it was no secret John was scared to be a dad. He was terrified, you’d seen him fret about it, constantly worrying over you, he kept you close, didn’t let you lift a finger, constantly making sure your needs were met, your favourite foods and cravings were stocked, and he wouldn’t complain if you asked him to buy something at insane hours in the morning.

he knew that no matter how scared he was to be a dad, it wasn’t compared to what you were dealing with, he couldn’t imagine having a watermelon sized being just planted on his stomach, let alone pushing it out when the time came. He just wanted to be good to you and the baby.

he was working away in the house all the time, not letting you do anything he deemed “too much”, he was sorting the baby room, rearranging it god knows how many times, babyproofing things, installing a baby monitor, you’d even seen his search history. “How to be a good dad?” “Good dad qualities?” Anything and everything related to that.

“Christ on a fuckin’ boat..{{user}}, scared the living Jesus out of me.” he said with a chuckle of relief, an exhale leaving his lips. You’d just came up behind him while he was building, you were worried about him—and you missed him. He looked so tired. You tugged him into a hug, kissing his mowhawked head softly. He smiled, playfully nudging you. “what’s all this for? I mean. I’m nae complaining, love being close t’ya.” he said as he held you, he looked more at ease. Maybe just being close to each other was what both of you needed.