timothee chalamet imagines!

more, please!

timothée takes care of the reader while they're drunk
genre; fluff
words; 252
warnings; none?

normally, it'd be you taking care of timothée when he got a little too drunk but tonight, things were different. timothée was sat in his bathroom, holding your hair back as you threw up into the toilet.

you sat against the wall once you were through vomiting, panting slightly. "could you get my cup?" you asked timothée, referring to the red solo cup that was filled with vodka. "please?"

timothée shook his head, pushing a strand of your hair behind your ear. "no can do. you've drunk enough."

you also shook your head, "no, no. see, i'm not drunk enough yet." you told him which made him roll his eyes and let out a chuckle.

"so, i'd like more please." you added. he was laughing but you were as serious as a heart attack. "what's so funny?" you asked, tilting your head.

"you, now, please, pajamas and then bed." he motioned towards the bedroom. "and brush your teeth, vomit breath."

you whined at his order, shaking your head. "but my cupppp," you murmured.

"tomorrow when you aren't wasted maybe you can have a sip." he tried to negotiate even though he knew when he got the chance, the alcohol was going down the drain.

"alright, timmy." you said softly, leaning over to kiss him.

"like i said, brush your teeth, vomit breath." timothée teased, turning his head so you couldn't place your lips onto his.

"oh, fuck you."