timothée chalamet imagines

lover

your pov

I sat up in bed, my eyes following Timothée walk around our bedroom.

He grabs his duffel bag and stuffs in another pair of sweats and a t-shirt, throwing multiple scripts on top; along with his highlighters.

I rest my chin in the palm of my hand as he zips up the bag and turns around to look at me.

"Like what you see?" he asks, setting the bag on the floor and crawling onto the bed.

"More than like." I smile.

He pushes me down onto my back and gets on top, pecking my lips with soft kisses as I start to run my fingers through the curls resting at the nape of his neck.

The kisses stop and he tucks his face into my neck. I wrap my arms around him tightly.

"Can I go where you go?" I ask.

He looks at me. "I wish you could." All I want is for us to always be this close.

"You're going to be late." I tell him.

"I know." he says, pecking my lips once again.

I laugh against his lips, pushing his face away with little given strength. "Go."

"Alright, alright." he whines, getting off the bed and picking up his bag to head to set.

"I love you." I get to say before he can walk out of our bedroom.

He smiles and picks up his back. "I love you too."

I sink back down into the bed after hearing the front door open and close. I'm upset that he has to go, but understand that he has to.

I get up and make the bed, take a quick shower and throw on yet another t-shirt and sweats.

I go downstairs to the kitchen to make some coffee and toast up a bagel for breakfast.

My eyes peer over to the couch, seeing the pillows and blanket tossed over it. We let our friends crash in our living room way more often than they should and get left with the sight if they're in an obvious hurry to leave.

After I finish eating, I rinse the dishes and save them to do later. I walk over to the couch, folding up the blankets and fluffing the pillows back to how they once were.

later that evening...

As I set down the plate on the placemat, I hear the front door open.

"Y/n?" Timothée calls out, his voice followed by the drop of his duffel bag on the wooden floor.

"Dining room!"

His footsteps approach and he comes over, wrapping his arm around my waist and planting a kiss on my cheek. "It smells good in here."

"Made your favorite."

"Did you now?" he smiles, pecking my lips.

"Come on." I say, grabbing his hand and going to the kitchen. We grab the pots and bring them back to the dining room, setting them at the center of the table. Timothée goes back for some glasses and a bottle of our favorite wine.

I sit down and unwrap my utensils. He appears in the dining room once again. "Saved you a seat." I say, tapping my hand on the back of the chair.

"Thank you." he chuckles, sitting down. I serve myself some food, as does he.

We crack open the bottle and cheers to 'us.'

Our small talk fills the dining room. The topics covered are how it went on set today, life in general, the inevitable future.