[REQUESTED] Tom and the reader are going to be first time parents.
(I couldn't decide if I wanted you and Tom to be married or not, so it's up to you!)
You watched Tom read the morning paper, coffee in hand as he usually did. He looked so serious, but at the same time so detached that it made you giggle.
"What?"
"You already look like a dad," you answered.
Tom smiled, putting his coffee down and walking towards you. He put his hand down on your belly, which had grown quite a bit in the last few months, and it was now visible that you were pregnant.
"Don't go to work today," you said, putting your hand over where his was. "Stay home with me. The baby misses you when you leave."
Tom chuckled. "Y/n, you know I love you and her very much. I wish I could stay but I can't. But I'll make it up to you this weekend, okay?"
You knew what his answer was going to be, but it was worth a try.
"Okay," you sighed.
He lovingly moved some hair out of your face and gave you a kiss. "I love you," he said softly.
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"I love you too."
He grinned. Then he bent down so he was closer to your belly. "I love you as well, sweetheart." He cooed to the baby. He had started talking to the baby a little when he had first found out that babies can recognize their father's voice when they are born. But now that you two knew it was a girl, he talked to her even more. You found it endearing, and to be the sweetest thing in the world.
Tom slipped on his jacket and shoes and stood by the door. "I'll try to be earlier today," he said.
"Sounds good. Could you pick up some raspberry cheesecake, a loaf of banana bread, and some asparagus please?"
"Asparagus? Since when do you like-"
"Thomas."
Tom sighed. "Yes, dear."
── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──
You decided to read a few of the parenting magazines you had picked up from the drugstore. When Tom came home, you were looking at the shopping catalog.
"Hey," he said as he walked in, putting down all the groceries.
"Hey," you replied, barely looking up. "Do you think we need a big fancy stroller, with the umbrella, or will that subconsciously make her spoiled?"
Tom stood by the couch, looking exasperated. "I don't know. But do you think you'll feed the baby yourself? Or use formula?"
"I-"
"Because Doug has been looking a lot into childcare stuff because of Clavo, and he and Dorothy may decide to have their own kid soon," he rambled. "And anyway, he told me that if you're not into the whole feeding thing, you can use formula. But also, the baby forms a closer bond with it's mother when she feeds it. But, whatever your comfortable with-"
