Timothée Chalamet imagines

#1- the confession

"are you crazy?" I yell as I rush down the stairs.
"Yeah, maybe I am!" Timothée yells back, chasing after me, down the steps, into the rain, onto the street.
What started as a fun night at the Dune premier, was now a total disaster.
"What is your problem?" I quickly whip around to face him. His black suit and dark hair now drenched in rain water.
"What's my problem? What's your problem? You're the one over there flirting and giggling with some douchebag that you don't even know!"
"I was having fun! Is that not allowed?" I'm fuming now, how could he possibly be angry with me, I have done nothing wrong.
"Yeah? Well while you were 'having fun' you're little friend was basically undressing you with his eyes! I can't believe you are so blind to think that he wasn't just trying to get into your pants!"
I was shocked. Hurt. Yeah, I was hurt. He genuinely thinks that he was only talking to me, just to take me home.
"Oh? Is that all it was! No, someone can't possibly be actually interested in me, they have to be trying to sleep with me! Is that all I am worth, Timothée? A guy couldn't possibly want to get to know me or want to be my friend!"
"That's not what I meant at all! I'm just saying, he was staring at your ass and your boobs and I didn't like it! I could tell what his intentions were and I didn't like them! I was trying protecting you!"
"Protect me? Why does it matter to you so much?"
"Because I'm fucking in love with you!"
Timothée runs his fingers through his hair, staring up at the sky, still pouring rain. He lets out an exasperated sigh and blinks back the drops caught in his eyes.
"You-you what?"
He rubs his hands down his face and furrows his eyebrows.
"I-i'm sorry I shouldn't have said that and now it's gonna be weird. I shouldn't have said anything about you with that guy, I get it, it's just-"
"What did you say, Timothée?"
I step closer and strangely enough, I think I see real tears, his eyes are a bit red.
"I'm in love with you... Truly, I've never met someone like you-"
"No."
"What?"
"I said no. No you are not in love with me. You may think you are but I assure you, you're not."
I move my hair away from my face and cross my arms over my stomach, it's getting cold.
"I am. I love you, y/n and I think I always have, a little part of me has always known and I was just scared to admit it but I'm here now and I can't go on without you anymore-"
"Stop it, Timmy. Please please stop it."
"I won't stop loving you. I don't think I can stop loving you, you are everything and I-"
"Timmy. Don't."
"Please give me a shot, I know I'm not even half good enough and I know that I don't deserve even an ounce of you-"
"Timothée!"
He stops finally. His breath is coming in tiny puffs through his nose and his chest is moving up and down everytime.
"Please please please stop it."
I can hardly hear anything, we've basically been shouting over the downpour the whole time but for some reason only now does it seem to effect my hearing.
"Listen to me, Timmy. You may think you love me, or this idea of me. But believe me when I tell you that you don't. You know only what I want you to know and if I let myself love you, I'll end up hurt. You'll see the sides of me that I don't like, the sides of me that nobody likes. There are things about me that... That are unloveable and I don't wanna risk it and end up losing you because- because I can't lose you. I can't live without you and..."
I'm crying. I choke up at the last moment.
Before I can get out my last sentence I feel his hands grab each side of my face and then I feel his lips. Warm against the freezing rain and wet from the water and tears that are in both of our eyes. I want this. I do. But I can't risk losing him. But I let him kiss me, I kiss back, I allow myself to fall and my hands tangle in his soaking hair. He's breathing into me and I like it, he moans gently when I tug at his roots, this is wrong.
He pulls away. He's sporting a small grin as he looks at me. He takes a strand of my hair and tucks it behind my ear.
"I want all of you. Everything you have. I love you, every single part of you. The good, the bad, the quiet, the loud, the peaceful, and the obnoxious parts. I want it all, can't you see that? I love every little thing. I love how you snore when you sleep, I love how easily you get distracted and how often you get lost in your daydreams. I love when you talk, when you ramble about pointless stuff, but I could listen to you for hours. I love the way you fidget with things when you're nervous, I love in interviews when you play with my hands because there are too many people. I love how poetic you are and what a complete and utter hopeless romantic you are. I love when you talk to me about your books, you think you're being annoying but you're not! You are my person, in every way, I believe you are my soulmate. You are my best friend and I could spend every waking moment with you and never get tired of it. There is nothing about you I don't love, and yes, you are right. There are things about you that I don't know but I want them all, I want to know everything. I want all of you, y/n and I promise to love all of you, I just need you to let me...please..."
I can't help it, I'm crying, bawling actually. Every insecurity I have ever had seems to disappear for a moment.
His hands are still on my cheeks and his thumb rubs up and down my cheekbones and down my chin to my lips. He traces them softly.
I rest my hand on top of his and I lean into his palm.
"I love you too. I am in love with you Timothée Chalamet."
"Oh thank the Lord, I really didn't want that speech to go to waste!"
I can't help but laugh and he does too, a beautiful sound. He pulls me in again and we're kissing, but this kiss is different. This kiss is filled with desire, passion, want, need.

Part 2? 😏