Timothèe Chalamet Imagines

✮caught✮

MATURE

Your POV

I finally, finally get our five year old son, Y/S/N, into bed. I shut the door, lean against it, and sigh. I am exhausted. I've been working non-stop, dealing with all of Y/S/N's extra activites. When I'm not working, I'm driving him to soccer, or baseball, or youth group, or art club, or any of the other five thousand things we signed him up for. And then there's Y/D/N, who is only three, and has reached a stage of constant tantrum-throwing. Timothée helps when he can, but his filming schedule has been so demanding lately that I've kind of had to do it all. I'm just tired.

Timothée walks out of Y/D/N's room and shuts the door quietly. He glances at me before walking towards me.

"Hey," he says sweetly, tucking my hair behind my ear.

"Hey," I answer. I sound as tired as I feel.

"Are you alright?" he asks.

"Yeah. Just tired. We miss having you around all the time. I'm glad your home before 11 tonight, even if it is just tonight," I say. His emerald green eyes fill with guilt. That's one thing about Timmy - even though he's an actor, he doesn't naturally cover his emotions; they're painted all over his expressions.

"No, no, that's not what I mean. I'm sorry. Normally I'm just fine but tonight I'm tired," I tell him, trying to right what I said. He continues stroking my hair, and doesn't say anything. His expression changes from guilt, and his eyes slightly darken. He leans forward and slowly kisses my cheeks, my nose, and my temples before hovering over my lips.

"I'm sorry I've been gone. How about I make it up to you? I want to make you feel good," he whispers inches from my lips before planting one last kiss against them. Even after all these years of being with him, his words and his touch make me slightly dizzy.

A grin spreads across my face and I nod. He kisses me again, our lips meshing together. It's been a while since we've done this. Making sure not to break our lips, he guides me slowly down the hall and to our bedroom, where he opens the door with one hand and pushes me inside before shutting it again. I stand against the wall and pant heavily for a moment before he pushes me against it and attacks my lips with his plush, swollen ones.

This time I'm the one that pulls him, and it's over to our bed. I push him down so that he's laying flat on his back, and I straddle him, slowly rocking my hips over him. I kiss his pink lips again, and the way he moans in my mouth makes the heat all over my body grow.

He flips me over and tugs my leggings and underwear off, throwing them on our floor. He quickly kicks of his pants and boxers before leaning over me and leaving kisses all over my collarbone, my neck, and my lips. He slowly sinks himself inside of me, leaving me completely full.

"Fuck," I sigh, my voice only slightly louder than a whisper. He continues thrusting slowly in and out of me, sucking on the skin on my neck. His curls softly brush my skin as he continues, his pace quickening. I rake my fingers up his back, trying to pull him even deeper into me.

I feel the heat begin to grow in the pit of my stomach, and I know I'm close.

"Don't stop," I breathe loudly.

"Mommy?" I freeze, the heat instantly leaving my body. Timothée quickly pulls out of me and grabs one of the folded blankets on our bed, trying to use it to shield us.

Y/S/N stands in our doorway. I hadn't heard him open it at all. I hadn't noticed the light flood in from the hallway.

"Daddy? Are you hurting mommy?" Y/S/N asks, holding his blanket beside him.

"Uh... no. No, Y/S/N, I would never hurt mommy. Go back to your room, I will come tuck you in in a minute," Timothée tells him. Y/S/N stands there for another second before turning and going back down the hallway to his room.

"How long was he standing there?" I ask, as Timothée grabs his boxers and puts them on.

"I have no idea."

"That is so embarrassing!" I say. As anxious as it made me, I can't help but try to hold back a laugh.

"I know. I'll go tuck him in... next time remind me to lock the door behind us," Timothée says with a smile, walking out.

I throw myself back on our bed, the blanket wrapped around me, and groan into one of my pillows, half laughing, half crying from embarassment.

At least it was good while it lasted.