timothée chalamet imagines

first day of school

timothée's pov

I peeled my eyes open to y/n climbing out of bed.

My arm reached for her quickly. "Don't go yet."

She turns around with an extremely tired face.

"We're all going to be late if you don't get out of bed soon." she says, breaking into a yawn.

"Five more minutes." I say, closing my eyes and wrapping myself up with our blanket.

She laughs. "Five more minutes."

Five minutes later..

"Get up." y/n says, pushing my shoulder.

I groan, covering my head with the blanket.

"Get up." she sings loudly.

I absolutely hate waking up early and it doesn't help that she's typically in a peppy mood.

The blanket gets taken off my head and I'm not met with the sight of y/n being the one standing right next to the bed.

"Wake up." my son says, pulling on my arm.

I close my eyes, sighing. "Alright."

I take the blanket off and stand up. I give my son's head of curls a fluff and kiss y/n on the cheek, making my way over to the bathroom.

As I start brushing my teeth, I hear an eruption of loud giggles leaving the bedroom. My heart can help but melt.

I finish brushing my teeth and come to find that y/n and our son have gone downstairs.

I go down as well and find them in the kitchen, our son is sitting up in his favorite chair and y/n is putting a pancake on his plate.

His small hands immediately reach for the syrup, I rush over and take the bottle from him; as he's about to spill it all over the table and anywhere but onto his actual pancake.

I squeeze the bottle, letting the syrup come out onto the warm cooked dough. "More?" I ask.

"Yes, please." he grins.

I add just a bit more. He doesn't need all this sugar, especially not today.

"Want some?" y/n asks, lifting up the spatula that rests a pancake on it.

I nod. "Sure."

She grabs the plate besides her and puts two of them on there for me. I walk over, grabbing the plate before she can hand it to me.

"Thank you." I say.

She smiles. "You're welcome."

I give her another kiss to the cheek as she makes another two pancakes for herself.

We sit together at the kitchen table, our son between us. He sings to himself while chewing on his pancakes, his feet swinging back and forth.

Y/n and I laugh to ourselves. This boy does not have a care in the world.

"Are we still good on time?" I ask.

Y/n looks at the time on the stove. "Yes."

I nod and continue eating. Our son is quick to finish his single pancake. Y/n and I finish eating, tossing all our plates into the dishwasher.

"I'll get him dressed." I tell y/n and she nods.

Our son hops off his chair and I hold his hand going up the stairs, y/n follows behind. I go into our son's bedroom and open his closet as y/n goes into our bedroom to get ready.