Timothée Chalamet Imagines

-Insensitive-

Timothée is kind of a dick in this story, ngl.

-

Throwing up in the morning, skipping my period, crabbiness and painful boobs; if I wasn't pregnant it was going to be a miracle.

Even though I was 23, in a steady relationship and living together with him, we both weren't ready to start a family.

I'd told Timothée about my current status and he'd insisted on getting me tested. We hadn't really talked about it, but it seemed pretty clear he wouldn't be happy if I was pregnant. Yeah, it was a little inconvenient with both our careers as actors, but to completely turn away from the idea was a little exaggerated.

''If you're pregnant, you're going to abort it, Y/N.''

''Wow, thank you for being so sensitive.'' I responded sarcastically, making him roll his eyes.

''We're not ready to be parents and I quite frankly don't want kids with you either.'' He was literally making things only worse for himself.

''Let's not jump to conclusions when we don't even know for sure yet.'' I tried to be rational about his comments, but my blood was boiling inside me and if he'd even go as far as to pester me more, I was pretty sure I was going to explode.

''Just take the damn test.'' He muttered. I disappeared into the bathroom with a frustrated huff and took the test. It took a few minutes, but when the test came out negative I was relieved and disappointed at the same time. It was weird because I was showing all these signs but I wasn't pregnant. I decided I should go to the doctor to make sure.

''And?''

''Negative. Don't worry, your life won't be ruined.'' I'd thrown the stick agressively in the bin and exited the bathroom, pushing Timothée aside to get my phone and make an appointment with the doctor.

''C'mon, don't act as if you're not happy about it. We both know you don't make a good mother right now.'' That was it. I've had enough of his insults. He'd acted like this towards me before and normally I could always keep calm, but his rudeness got the best of me and I was about ready to actually fight him.

''Fuck you, Timothée. What the hell is wrong with you? Why would you even say such things?!'' Tears brimmed in my eyes, especially because of his comment about me not being a good mother. He was about to respond when I cut him off.

''You know what, I don't even want to hear it. Nice to know how you think of me.'' I furiously stormed off and threw the door of our bed room in his face with more force than I would've wanted.

I needed to get out of the house; it felt like I was suffocating, his words haunting my every move.

We both know you don't make a good mother right now. You're going to abort it, Y/N. I don't want kids with you either.