Timothée Chalamet One Shots

requited love

Timothée asked to see you because he wanted to "talk", the scariest thing to hear in any relationship. You two had been going steady for almost six months now and it seemed to be going well...to you. Maybe he thought differently?

Reservations for dinner were at 7:30 at a highbrow rooftop restaurant you had never heard of. Was he going to let you down easy after spending $300 on wine? You spent an unnecessary amount of time getting ready, scrapping outfits after they spent thirty seconds on your body. Eventually, time ran out and you had to leave the house before you were late for this mysterious meeting.

Timothée reserved a room in the back which was only odd because he normally didn't care about being seen. The sudden need for privacy felt purposeful.

"Hey, (Y/N)," Timothée said, standing from the table to greet you with a kiss. "You look incredible."

"Thanks."

He cleared his throat with a nervous smile, his hands wringing and feet shuffling. He nodded at the table. "Have a seat," he suggested. "I already ordered some wine but if you want a different one-"

"No, this is great." You hastily sat down and helped yourself to wine and the complimentary bread.

Timothée reached for a bouquet of flowers across the table, a bundle of daisies and peonies and daffodils. You'd never received a parting gift before.

"These are for you," he said.

"They're gorgeous." You hesitantly accepted. "Thank you."

Timothée nodded then pacified himself with a sip of wine.

"So what's all this about?" you asked, shifting uncomfortably in your chair.

"What do you mean?" He looked guilty.

"Suddenly needing to talk in a private room at an expensive restaurant," you explained. The lights of the New York City skyline twinkled from outside the window. "It's just unexpected, that's all."

He toyed with the rings on his fingers in place of a response.

"What did you wanna talk about?"

"It's not a big deal, really," Timothée insisted.

"Then tell me."

He cleared his throat and moved his chair closer to yours, intentional about every single move he made. You braced yourself for the worst.

"Well," he began, "I'm not really sure how to say this. I'm not really good at this romance thing, I don't think."

The dancing around the truth was starting to annoy you. "Timothée, what are you talking about?"

"Okay, okay, look, we've been dating for a while now and-"

"Oh my god, save the speech just get it over with," you said.

"I don't know how to tell you this without an introduction," Timothée answered, his eyes darting anxiously around the room.

"I really don't want an introduction for something like this. It's bad enough that you got me flowers and invited me to a Michelin star restaurant with a cryptic text message," you scoffed. "Just say what you need to say."

A subtle grin crossed his face as he listened to you speak. "I don't think you know what's happening here."

"I don't know, it feels pretty obvious to me," you shrugged.

For some reason, he found this funny. "What are you talking about?"

"You're trying to let me down easy and I appreciate it but—"

"Wait, wait, wait." Timothée laughed as he swallowed a mouthful of wine, waving his hands around in amusement. "You thought I brought you here to...breakup with you?"

You blinked, suddenly feeling extremely embarrassed. "I mean...why else would you...?"

"Oh my god, (Y/N), you worry way too much," he told you. "I'm not dumping you, relax."

"Then what?"

"I wanted to tell you that..." He took a deep breath. "...I'm falling in love with you."

Any air that was left in your lungs completely evaporated. You racked your brain for words to express yourself but could only stammer through sentences.

"I couldn't think of a better way to tell you than to make it a huge thing," he said, gesturing nervously. "Corny, right?"

"No, no, no, that's not corny at all," you exclaimed. "I love it. And I love you. I love you, Timothée."

The warmest, coziest smile spread across his face. "I love you too." He held his hand out from across the table and you accepted it eagerly. "My love."

"God, I can't believe I thought you were gonna dump me, I'm so embarrassed."

"I was being kinda weird about it, I'll admit that," Timothée confessed. "But after six months? You should trust me a little more than that, baby." His thumb smoothed over your knuckles.

"I get in my head sometimes, I'm sorry. Sometimes this all feels too good to be true."

"Oh, same. All the time, same," he responded. "But you've given me zero reasons to leave you. If anything, I'm the one who doesn't wanna mess up. You have nothing to worry about."

"And neither do you. I'm sorry."

"Don't worry about it. Let's just get really drunk, yeah?" He gave both of your wine glasses a generous overpour. "I wanna have a lame moment where we're both super wasted and kissing and saying 'I love you' over and over again so people get pissed off."

"And then someone can post it on DeuxMoi and say they saw us and we looked super in love."

"I fucking love that," Timothée said after swallowing a mouthful of wine. "Only acceptable time to be on DeuxMoi. And it'll be absolutely true."

"Are you getting corny already? Oh my god!"

"Get used to it. I love you, I love you, I love you-"

"Okay, okay!"

"I love you, I love you, I love you..."

****

hi this was in the vault for a really long time and i finished it literally just now. super corny super lame but when inspiration hits u have no choice.

somewhat steamy 2022 oscar's themed one shot coming one of these days. still recovering from that don't know if i'll ever be normal again. thanks for reading mwah