timothée chalamet imagines

diaper change

timothée's pov

I turned down the volume on the baby monitor as I felt y/n shuffling around a bit.

It was 3:30 a.m and our two week old baby girl was crying. I got out of the bed slowly and felt y/n reach out and grab my hand.

"What's wrong?" she asked half asleep.

"Y/d/n's crying. I'll be right back."

She started sitting up in the bed before I lightly pushed her back down.

"You need some sleep, we'll be fine."

"Okay." she yawned and knocked out again in a matter of seconds.

I walked out of our room and into our daughter's nursery, turning on the light.

"I got you, daddy's here." I said picking her up out of the crib.

Her crying calmed down a bit.

"Shh..shh it's alright." I swayed side to side.

A strong odor came over me. I moved my head down and sniffed, her diaper was full.

One of the worst and most disgusting things about early parenthood: diaper changing.

I wiped down her changing table and laid her down, reaching for a clean diaper from the side drawer of the dresser.

"Here we go," I said undoing the bottom two buttons on her onesie "oh God."

I looked away from the sight.

It. was. EVERYWHERE.

What was once the nice, white, and clean changing table mat, was now filthy and covered in brown streaks.

I held my breath and took off her onesie, undid her diaper and threw them away in the trash.

There was no way of salvaging that outfit.

"Almost done." I said grabbing another wipe.

"Oh my gosh." I heard y/n say.

I turned to my right and saw her standing in the doorway.

"I'm sorry, I was trying to be quiet."

"You were being quiet," she walked over to the changing table and held her nose closed "but I could smell it from down the hall."

"She's a stinker." I smiled down at our daughter and finished wiping her clean.

"Here." y/n handed me the clean diaper after I threw the wipe in the trash.

I put it on y/d/n as securely as it could go.

"All better," I cooed "can you get another onesie?"

Y/n nodded and walked over to the closet, bringing back a fresh one on a hanger.

I took it off the hanger and attempted to put it on y/d/n, but she wouldn't stop moving.

"Just grab her arms and legs and put them through the sleeves."

"I don't want to break them!" I said.

"Let me do it." y/n sighed.

I moved over. She took what would have taken me 10 minutes and did it in 10 seconds.

"Practice makes perfect." she said lifting y/d/n from the changing table.

I cleaned off the changing mat completely, along with my hands, and walked over to y/n who was just laying our daughter back down into her crib.

Y/d/n fussed a bit before she laid still and drifted back off to sleep.

I wrapped my arms around y/n as we stared down at our daughter.

"You have to teach me the onesie trick." I said.

"There is no trick." y/n laughed.

"Then how come it's so easy for you?"

"It's not easy, you just have to keep doing it."

"But what if I break her arm or her leg?"

"You won't."

"She's just so small." I frowned.

"I know she is," y/n said "I wish she would stay like this forever."

"Me too."