different people. This is the end of our first date. You're about to leave, but not before I kiss you."

I shuddered at the picture he painted. I actually felt tears prick my eyes.

"And I let you kiss me," I continued for him. "And it is the best kiss either of us has ever had. We grin like idiots the whole way back to our places. I text you immediately when I get home, and you don't think that's weird."

"And I ask you out for the next day, too eager to see you again," he said, voice cracking. He was tearing up as well.

"And we go on another date, and another and another, until," I sucked in his breath, wanting to have something that came from him.

"Until..." he trailed off. I wrenched back suddenly. I saw Timothée's teary eyes and felt my heart crack.

"I have to go!" I said, and quickly got in my car.

The close call had me speeding. I was mopping frustrated tears from my eyes. How could I fix this?

Maybe I just was very attracted to him. Maybe I wanted to fuck him and that was the problem. Once I'd had him, it'd be out of my system.

I was racing to Dillons place. I needed to reaffirm our relationship. I needed to not feel so guilt ridden.

I knew his house code and I barged in, looking for him.

"Y/N what are you doing here?" He demanded. Like a frantic, madman, I ran to him and kissed him.

Soon his condom was on, and he was inside me. He often didn't bother with much foreplay. I had my eyes closed completely as he fucked me.

I was thinking of brown curls, green eyes, and pink lips. What would it be like to hear him moan? What would it be like to let him devour me the way he so clearly wanted to? How deep would his cock sink inside me?

"Timothée," I moaned. All the motion above me stopped completely. Panic washed over me as I opened my eyes.

"What the fuck did you just say?"