timothée chalamet imagines

us three and some tea

request by: @whyalissa. I hope you like it :)

your pov

"Here we go." I say putting my three month old son down in his crib.

I had just finished feeding him about twenty minutes ago and now he was falling asleep.

After feeding, he always naps for about an hour before waking up to eat again or to have his diaper changed.

I looked down at him smiling as he tried keeping his eyes open. The second they closed, Timothée knocked softly on the door.

"Is he down already?" he asked.

"Yeah."

He motioned his hand to go walk to him.

"Let's relax." he said wrapping his arm around around my waist.

We walked into our kitchen where there was a boiling pot of water on the stove.

"I made us some tea." he said.

I watched him pour the hot water into two mugs, already set with tea bags inside of them.

He handed me my mug. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." he smiled.

I took a small sip, trying to not burn my tongue.

"Do you want to go outside?" he asked.

"Sure." I said grabbing my mug in one hand and the baby monitor we always kept in the kitchen in the other.

We walked out to our balcony. The crisp autumn air brushed over our faces.

It was very foggy out. All that could be seen were the tops of the trees whose leaves were falling and turning into shades of red, yellow, orange, and brown.

This is exactly what I consider to be the perfect kind of weather.

Timothée grabbed the baby monitor and put it on the side table we had out here.

He sat down in our hammock, careful to not spill the tea onto himself.

"Come here."

I walked over and sat down slowly, keeping a sturdy grip on the handle of my mug.

He wrapped one arm around my shoulder and kissed my cheek.

"This is nice." I said taking another sip.

"It is."

We sat in silence, staring out to the thick layer of smokey clouds. Nothing was visible through them. It was just, grey.

We drank our delicious tea and finished it at the same time. We put our mugs on the floor.

I peered over to the baby monitor, checking on y/s/n. He was still asleep, looking as cute as ever.

"Lay down with me." Timothée said.

I stood up and he laid down. I laid down between his legs, resting my back against his chest comfortably.

His arms wrapped around me from behind, his hands sitting on top my still present bump.

That's the thing about having a baby: you give birth and the bump doesn't just go away in a single snap.

You have to work hard to get rid of it.

A lot of women do that quickly. Mostly because of the fear that their partner won't want them anymore if they don't get back the body they had before getting pregnant.

I want to take my time. Timothée doesn't care about what I look like at all. With or without a bump, he still loves me. With out without extra weight, I'm still perfect in his eyes.

I held one of his hands up and pressed kisses to the back of it. He rested his chin on the top of my head.

We swayed back and forth in the hammock.

I closed my eyes and breathed in all nature had to offer at this point in time.

"You okay?" he asked.

"Yes, why wouldn't I be?" I asked, already fighting the urge to fall asleep.

"Because of y/s/n. I know it's hard having to wake up to feed him for so long and staying up late with him until he falls back asleep."

"Yeah," I said playing with his fingers "it is."

"What can I help you with?" I asked.

"Nothing, you don't have to worry."

"Yes, I do. He's our son, and you're my wife. Anything and everything either of you need, I'll provide you with. You never have to ask, just tell me."

"Thank you." I said and turned my head back to look up at him.

He pressed some more soft kisses to my lips and put his arms around me once again.

No one else but Timothée has made me feel the way that I do.

No other place in the world could possibly be any better than our home. No other place compares to when I'm here with him.

As I closed my eyes, the baby monitor beeped, detecting movement. Crying came from the speakers.

"I'll go." I said moving to sit up.

"No, let me."

Should I? No.

Yes? I'm so tired.

If I don't go, I'll feel "mother's guilt."

But I miss my baby boy so much already, I want to see him.

"How about we go together?" I suggested.

"Okay." he nodded.

We got off of the hammock and walked back into our house and into our son's room.

Timothée raced over to pick him up, holding him close to his chest. His crying calmed down instantly as Timothée began to sway back and forth.

My eyes began to water at the sight and tears dripped down my face.

"Everything okay?" he asked.

There he goes again, always checking on me.

"Yeah." I wiped my tears away.

I walked over to them, wrapping my arms around Timothée's waist and pressing a kiss to the side of his arm.

"I love you two so much." I said.

"We love you more."