Forbidden Fruit •Timothee Chalamet (Stepbrother)

58.Ours

(Warning:smut,sexual content.)

☆.｡.:*

I stand outside the dressing room,waiting patiently as Timothée tries suits on Fifth Avenue.It feels a little strange, doing these adult and domestic activities together,but I can't deny how much I'm loving it.

"Do you like it?" Timothée asks as he steps out of the dressing room, looking like a vision in his suit. My eyes roam his body in admiration, power and wealth complimenting his appearance perfectly.

"Yes, it looks great.You look like Christian Bale in American Psycho." I giggle as I approach him, letting my fingers wander up his arms.

"So you think I look like a serial killer?" Timothée says with a playful frown on his face.

"No, I just mean the way his character dresses in the movie." I laugh, and he gives me a lighthearted glare, a tiny bit of jealousy in his eyes. "You always had a crush on Christian Bale in that movie, Amelia." He accuses with a pout on his face.

"Jesus, Timothée! You're so jealous." I chuckle and lightly smack his arm. "He was a fictional character." I exclaim, rolling my eyes at his excessive jealousy.

He pulls me closer to him by my lower back, "I get jealous because I love you." Timothée's voice carries a touch of possessiveness,Then his lips meet mine, the kiss becoming deeper and needier with each passing moment.I push away, breaking away from the kiss as I try to regain my composure and catch my breath.

"Okay, no more." I state firmly, pushing him off as gently as I can. He looks at me slightly bewildered.

"If you keep kissing me like that, I'll end up pushing you in that dressing room and fucking you,right there."I confess bluntly.

Timothée's eyes widen, and a sly smile forms on his face," I wouldn't object to that." He replies and I push him back into the dressing room as we both laugh.

He quickly walks back out,holding up the new suits he's chosen.

He approaches me as I sit in a chair, his gaze locking with mine. "Are you coming with me to the undergrounds tonight?" Timothée asks casually, like it's a given that I'll be there.

"Yeah, I should start coming to the undergrounds now that we're-" I pause, unsure of what to call our relationship. He's my boyfriend, but the depth of our relationship feels deeper than just that label.

Timothée watches me,sensing my internal struggle. "I don't know what to call us." I confess. "I'm your girlfriend....Your main mistress.." I begin to ramble, but he gently interrupts me.

"No." Timothée says, his eyes glowing with pure love. "You're everything." He says,as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. "You're my everything." He says firmly,signaling that I should have known this by now. I feel flushed at the sweetness of his words.

"I'm glad you're coming with me tonight," Timothée says, gently pulling me up from the chair. "I'll make sure everyone understands your importance to me." He glances down at his watch. "We need to make a couple stops before heading to the undergrounds though."

"Where?" I ask curiously. "Just have to take care a couple of things." He says as he grabs my hand and we approach the register.

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The driver pulls up to Timothée's penthouse, and his hand finds its way to my thigh. "Come upstairs with me." He says,his voice steady.

"But Grace will be there." I remind him,puzzled.