timothée chalamet imagines

where do babies come from?

your pov

I was cuddled up next to Timothée as our five year old son laid down on our laps.

It was a lazy Sunday, we spent the whole day watching movies in the living room and eating junk before having to start another busy week again.

"Mommy?" our son asked.

"Yes?" I smiled looking down at him.

He looked up at Timothée.

"Daddy?"

Timothée looked down at him too and tilted his chin up. "What is it?"

"Where do babies come from?" our son asked.

Timothée and I looked at each other.

I guess we never had "the talk" with him, we didn't feel the need to.

"I think your dad knows more about that, he can explain it to you."

Our son sat in my lap and looked at his dad.

Timmy was giving me a glaring look, I knew I'd pay for this later.

"Well.." he scratched the back of his head "when two people love each other, they decide to have a baby.."

"Just like you and mommy?"

"Yes." Timothée nodded.

"So when you decide to have a baby it comes?"

"No," Timothée shook his head, "you have to make a baby together."

"How do you make a baby?"

Timothée looked at me again, all I wanted to do was burst out laughing.

Our son is one to ask many questions.

"The mommy and the daddy get together..umm in the bed..then they like to..touch each other.."

"Do they give high fives?"

"No, they like to touch each other in a different way."

"Like a hug?"

"Yes, yes. But not a regular hug. A special one only moms and dads can do together."

Our son nodded like he was in complete understanding of the explanation, thank God.

"So you and mommy hugged each other?"

Timothée nodded.

"How long did you guys hug?"

"Your mom can answer that one." Timothée winked.

"We hugged for..let me think..three times a week."

"For two hours." Timothée added.

"That's a lot of hugging." our son said.

I laughed.

"What's funny?" our son asked.

"Nothing." I said.

"y/s/n," Timothée said "go put on your PJs. It's getting late, you have school tomorrow."

"I'll go tuck you in after I talk to your dad." I said.

Our son left the living and we watched him go up the stairs and to his room.

"Three times a week, for two hours huh?"

"Shut up." I hit shoulder.

"Three times a week. For two hours."

"Are you going to keep talking about it?" I asked.

I should have just dismissed our son's question to begin with. I know Timothée wouldn't let that go the second I said it.

"It's just-"

"Just what?"

"We don't even 'hug' once a week anymore."

"Stop saying hug." I rolled my eyes.

"Sorry."

"How about we send y/s/n over to your parents on Friday.." I moved over and straddled him in his lap "pick him up Sunday..have the house all to ourselves..for three days.."

I wrapped my arms around his neck as he put his around my waist, lowering his hands to squeeze my butt as he kissed me.

"Mom." I heard a voice.

"Oh my gosh," I got off of Timmy and stood up, "wh-what is it?"

"You said you were coming to tuck me in. I've been waiting forever."

It had been less than 3 minutes.

"Right," I nodded "let's go."

As I walked up the stairs, I looked back at Timothée.

He smiled and patted his lap, waiting for my return.

I said goodnight to y/s/n and walked out of the room. When I did, he called for me again.

"What is it?" I leaned against the door frame.

"Were you and dad doing the special hug?" he asked.

"Yes."

His mouth dropped opened and his eyes widened too.

"Wait- no. No, we weren't."

"Then what were you doing?"

"You ask too many questions," I said grabbing the doorknob "go to sleep."

I turned off his light and closed the door.

I turned to my left and Timothée was standing there, smirking.

"Couldn't wait for me to go back down huh?"

He shook his head. "Of course not."

He walked over and put his arm around my waist and kissed down my neck, nibbling at the skin behind my ear.

"I can't wait until Friday anymore," he said

Chills ran down my spine.

"I want you now."

this was a request, idk if it's weird ✨🧚‍♀️