timothée chalamet imagines

club

your pov

I dipped the wash cloth into the bowl of cold water and pressed it to his cheek, causing him to hiss in pain.

"Sorry," I whispered "it's going to sting a little."

flashback

"Y/n!" I yelled.

"James!" the stranger yelled back over the blaring music, shaking my hand.

"Who are you here with?" I asked.

"Some friends, you?"

"My boyfriend." I said as he nodded and we sipped our drinks.

"Do you want to go outside?" James asked "I could use some fresh air."

"Sure." I left money for my drink and we exited out the back doors of the club.

"Finally." he sighed, taking in the cool air of the night.

"Clubbing isn't your thing, I'm assuming?"

"Definitely not, my friends insisted I come."

"My boyfriend did the same."

He reached into his pocket, taking out a pack of cigarettes. "Smoke?"

"No thanks." I shook my head.

"You don't mind, do you? I won't smoke if you do."

"No, it's fine, go ahead."

He proceeded to light the cigarette and we made small talk. Just about the most random things.

He was in the middle of telling me the funniest story about one of his college roommates when the doors burst open.

"Y/n!" Timothée yelled "I've been looking for you everywhere." he walked over to me.

"I'm sorry, I had to get some air, I'm fine."

"Who's this?" he turned to James.

"That's James. James this is my boyfriend, Timothée."

Timothée clenched his jaw. "Were you hitting on my girlfriend? Huh?"

"No, no," he put out the cigarette "I sat with her at the bar and we just came out to get some air."

"At the bar?" he looked at me and stepped closer to James "were you trying to get her drunk so you could take her home with you? Is that it?"

"Of course not, she told me she was here with you. We were just talking, I swear."

"He didn't do anything." I said.

Timothée stepped closer to him, inches away from touching chests. "Let's go home, I'm tired, please." I stood next to him.

"Don't tell me what to do." Timothée said, his breath wreaking of alcohol. He pushed me aside slightly, making me stumble over my heels.

"What the fuck is your problem?." James yelled, pushing Timothée's shoulders roughly.

"You're my fucking problem, you were trying to hit on my girlfriend."

"Timothée!" I yelled just as he threw a punch at James' face.

Fists began to fly. "STOP IT!" I screamed after I managed to pull Timothée away by his shirt after a few minutes.

He looked at me in anger, then in regret when he realized what he had done and how I reacted.

"What is wrong with you?!" my voice broke as tears rushed my face.

end of flashback

"I'm sorry," he mumbled as I pressed the washcloth to his upper left cheek "I didn't mean to push you, or fight, I don't know what came
over me. I'm sorry."

"Just forget about it and don't let it happen again, okay?"

"I'm not going to forget y/n."

"Just don't bring it up anymore..." I sniffled.

"Please don't cry."

I set the washcloth down and covered my face in my hands as I finally cried. His hands grabbed mine and he uncovered my face.

"I'm so sorry." he whispered, a clear look of disappointment on his face.

"What were you thinking?"

"I don't know," he shook his head "about too much, about nothing. I just didn't like seeing you with another guy."

"Because you thought I was cheating on you?"

"No," he said sternly "I got jealous. I didn't know what that guy was doing, or planning to do to you, I just wanted to protect you."

"I'm a grown woman, Timothée, as much as I appreciate you wanting to protect me, I can protect myself. I would have never even talked to him if I thought he'd do something to me, let alone gone outside with him."

"But you know I'd do anything to keep you safe. I swear if something ever happened to you because of me, I'd die."

"I know you would, but that doesn't mean you can just go and beat a stranger to the ground."

He nodded and looked back down at his lap. I grabbed his chin and made him look at me.

"Promise you won't beat strangers to the ground anymore? Even if you're jealous?"

"Promise." he nodded.

"I love you." I said.

"I love you too." his voice rasped and he kissed me.

I grabbed the washcloth again, wiping over the scrapes he got from the sidewalk.

"On the plus side, these cuts and scrapes make you look hot." I said and we both laughed.

I'm still not over the Edgar Scissorhands super bowl commercial!! I really want a movie abt him :)