Timothèe Chalamet Imagines

✻stretch marks✻

MATURE

Your POV

I stare in our bathroom mirror with frustration. I knew my body would change when I got pregnant, but these stretch marks are only getting darker and worse. They're all over my stomach now and it's starting to get to me. My crazy hormones make me unexpectedly critical of myself, and I'm just not used to it.

I shove my shirt down over my bump, sigh, and walk back into our bedroom. I flop on our bed, grab my book, and start reading. I get lost in the pages for over an hour, and snap out of it when I hear our front door swing open. Timmy is home. I hoist myself out of bed and walk downstairs.

"Hey," I say, smiling and walking towards him.

"Hey. How are you feeling?" he asks, pulling me into a gentle hug. My pregnancy has been pretty rough, but he's been there for me through the whole thing.

"Fine. Today it's just cramps bothering me," I tell him.

He pouts his lip. I love it when he does that.

"I'm sorry. I wish I could take it away from you for just one second," he says, rubbing my belly over my shirt. "You know, there are things we can do for the cramps..." he says with a smirk.

I roll my eyes.

"I will not have sex with you while our child is inside of me!" I tell him, shoving him playfully. It's true, it weirds me out to have him touch me right now, but I've also just avoided letting him see my body at all. It's stupid, and I'm not scared that he'll leave me or something, but I'm just very self conscious about how much different I look. He's gone for most of my appointments, so he doesn't really get to see my stomach then either.

"Fine. But you know it helps. Just say the words and I'll do it for you," he says.

"Yeah, okay," I say, rolling my eyes again.

***

After dinner I am curled in our bed, reading my book again. The cramps in my lower abdomen are getting to me, and it takes almost everything in my not to moan with pain.

Timmy walks out of our bathroom, his curls dripping wet, and a towel wrapped around his waist.

"What's up?" he asks, noticing my pained expression.

"It just hurts," I tell him with a groan.

"I'm so sorry. Is there anything I can do?" he asks.

There is something he could do. At this point, I don't even care that our child is inside of me. I just want this pain to go away, and even my doctor recommended sex for these cramps.

I just really don't want him to see my body.

"Yes. Please. I don't even care anymore, let's just have sex," I say desperately.

He raises his eyebrows, a cute grin spreading across his face.

"Are you sure? You don't feel weird about it anymore?" he asks, walking over to the bed, still holding his towel around his waist.

"No. At this point, I just don't even care," I tell him, sitting up and pulling him towards me.

He smiles as he kisses me, dropping his towel. His hand gently snakes under my sweatpants and to my center, where his long fingers slowly circle me. I moan into his mouth. I missed this.

When he starts tugging my shirt up, I freeze. I start pulling it back down. He pulls away from my lips, a look of confusion painted across his impossibly perfect features.

"What?" he asks.

I bite my lip and hesitate before answering.

"It's just... my body is way different now. And I'm getting kind of insecure, and I really just don't want you to see it," I tell him.

He gives me an exasperated look.

"Y/N, really? Why not? You're body is so beautiful, always. It's especially beautiful right now, because you are growing our child. That's insane. Do you really think I would judge you for not looking the same or something?" he asks.

"No, no. I just... I'm not used to it right now. Look," I say, sliding up my shirt, "look at all of these marks. Ugh. They make me feel so gross," I confide.

He doesn't say anything, but instead pulls my shirt up even further, leans down, and kisses every single stretch mark. His warm, plush lips ignite my skin

"Gross?" he says, looking back up at me. "How could this be gross? This is so fucking beautiful. You're so beautiful," he tells me, a ferocity in his gaze. I believe him. I tangle my hands in his damp hair and pull his lips back to mine. "So beautiful," he says, through gasps of air as our mouths collide.

He leaves trails of kisses down my neck, my chest, and my stomach, making my breath hitch the lower he goes.

I throw my head back on the pillow and smile.

He is too perfect.