Father's Day- John x Pregnant Reader

Father's Day- John x Pregnant Reader

For once you welcomed the idea and presence of traffic. Car after car passed by containing tired and/or impatient drivers ready to strike their horn in vain to make the line move faster or at least inch forward. The delay could be as simple and frustrating as a duck crossing the road to a sickening and saddening crash, glass and car parts scattered across the black pavement. It gave you time to think, to feel, and inspect. To passersby it looked odd when you carefully rolled up the edge of your shirt to reveal your belly. Your stomach quivered with every glance. The thought of something growing inside you was not unwelcomed, but still hard to accept and slightly unsettling.

Moments ago you’d been sitting in a sterile white room waiting for doctor to arrive with the results. When she did arrive, a smile was spread across her face and a file was in hands.  She gave you wonderful news and congratulations. You were nearly three weeks pregnant. At first a smile lifted your face.  That explained a lot.  You and your husband had been trying for a while.  The smile faded when the doctor gave you a list of instructions; avoid caffeine, sweets, sushi, and alcohol. You could live without all but one of those things.  Your suspicions had risen when you had an insatiable craving for cake and it was still going strong. Then she gave you a list of what to expect which added to what you thought was going to happen.

Now you sat in your car, grateful for traffic and the time to wonder. John, your husband, would be able to take it and would be a wonderful father, but what about you? You’d once felt fully confident with the idea of pregnancy and motherhood, but now that there was an actual baby growing inside of you, doubts seeped into your mind. What if when the too-soon delivery date arrived, you tried your best, but still messed up? You sighed, slouching in your seat as you caressed your now covered belly.

You could really go for some cake right now.

That craving created another problem, knowing it would never be satisfied since cake, oddly enough, was a touchy subject in your household. You could go out and buy a cake and consume it in the car, but something about that seemed wrong and didn’t settle with you. But it was extremely tempting, feeling the moist cake melt on your tongue, dancing with the smooth sweet icing in a beautiful art, and with a large glass of milk it was heaven. Your mouth watered at the thought.

You tried to suppress the need, but were ultimately failing. The problem with the aroma and presence of baked goods around your husband was that it bit into memories, not bad memories, but sad. His father, who’d past away when he was a teenage, enjoyed baking, but John had always rebuffed the offer of a slice. Now he felt guilty and baked goods were nonexistent in your house hold.
Suddenly a car honk interrupted the thoughts that you’d been so lost in.  You’d fail to notice the line beginning to move. You sighed and with a final glance at your belly, you pulled forward.

You arrived home in a decent amount of time, now hungry and slightly shaken.  You weren’t up for any surprises but one waited for you when you stepped inside. The most utterly pleasing and sought after smell of chocolate cake slithered through the house. You rushed to the kitchen and discovered another surprise.

There was cake on the counter and John was fighting with a bag of icing, lip bit in concentration, as he attempted to ice the cake. Obviously, he was failing, having no experience in baking.  The icing looked messy and several globs were smeared across the counter.  The cake itself must have been a box mix since, save for the icing, it looked like a normal cake.

John cussed as another glob squirted from the bag and landed on the counter.  

“John? Why did you make a cake?” you asked, breaking his attention from his work.

“I was trying to make a cake for Father’s Day,” he explained, eyeing the cake. “But it seems I’m not doing such a good job.”

“It’s all right,” you said, going to grab a spreading knife.

You, on the other hand, had some experience from childhood with cakes and were able to cleanly spread the icing.  Even though Father’s day was last week, it was still a sweet and comforting sentiment. No way would you mess up as a parent with someone as goofy and caring as John by your side, someone who could put your mind at ease with simple gestures and enjoy a good prank.

Once the cake was corrected the two of you stood, staring at it. Your sight was torn between the cake and your husband who looked to be pondering, probably about what to do with the cake. You took a deep breath, your stomach churned, knowing he wouldn’t overreact too badly when you told him.

“John...it’s not Father’s Day.” You said.

“I know,” he admitted, “I thought I’d at least try.”  

There was silence as a rare frown appeared on his usually grinning face.  You grabbed his hand and gave it a squeeze to provide some comfort. There was no time like the present.

“Maybe…it could be the day you found out you were going to be a father?”

John’s frown quickly morphed into a look of giddy surprise. “Really?” he said.

His smile was infectious.  You smiled bashfully and nodded. He quickly pressed his lips against yours in a long sweet kiss and soon the two of you were twirling around the room, John cheering as you laughed.  You stopped only for John to give you reassuring kisses. When that stopped you stood in breath-gasping silence. The question of “What happens next?” hung in the air.

Another kiss happened next and when John pulled away he offered you a piece of cake. Of course you accepted. The rest of that “Father’s Day,” was spent eating cake and ice cream while John called his friends to inform them of the good news. There was nothing to worry about.