BB

I follow with dreamedaboutitinthedark-main 18+ blog/MDNI

[dreamedaboutitinthedark]

BB, she/her, 19, bi, proudly anti-DBF trope

♡: DILFs | mostly Jack Abbot at the moment

18+ blog | no hate speech | no tr*mp supporters/bigots allowed | be kind and respectful

ao3 account

Masterlist

Taglist is open (you're weird if you don't reblog)

Requests are open (please read rules/guidlines before submitting a request)

Always feel free to just say hi or chat in the inbox

This is a side blog; any interactions received from the blog @dreamedaboutitinthedark-main is coming from me

[dreamedaboutitinthedark]

Doctor Dad

Summary: You bring your daughter into the world with Jack's help. Literally.

Pairing: Jack Abbot x Pregnant!Reader

Content warnings: MDNI, Al-Hashimi and Dana cameos, anxiety, labor (positive experience for Baby Mama ((with the exception of one ignorant nurse)) b/c I love her and could never let anything awful happen to her that doesn't serve the storyline), Jack is an excellent advocate/support person, epidural is used as well as other methods of pain relief, possible medical inaccuracies, childbirth, fluff, baby is named but is given a silly and cute nickname that she will be referred to as going forward (y'all voted on this)

Word count: 6,131

Series Masterlist | Read on ao3 here | dividers by @/lariesographic

Author's note: the things I know about labor and childbirth now... I'm not traumatized b/c I'm mature, but this is lowk more than I wanted to know at this stage of my life. some of this stuff is random things I learned from the TikTok for you page, and then some of it came from very detailed Google searches, and some is from birth stories I watched on YouTube. I tried watching birth vlogs, but some of these dads seemed evil, so I couldn't do it, plus it was kind of scary for me, so yeah. anyways I hope you enjoy b/c this series has lowkey become my baby so pls lmk what you think and here's your reminder that reblogs (empty or not) are good for your health! ily thank you for being here pls enjoy! <3

additional note: if you are on any of the taglists here and don't reblog this post after liking/commenting, you are getting side eyed hard.

40 weeks and two days. In other words, hell. That’s the state you’re currently in.

You just had to all but push Jack out the door to go to work, but he’s gone. Sure, you told him to go, but now you’re bored. You’ve watched all of Adam Sandler’s and Queen Latifah’s movies, so now you’re not even sure what to put on the TV.

Eventually, you decide to put on an episode of Shameless, and once you’ve got all your snacks and two drinks nearby, you’re ready to camp out on the couch for the foreseeable future.

//

At noon, Jack’s left hand can’t stop tapping against his leg while he fills out a chart on one of the computers in the hub. His mind can’t get off of you, and he was just a little uncharacteristically harsh on one of the residents. He prides himself on his stern but empathetic approach; he hasn’t snapped at anyone in years.

Al-Hashimi walks over, calmly, with no readable expression on her face. She leans over, elbows on the countertop.

“Whitaker will get over it,” she says softly. “So there’s no need for you to feel this bad about it.”

Jack looks up at Al-Hashimi through his lashes.

“You said your wife’s due date was September third, correct?” she asks.

Jack looks back at the computer and nods. “Yeah.”

“It’s the fifth.”

“I know,” he says, a little annoyed and snippy. He sighs and looks at her again. “Sorry.” 

Al-Hashimi sighs and considers her words for a moment. “My ex was the same way before I had my son. This isn’t an abnormal reaction to waiting for your baby to be born. The doctor tells you the due date, and even though we all know babies come on their own schedules, you expect them to come when they’re ‘supposed to.’”

Jack finally logs out of the computer and leans back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest.

“Am I wrong to suspect your wife all but kicked you out today because you were maybe a little overbearing?” Al-Hashimi ventures.

Jack’s brows furrow. “What do you mean?”

“You’re a passionate man, Abbot,” Al-Hashimi says, seemingly holding back a smile. “And while your wife definitely loves you, she’s uncomfortable, and at this point, overdue. The last thing she needs is a husband who won’t bend to her will because of his own anxiety.”

Jack frowns. 

“I bend,” he mutters under his breath.

Al-Hashimi grins. “I’m sure. I just mean to say, she needs you to be relaxed and amenable, not tense and rigid.”

Okay, maybe she’s got a point. He can’t imagine what it feels like to have an entire baby pushing his lungs out of the way and fuck with his center of gravity. You need him to be calm and willing to do what makes you happy and comfortable.

Jack nods and sighs. 

“You’re right. I need to relax more,” he says.

Al-Hashimi smiles softer now. “You’re going to be a great father. We’ll miss you on paternity leave.”

Jack perks up at that. “Eh, you’ll all manage. I might bring the baby by for you all to meet once she’s big enough.”

“We’d all love that.”

Just then, Dana calls Jack’s name.

“Abbot, I got your wife on the phone,” she calls out.

Without missing a beat, Jack’s out of his chair and heading over to Dana, who’s got the hospital landline in her hand.

“Sweetheart?” he speaks into the receiver.

“Hi, I didn’t want to take the chance of you missing the call on your personal phone.”

“That’s fine. Are you okay?”

You pause on the other line for a moment.

“Um,” you begin. “I think I’m in early labor. Contractions every eight minutes, 30 seconds long. I think I had the bloody show or whatever that stuff is.”

Jack’s heart is in his throat. When he tries to talk, he can’t. He clears his throat and sighs. 

“Okay,” he says. “How’s the pain?”

You sigh. “Uh, like day two period cramps, but I’ll live.”

Jack rubs his temple. “Okay. You want me home, I take it?”

“Yes,” you say quickly. “Please. As fast as you can, but don’t drive like a maniac; I’m okay so far.”

Jack nods even though you can’t see him. “Okay, I’ll leave now. You got this, sweetheart. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

When you hang up, Jack hands the phone back to Dana, his eyes wild.

“Whoa, is it baby time?” she asks him, one hand on his forearm to steady him.

He nods, his body gearing up to be your rock for the foreseeable future.

“Yeah,” he says, panting like he just ran ten laps around the E.D. “She’s in early labor. Eight minutes apart, thirty seconds long.”

“Okay,” Dana says calmly. “Al-Hashimi can handle things on her own down here until another attending gets here. And besides, we’ve got all our best residents today, so you’re leaving everyone in good hands, Abbot.”

“Right. Yeah, I know,” he breathes.

Dana pats his arm.

“I’ll call Dr. Rosen in. Good luck, Dad,” she says as she steps back over to her workstation.

Jack mumbles a ‘thanks’ as he starts moving on autopilot. He makes a beeline for the locker room to grab his bag and then heads straight for the parking lot.

He’s prepared for this moment in his last few therapy sessions. He just has to drive back home, ask you what you want from him, and do exactly that.

//

When he pulls into the driveway, he takes a minute to compose himself. As soon as he walks through the front door, he’ll be a rock, completely steady and dependable for you. His only priority is you and the baby.

After some deep breaths, he shuts the truck off and grabs his things before heading inside.

“Sweetheart?” he calls out as he locks the front door behind him.

“I’m in the kitchen,” you call out.

Jack drops his bag on the floor and pads into the kitchen to find you making sandwiches.

“Are you hungry?” you ask, looking up at him momentarily.

He smiles softly and walks up to you, wrapping his arms around your waist and pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“How’re you feeling?” he asks.

“Okay still,” you say as you cut both sandwiches diagonally. “I just had a contraction right before you walked in.”

Another kiss to your cheek. “Any progress?”

“No, it’s the same as when I called you.”

“Okay, um, do you want to sit at the table or on the couch?” he asks softly, stepping back to take both plates.

“Couch,” you decide.

He leads the way, setting both plates on the coffee table so he can help you get comfortable on the couch. Once you say you’re good, he hands you your plate and sits next to you.

After a minute of realizing what’s going on on the TV screen, Jack’s brows furrow.

“Wait, this fifteen-year-old is gay, and his hookup of choice is a 35-year-old?” he asks, looking from the screen to you.

You snort. “Yeah, but later in the show he gets with an age-appropriate guy, so it’s–” You sigh and clear your throat. “Fuck, that hurts. Anyways, this guy’s gonna be okay.”

Jack’s eyes go to his watch to time the contraction, his right hand offering itself to you, which you gladly take.

“I don’t even get to yell at you and tell you this is all your fault; I did this completely to myself,” you sigh as the contraction wanes.

Jack smiles sympathetically and brings your knuckles to his lips.

“Yell at me all you want,” he says softly. “You’re doing an incredible thing here for both of us, 

After lunch, Jack changes clothes and removes his prosthesis when he gets back to the couch. The two of you stay there for a couple of hours, softly talking over the TV as the contractions grow more intense.

“You’re doing good, sweetheart,” he mutters softly when another one comes. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you mutter softly, your grip easing up as the contraction lessens. “Can I sit on your lap?”

He’s a little surprised, but he nods anyway and scooches all the way back to the corner of the sectional, his legs straight in front of him. You lower yourself onto his lap, your back to the plush arm of the couch, one hand resting on Jack’s shoulder farthest from you, the other on your belly.

Jack joins hands with you on your belly and drapes his other arm around your shoulders.

“I’ve narrowed down my favorite names,” you say softly, head tucked under his chin.

“Let’s hear ‘em.”

“Vivian. Felicity. Colette. Amelie. And Charlotte has grown on me.”

“I’m happy with those,” he says softly. 

You press a soft kiss to Jack’s chest. “We’ll know when we see her.”

Jack hums in agreement and kisses the top of your head. 

//

Around 6:00 PM, things feel more intense. You’ve had contractions every 5 minutes, each lasting a minute, for the last half hour.

After asking what you want to do, Jack helps you to the car, triple-checking that the bags are in the trunk and that the baby’s car seat is in place. Before heading to the hospital, he goes through a Dairy Queen drive-thru, and the two of you eat dinner in your car. 

When you’re done, you start really making your way to the hospital. 

Triage goes well. Both you and the baby have good vital signs, contractions are consistent, and the cervical exam confirms that you are four and a half centimeters dilated. 

Check-in is easy, but it causes some anxiety. It’s all real. This is really happening. The baby you’ve wanted since you were a little girl playing with dolls is about to come into the world. You want her. You wanted her so badly, you made her all by yourself, and she’s about to come.

You’re about to get hooked up to monitors that tell you she’s really coming.

Jack holds your hand as the two of you are led to a room.

You hand the hospital gown back to the nurse in the interest of wearing the birthing gown you bought online after it was recommended to you by your cousin after she had her baby. The nurse, Rhiannon, hooks up the fetal monitor to your belly, though this one is sticky and allows for movement rather than the belts you’d seen on TV shows before.

“Okay, last thing is an IV, or what we can do is an IV port that isn’t connected to any tubes or wires until you decide that maybe you need an epidural or we end up needing to administer a different type of medication,” Rhiannon says as she readies her equipment. “Either way, I’ve gotta poke you.”

“Port sounds good.” You hand Rhiannon your arm with the best veins and turn your head toward Jack, who’s looking at you with the same awe he had in his eyes the first time he saw you naked and when you put his wedding ring on him in the courthouse.

As Rhiannon gets to work, she asks, “Do you know what you’re having?” in an easy voice, clearly confident in her ability to multitask.

“A girl,” you answer, smiling at Jack.

He reaches out a hand to tuck your hair behind your ear, his thumb caressing your cheekbone.

“Yay,” Rhiannon says, clearly smiling. “I love girls. I have two nieces. You guys are gonna love having a girl. Um, how long have the two of you been together?”

“Um,” both you and Jack say at the same time.

You laugh softly. “We got married about a month ago. We met, like, over three years ago when I moved in next door.”

“Neighbors to lovers, that’s so cute,” Rhiannon says as she finishes up. “Okay. I skimmed over your file before I walked in, but I think I remember seeing you wanted to wait on the epidural for freedom of movement, correct?”

You nod as you turn over to look at your nurse. “Yeah, that’s right.”

Rhiannon nods. “Okay, well, as soon as you do want it, if you end up wanting it, just press the call button, and I’ll come in, and we’ll find the anesthesiologist, okay? Perfect. Good luck, and I’ll check back in later.”

Then it’s just you and Jack, and a contraction hits almost as soon as the door shuts, and your fingernails dig into his skin.

He leans his forehead against yours, and with his free hand, he gently scratches your scalp.

Since you’ve stopped being able to talk through the contractions, he’s stopped talking to you during them. For one, you can’t answer, even if he is just praising you, and for two, he can only imagine how annoying the sound of his voice is going to get towards the end of this anyway, so he’ll keep his mouth shut as much as he can.

As the contraction wanes, you loosen your grip on Jack’s hand and let out a soft sigh.

“You okay?” he asks after a moment.

You nod and smile tiredly at him. “I love you.”

Jack smiles and pecks your lips. “I love you, too. I’m gonna dim the lights, okay? That sound good?”

You nod again.

He kisses your forehead before he stands and dims all the lights. It’s about 8:30 at night, so things are naturally winding down with the exception of your uterus and cervix.

When you’re satisfied with the lighting, you hold your hand out. Jack sits on the edge of the bed and takes your hand, putting his free hand on your belly.

“You’re doing really good, sweetheart,” he tells you, his expression one of sincerity and love. “You’re handling everything really well. I’m so proud of you.”

You smile and lean your forehead on his shoulder, sitting with your legs crisscross, your left knee brushing against his left thigh clad in soft sweatpants.

Jack tilts his head down to kiss your hair, his left hand gently brushing up and down your back.

“You wanna switch positions soon?” he asks softly.

You nod and look over at the birthing ball in the corner. He heads to the corner to bring the ball to the middle of the room, then helps you stand from the bed, a gentle hand at the small of your back as he leads you toward the ball. You take both his hands as you lower yourself onto the ball.

“Feel okay?” he asks softly, crouching in front of you, hands on your knees, fingertips brushing yours.

“Yeah,” you mutter softly.

You cup his jaw with both hands and lean in to kiss him. You can tell it surprises him at first, and you can’t really blame him, but after a few seconds, he starts reciprocating, his hands sliding up the length of your thighs to rest on your hips while you gently sway them on the ball.

When he hears you moan, out of pain and not pleasure, he pulls back, but you lean back in. 

Jack lets you take the lead. As soon as you pull him back in, he’s back to kissing you with all the love in his heart. His hands on your hips press in, hoping the counterpressure will help.

Once the contraction passes, you pull back, eyes glazed over as you look at him.

“The article I sent you a few weeks ago,” you say breathlessly. “On kissing and oxytocin and labor and stuff. Sorry, I thought you remembered.”

Realization hits him quickly.

“Oh,” he sighs, smiling softly. “Okay, I remember now. I’ll kiss you all you want.”

//

A few hours go by pretty peacefully. At around 9:15, Rhiannon comes in to do a cervical check and tells you you’re at six centimeters. She cracks a few jokes, keeping things light, and when she leaves, you tell Jack to make a reminder to nominate her for a DAISY award when you get home.

Around 11:30, the contractions pick up in intensity. In the middle of the room, you stand with your arms around Jack’s neck, face buried into his chest. He keeps his hands on your hips to deliver counterpressure during contractions, now two and a half minutes apart.

There’s a knock on the door, and the nurse who walks through isn’t Rhiannon.

“Hi,” she says. “Rhiannon is otherwise occupied at the moment, so I’ll be doing your cervical check. My name is Jane.”

She snaps some gloves on, and as you try to peel yourself off of Jack to greet the new nurse, another contraction hits. This one steals your breath and pulls an almost animalistic moan from your throat. You dig your fingernails into the back of Jack’s neck, but he doesn’t waver.

“Oh, honey, why don’t you just get the epidural already?” Jane asks. “There’s absolutely no reason for you to feel the need to cause all that ruckus and scratch up your husband’s neck. I’ll call the anesthesiologist.”

All this from your knockoff of Rhiannon before the contraction is even over, mind you. Jack doesn’t miss a beat.

“There’s absolutely no need for that,” he says immediately, hands still steady on your body. “If my wife wants an epidural, she’ll ask for one, and she certainly doesn’t need you to make decisions about her body without even giving her time to think. Now, if you don’t mind, she’ll opt out of the cervical check for now. We’re happy to wait for Rhiannon.”

Eventually, you hear the door open and close, and once the contraction is over, you look up at Jack.

What a man.

“Am I really scratching up your neck?” you ask with a soft and feeble voice. “Or being too loud?”

He shakes his head. “No, of course not, and don’t worry about it anymore.”

You sigh softly and press your cheek to his chest.

“Could you do the cervical check?” you ask. “I feel like I should be further along, and I don’t wanna wait to find out.”

It’s a little bit surprising to hear this request, but if he’s going to catch the baby in a few hours, he can definitely check to see how dilated you are. Hopefully you’re nearing the end, and he can inspire some motivation with the news.

He nods and kisses your forehead.

“Yeah, sweetheart. Let’s get you back on the bed for a second,” he says softly as he guides you back toward the bed.

Once he’s got you in a good position, he heads to the counter and takes some sterile gloves, then heads back to the bed where he takes a look, and for about a minute, he’s both your husband and a doctor.

“I do want an epidural,” you say breathily while Jack checks you. “I just want to be the one to ask for it. I’m asking for it, Jack. Unless you say I’m at a ten, I’m asking for a fucking epidural.”

Jack nods and looks up at you, simultaneously pulling the gloves off.

“You’re at a seven. Do you want me to step out and ask for you?” he asks.

If you press the call button, fucking Jane might come back in, and hers is the last face you want to see even if you didn’t get a good look at it.

You nod and reach for his hand, another contraction building. He lets you pull him in for a kiss, doing anything you can to minimize the pain before you get some real relief.

It’s somewhat strange, kissing you in this situation. It’s not doing anything for him in the way kisses this passionate usually do, but it’s causing another emotion entirely. 

You’re so in control, and he’ll do anything to make sure you keep that. He’ll kiss you through the pain, he’ll rub your hips, he’ll let you scratch up his skin, he’ll tell off a nurse for you. Anything you want. The admiration he has for you right now is unlike anything ever before.

You’re such an incredible woman; he already knew that. But witnessing you bring life into this world and stay so strong through it all is strengthening his feelings toward you. Not that they ever faltered.

When it’s over, you pull back, and Jack exits the room as quickly as possible. Thankfully, the first nurse he sees at the nurse’s station is one he knows.

“Hey, Abbot,” she greets as he approaches.

He smiles but gets right to the point. “My wife wants an epidural. Where’s the anesthesiologist?"

“Uh, she’s finishing up with a patient right now, but there’s no one else waiting. Do you know how many centimeters she was at the last cervical check?”

“Seven, just a few minutes ago.”

The nurse nods. “Okay, I’ll send her in in a few minutes.”

He quickly thanks the nurse and heads back to your room, making it just in time for your next contraction. 

Just as he walks through the door, you reach your hand out, whimpering softly. He grabs your hand and reaches around with his free one to rub your back.

This time, he kisses you, moaning softly against you every so often to get your mind literally anywhere else besides this room.

When it’s over, and you lean your forehead against his, he tells you that the epidural is on its way.

“You’re doing really good, sweetheart,” he says softly. “I’ve seen lots of labors and deliveries, but this… It’s incredible. You’re doing such a hard thing so amazingly.” He pauses and kisses your cheek. “I’m more in love with you, and I didn’t think that was possible. You’re gonna be such a good mom. I know it. Our baby girl’s so lucky to have you.”

A silent tear falls down your cheek, brow furrowed as you focus on his face, every wrinkle, every freckle, every short hair of his stubbly beard and the smooth and gravelly sound of his voice.

Jack doesn’t tell you not to cry. He just smiles softly and wordlessly wipes your tears with the back of his knuckle.

“I love you,” he whispers. “I’m so lucky to be here.”

You shake your head and reach out to cup his cheek. 

“It’s not luck, Jack,” you say softly, your voice thick with emotion. “I chose you. You chose me and this baby, and I chose you back.”

He leans in for another kiss. This one just because, not particularly for pain relief, even if that’s an added plus.

You breathe him in, and take his hand and guide it to the side of your bump. He feels your skin tighten underneath his palm with another contraction. He keeps his hand perfectly still, hoping not to overstimulate you, and keeps kissing you.

After it passes, you stand with Jack again, only this time with your back to his chest. He holds your belly up for you one last time, taking the weight off your back for you, his lips pressed to your hair as the two of you slowly sway. You rest your palms on his forearms and stare across the room at the baby warmer, empty for now.

Soon, the anesthesiologist comes in and sets up for the epidural. She lets Jack stay in the room for the procedure and instructs him to stand in front of you, hands in yours.

Once it’s administered, and you’re in a comfortable position on your side, and the room is cleared, Jack turns off almost all the lights. He brings one of the chairs up to your bedside and holds your hand.

Within a few minutes, the epidural kicks in, and your eyes start to droop.

“Feeling good?” he asks softly, bringing a hand to cup your belly over the blanket.

You nod, a happy smile on your face. “Yeah, I can finally sleep now.”

Jack pulls his phone out of his pocket and props it up against your water bottle on the side table to record a video.

You cover his hand on your bump and admire the sight of your wedding rings and hospital bracelets brushing against each other.

“What are you most excited about becoming a mom?” he asks softly.

You hum thoughtfully. 

“Shaping a person,” you say. “Showing her things and watching her form her own opinions on them.”

Jack smiles and nods along.

“What about you?” you ask.

Jack sighs and chews on the inside of his cheek. “Probably the same. Just getting to witness her and see her grow and learn and experience the world.”

You smile brightly at him, and he leans in to peck your lips.

“Okay, last chance for betting,” he says.

You giggle softly and shut your eyes as you think, then open them again.

“She’ll come after 6:00 AM, seven pounds and ten ounces, 19 inches long. That’s my guess,” you say. 

“My guess is before 6:00 AM, eight pounds and one ounce, 20 inches long.”

You smile. “Either way, I’m excited to meet her.”

“Me, too,” Jack says softly, reaching out to tuck your hair behind your ear. “I already love her like crazy.”

Your smile widens, and you squeeze his hand. “I know. She’s gonna be perfect.”

“Yeah,” he whispers. “Just like you.”

He leans in to peck your lips, and before he pulls away, you mumble out an “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” Then he stops the video and puts his phone in his pocket. 

“You wanna get some rest?” he asks softly, his hand moving from your hair to your cheek, his thumb brushing back and forth against your skin.

You nod. “I love you, baby.”

Jack leans in for another kiss. “I love you, too, sweetheart. I’ll stay right here.”

“Take your prosthesis off,” you remind him.

He nods and leans back in his chair and pulls his pant leg up. Once it’s off, he places it out of the way but still in reach. By the time he looks back at you, your breathing is deeper. 

He smiles and leans down to kiss your bump for possibly the last time.

“I’ll see you soon, baby girl,” he whispers.

//

At almost 3:30 AM, Rhiannon comes back in for another cervical check.

Jack wakes first.

“Hi,” she says, speaking softly. “It’s time for another cervical check.” She snaps on some sterile gloves. “I find that it’s better for you to wake her up than me.”

Jack nods and gently rubs your shoulder to wake you. He presses a kiss to your cheek and whispers for you to wake up.

Your eyes flutter and land on Jack.

“Rhiannon’s back to check your dilation,” he says softly.

You nod, and Rhiannon helps you turn over on your back while Jack puts his prosthesis back on.

When she’s done checking you over, Rhiannon smiles.

“It’s baby time,” she says as she pulls the gloves off. “I saw in your chart that you wanted to use the squat bar, lower your epidural dose to push, and that if there were no complications that you wanted Jack to catch the baby. Still good with all that?”

You nod, yawning softly.

Rhiannon gets everything ready, and soon the bed is modified to accommodate the squat bar. Your OB-GYN, who was thankfully working the night shift, comes in, along with a second nurse, and suddenly, you’re just waiting for the next contraction so you can push.

You were a little nervous that pushing would take hours, but after only about 40 minutes of pushing and grunting and Jack whispering praise in your ear, your doctor smiles.

“Abbot, it’s your turn,” she says as she steps to the side.

You turn your face toward Jack, sweat dotting your hairline but the biggest sparkle of excitement in your eyes. You lean in for a peck, and Jack whispers, “I love you, sweetheart.”

“I love you, too,” you sniffle, smiling brightly.

Jack gets into position, your OB behind him, clearly monitoring the situation, but Jack’s delivered hundreds of babies, even just delivered one last week, so she’s not too worried about him biting off more than he can chew here.

Once he’s got sterile gloves on, he gets his hands into position.

“Alright, sweetheart,” he sighs, letting the doctor inside of him take over just a bit, though it’s clear the man in front of you is still your husband first and foremost. “On the next contraction, give me a big push.”

Rhiannon counts for you as you push. You white-knuckle the squat bar and breathe deeper than you ever have as you bear down.

“Good, good, good,” Jack mutters softly, his hands on the baby’s head, holding back tears by the grace of God. “You’re doing so good, sweetheart.”

With a soft whimper, you take a break from pushing.

“You’re doing great,” your doctor says from behind Jack. “Less than five pushes, I’d say.”

You nod and focus on your breathing.

“You wanna feel her hair?” Jack asks. “She’s got a lot.”

“Mhm,” you hum softly, the lack of sleep catching up to you.

Jack takes your hand and guides it between your legs.

“That’s not me?” you joke.

The entire room lets out a soft chuckle, with the exception of Rhiannon, who snorts softly into her shoulder.

“No,” Jack says, eyes crinkling as he smiles. “That’s our baby; she’s got a lotta hair.”

You smile and take a steadying breath as another contraction builds.

“Okay, sweetheart, you got this,” he says softly, growing serious again as he focuses on the baby.

That push delivers the head.

“Perfect,” Jack praises. “Just a couple more, sweetheart, let’s get the shoulders out.”

Two pushes later, the air is pierced by a sharp but oddly beautiful cry.

“She sounds kind of like a bird,” someone remarks. “So cute!”

You let out a sob of relief and hold your hands out as Jack places her on your chest.

Looking down at the squirming infant is all it takes to fall completely in love with her.

“Hi, baby girl,” you coo at her, holding your hands over her back so she doesn’t get cold. “Hi. Hi, sweetie. I’m your mama.”

At some point, Jack has moved from your legs and peeled his gloves off because now you feel his hand on your shoulder and hear him whispering in your ear, “You did so good.”

The baby continues to cry, but seems to begin to settle on your chest.

“Wow, you’re really here,” you whisper, tears streaming down your face uncontrollably. “I love you so much, beautiful baby girl.”

You look up at Jack on instinct, and tears are streaming down his face. He kisses your temple, then gently gives the baby his finger so she can wrap her first around it.

“Hi, baby girl,” he whispers. “I’m your daddy.” He sniffs. “Wow, you look just like your mom, sweetie.”

At the sound of her daddy’s voice, the cries die down into softer whimpers, still mad about leaving her warm home, but obviously happy Mom and Dad are near.

You press your lips against her head, uncaring about all the gunk on her head.

“Oh, God, she’s amazing,” you sigh, eyes shutting for a moment as you soak it all in.

You look over at Jack, and he smooths your hair back.

“You did incredible,” he whispers, eyes red-rimmed as he lets his tears fall.

You smile and blink out your own tears. “I love you. Thank you for catching her.”

Jack smiles back and kisses your cheek, then you turn to kiss his lips.

After another moment, you feel the need to push again. You swear softly under your breath and gently push on instinct. After about a minute, you vaguely hear your doctor tell you the placenta’s out, and you sigh relieved again.

“You’re all done,” Jack tells you. “You both did amazing.”

Once the cord turns white, Jack cuts it, and a few minutes later, the second nurse takes the baby over to the warmer to do some testing.

You send Jack over after he takes his shirt off, excited to see him actually hold the baby for the first time.

Jack stands near the baby warmer, eyes following his daughter’s every move as the nurse weighs, measures, and does everything else.

“Okay,” the nurse sighs, smiling at the screen that says all the levels are good. “Baby Abbot is seven pounds and eight ounces and 19 inches long. Five-minute APGAR score of ten. Congratulations. Jack, you can hold her now.”

Excitedly but carefully, Jack reaches his hands around the baby’s body and brings her to his chest. The nurse helps him cover her with a blanket, then he walks over to the chair by your bed.

Once everything else is determined to be okay, everyone leaves the room with soft whisperings of congratulations.

Jack sighs and smiles at you with all the love in his heart.

“You’re both incredible,” he says. “I’m in awe of you.”

You smile tiredly and sigh contentedly. “I’m so fucking happy.”

Jack smiles again, then stands and hands the baby back to you.

Soon, a lactation consultant comes in and helps you and the baby figure out the latch. Once you get the hang of it, you’re left alone again.

“Charlotte,” you say softly, looking at the baby.

Jack nods, the back of his finger caressing her cheek. “Charlotte Vivian Abbot?”

He looks to you to gauge your reaction. You smile.

“I like that,” you mutter softly.

Charlotte Vivian Abbot. Seven pounds and eight ounces. 19 inches long. Born at 4:26 AM on September 6, 2026.

Perfection in a very small package.

//

You and Jack manage to sleep for close to an hour before the baby is restless. After nursing, you’re starving, but luckily, Rhiannon brings you some breakfast before her shift ends.

“It’s not the best food, so if you’ve got people coming, you should ask them to bring you some food. Though, you can get food delivered, too. Anyway, my shift is ending, but I wanted to tell the little birdie and her sweet parents goodbye,” she says.

You smile and look down at the baby. 

“Birdie,” you muse. “That’s cute.” Then you look back at Rhiannon. “You’ve been really incredible. I can’t thank you enough.”

Rhiannon smiles and shrugs. “I’m just happy things went well. You three make a very cute family. Okay, I’ve got a breakfast date, so I’ve gotta go. Bye, guys.”

Then she’s gone.

“Birdie,” you sigh, smiling at the baby. “I like that, it’s cute.”

Jack sends the birth announcement to his parents, your mom and stepdad, his sister, then Robby and Dana.

After that, he puts his phone on “Do Not Disturb” and puts his focus on you and Birdie. A little later, though, he notices a text from his mom asking if it’s okay to call at some point. You say it’s fine, and Jack steps out into the hall, leaving you alone with the baby.

You had put her into a pink onesie so she wouldn’t get cold once the hospital AC started blowing a little too hard for your liking. 

Your little pink baby is finally here. She’s tiny and perfect and yours.

You hold her up by her armpits for just a moment, still supporting her head. The two of you just look at each other for a moment. Her face is scrunched up, but she’s perfect.

It’s hard to put into words how you’re feeling right now. You wanted this baby enough to raise her on your own. Jack is outside the door, but there was once a very real reality where he wasn’t supposed to be. 

And looking at her right now, it’s so clear to you that it would absolutely be worth it to be her mom by yourself. Anything hard that would come with raising her on your own would have been worth it, because the look in your daughter’s eyes that you can’t name is telling you that it all would’ve been okay.

You’re incredibly fortunate to have Jack by your side, but you could handle Birdie alone, and so could he. She’s worth all the pain in the world that got you both to the place of being her parents.

You bring her back to your chest and soak in her snuggly body and soft baby noises. You kiss her downy hair and keep your hands secure on her back.

“One day, I’m gonna tell you all about how you got here,” you say softly. “Just know for now that it was all very special and very precious, just like you, little Birdie, and that Mommy and Daddy love you very much.”

end author's note: wow the baby is here and I feel like I gave birth myself bc this series is such a labor of love lol. original Doctor Google was meant to be a one-shot, so thank you to everyone who believed in this story's potential and politely asked for more <3 pls let me know what you want to see from this story! (requests are open for that) after hearing about when s3 of The Pitt is going to be set, it is safe to say I will probably never reference canon again (at least in a big way), so pretty much anything is possible over here. thank you guys so much for reading! I know I have no schedule for this series at all and that can be annoying, so anyone loyally reading along is a fucking G in my book. for anyone who ever feels like you're annoying leaving persistent comments, whether it's an emoji or a more thoughtful comment, I guarantee you that you are not annoying, and in fact are someone I look forward to getting notifications from. I'm crazy; I see everything. ily all and pls be well <3

p.s. for anyone who is curious: Birdie is a virgo sun, cancer moon, and leo rising

All works taglist:  @person-005 @madpanda75 @tearsweetenedtea @canonisoptional @xoxoloverb @saralovesjoelmiller @youknowiloveyou-so

All Shawn Hatosy works taglist: @realwhoreforfictionalmen  @ezmina98 @hehehehahahohohuhu @janeety @jennataurus @esmemia16 @rumoured-whispers @1dhoe93 @dopeasope

Jack Abbot taglist: @michasia24 @its--fandom--darling @staygoldsquatchling02 @starstruckl @overthyme24 @hoziersguitarr @thehockeynerd30 @louisbelongstome28

Doctor Google taglist: @itsmycorneroftheinternet @myhopefulcollectionqueenfan-blog @karleyyyjaeee @laughsandlivia @babyspiceeeeeeee @merlin-288 @cari87 @kidd3ath @saralovesjoelmiller @agamayayayaya @nyxmoretti @ubiquitous-corvids @bookluver14 @thehockeynerd30 @cafereads @sukunasnumberoneslut @imaginesnnerd @whatliesaheadmatters

p.s. if you would like to be removed from any taglist, just let me know! and if you would like to join a taglist or change your current preferences, click here! <3

[madpanda75]

Omg!!!

[dreamedaboutitinthedark]

right???

tyyy for reading and reblogging ily 💞💞🫶🫶

[dreamedaboutitinthedark]

Doctor Dad

Summary: You bring your daughter into the world with Jack's help. Literally.

Pairing: Jack Abbot x Pregnant!Reader

Content warnings: MDNI, Al-Hashimi and Dana cameos, anxiety, labor (positive experience for Baby Mama ((with the exception of one ignorant nurse)) b/c I love her and could never let anything awful happen to her that doesn't serve the storyline), Jack is an excellent advocate/support person, epidural is used as well as other methods of pain relief, possible medical inaccuracies, childbirth, fluff, baby is named but is given a silly and cute nickname that she will be referred to as going forward (y'all voted on this)

Word count: 6,131

Series Masterlist | Read on ao3 here | dividers by @/lariesographic

Author's note: the things I know about labor and childbirth now... I'm not traumatized b/c I'm mature, but this is lowk more than I wanted to know at this stage of my life. some of this stuff is random things I learned from the TikTok for you page, and then some of it came from very detailed Google searches, and some is from birth stories I watched on YouTube. I tried watching birth vlogs, but some of these dads seemed evil, so I couldn't do it, plus it was kind of scary for me, so yeah. anyways I hope you enjoy b/c this series has lowkey become my baby so pls lmk what you think and here's your reminder that reblogs (empty or not) are good for your health! ily thank you for being here pls enjoy! <3

additional note: if you are on any of the taglists here and don't reblog this post after liking/commenting, you are getting side eyed hard.

40 weeks and two days. In other words, hell. That’s the state you’re currently in.

You just had to all but push Jack out the door to go to work, but he’s gone. Sure, you told him to go, but now you’re bored. You’ve watched all of Adam Sandler’s and Queen Latifah’s movies, so now you’re not even sure what to put on the TV.

Eventually, you decide to put on an episode of Shameless, and once you’ve got all your snacks and two drinks nearby, you’re ready to camp out on the couch for the foreseeable future.

//

At noon, Jack’s left hand can’t stop tapping against his leg while he fills out a chart on one of the computers in the hub. His mind can’t get off of you, and he was just a little uncharacteristically harsh on one of the residents. He prides himself on his stern but empathetic approach; he hasn’t snapped at anyone in years.

Al-Hashimi walks over, calmly, with no readable expression on her face. She leans over, elbows on the countertop.

“Whitaker will get over it,” she says softly. “So there’s no need for you to feel this bad about it.”

Jack looks up at Al-Hashimi through his lashes.

“You said your wife’s due date was September third, correct?” she asks.

Jack looks back at the computer and nods. “Yeah.”

“It’s the fifth.”

“I know,” he says, a little annoyed and snippy. He sighs and looks at her again. “Sorry.” 

Al-Hashimi sighs and considers her words for a moment. “My ex was the same way before I had my son. This isn’t an abnormal reaction to waiting for your baby to be born. The doctor tells you the due date, and even though we all know babies come on their own schedules, you expect them to come when they’re ‘supposed to.’”

Jack finally logs out of the computer and leans back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest.

“Am I wrong to suspect your wife all but kicked you out today because you were maybe a little overbearing?” Al-Hashimi ventures.

Jack’s brows furrow. “What do you mean?”

“You’re a passionate man, Abbot,” Al-Hashimi says, seemingly holding back a smile. “And while your wife definitely loves you, she’s uncomfortable, and at this point, overdue. The last thing she needs is a husband who won’t bend to her will because of his own anxiety.”

Jack frowns. 

“I bend,” he mutters under his breath.

Al-Hashimi grins. “I’m sure. I just mean to say, she needs you to be relaxed and amenable, not tense and rigid.”

Okay, maybe she’s got a point. He can’t imagine what it feels like to have an entire baby pushing his lungs out of the way and fuck with his center of gravity. You need him to be calm and willing to do what makes you happy and comfortable.

Jack nods and sighs. 

“You’re right. I need to relax more,” he says.

Al-Hashimi smiles softer now. “You’re going to be a great father. We’ll miss you on paternity leave.”

Jack perks up at that. “Eh, you’ll all manage. I might bring the baby by for you all to meet once she’s big enough.”

“We’d all love that.”

Just then, Dana calls Jack’s name.

“Abbot, I got your wife on the phone,” she calls out.

Without missing a beat, Jack’s out of his chair and heading over to Dana, who’s got the hospital landline in her hand.

“Sweetheart?” he speaks into the receiver.

“Hi, I didn’t want to take the chance of you missing the call on your personal phone.”

“That’s fine. Are you okay?”

You pause on the other line for a moment.

“Um,” you begin. “I think I’m in early labor. Contractions every eight minutes, 30 seconds long. I think I had the bloody show or whatever that stuff is.”

Jack’s heart is in his throat. When he tries to talk, he can’t. He clears his throat and sighs. 

“Okay,” he says. “How’s the pain?”

You sigh. “Uh, like day two period cramps, but I’ll live.”

Jack rubs his temple. “Okay. You want me home, I take it?”

“Yes,” you say quickly. “Please. As fast as you can, but don’t drive like a maniac; I’m okay so far.”

Jack nods even though you can’t see him. “Okay, I’ll leave now. You got this, sweetheart. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

When you hang up, Jack hands the phone back to Dana, his eyes wild.

“Whoa, is it baby time?” she asks him, one hand on his forearm to steady him.

He nods, his body gearing up to be your rock for the foreseeable future.

“Yeah,” he says, panting like he just ran ten laps around the E.D. “She’s in early labor. Eight minutes apart, thirty seconds long.”

“Okay,” Dana says calmly. “Al-Hashimi can handle things on her own down here until another attending gets here. And besides, we’ve got all our best residents today, so you’re leaving everyone in good hands, Abbot.”

“Right. Yeah, I know,” he breathes.

Dana pats his arm.

“I’ll call Dr. Rosen in. Good luck, Dad,” she says as she steps back over to her workstation.

Jack mumbles a ‘thanks’ as he starts moving on autopilot. He makes a beeline for the locker room to grab his bag and then heads straight for the parking lot.

He’s prepared for this moment in his last few therapy sessions. He just has to drive back home, ask you what you want from him, and do exactly that.

//

When he pulls into the driveway, he takes a minute to compose himself. As soon as he walks through the front door, he’ll be a rock, completely steady and dependable for you. His only priority is you and the baby.

After some deep breaths, he shuts the truck off and grabs his things before heading inside.

“Sweetheart?” he calls out as he locks the front door behind him.

“I’m in the kitchen,” you call out.

Jack drops his bag on the floor and pads into the kitchen to find you making sandwiches.

“Are you hungry?” you ask, looking up at him momentarily.

He smiles softly and walks up to you, wrapping his arms around your waist and pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“How’re you feeling?” he asks.

“Okay still,” you say as you cut both sandwiches diagonally. “I just had a contraction right before you walked in.”

Another kiss to your cheek. “Any progress?”

“No, it’s the same as when I called you.”

“Okay, um, do you want to sit at the table or on the couch?” he asks softly, stepping back to take both plates.

“Couch,” you decide.

He leads the way, setting both plates on the coffee table so he can help you get comfortable on the couch. Once you say you’re good, he hands you your plate and sits next to you.

After a minute of realizing what’s going on on the TV screen, Jack’s brows furrow.

“Wait, this fifteen-year-old is gay, and his hookup of choice is a 35-year-old?” he asks, looking from the screen to you.

You snort. “Yeah, but later in the show he gets with an age-appropriate guy, so it’s–” You sigh and clear your throat. “Fuck, that hurts. Anyways, this guy’s gonna be okay.”

Jack’s eyes go to his watch to time the contraction, his right hand offering itself to you, which you gladly take.

“I don’t even get to yell at you and tell you this is all your fault; I did this completely to myself,” you sigh as the contraction wanes.

Jack smiles sympathetically and brings your knuckles to his lips.

“Yell at me all you want,” he says softly. “You’re doing an incredible thing here for both of us, 

After lunch, Jack changes clothes and removes his prosthesis when he gets back to the couch. The two of you stay there for a couple of hours, softly talking over the TV as the contractions grow more intense.

“You’re doing good, sweetheart,” he mutters softly when another one comes. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you mutter softly, your grip easing up as the contraction lessens. “Can I sit on your lap?”

He’s a little surprised, but he nods anyway and scooches all the way back to the corner of the sectional, his legs straight in front of him. You lower yourself onto his lap, your back to the plush arm of the couch, one hand resting on Jack’s shoulder farthest from you, the other on your belly.

Jack joins hands with you on your belly and drapes his other arm around your shoulders.

“I’ve narrowed down my favorite names,” you say softly, head tucked under his chin.

“Let’s hear ‘em.”

“Vivian. Felicity. Colette. Amelie. And Charlotte has grown on me.”

“I’m happy with those,” he says softly. 

You press a soft kiss to Jack’s chest. “We’ll know when we see her.”

Jack hums in agreement and kisses the top of your head. 

//

Around 6:00 PM, things feel more intense. You’ve had contractions every 5 minutes, each lasting a minute, for the last half hour.

After asking what you want to do, Jack helps you to the car, triple-checking that the bags are in the trunk and that the baby’s car seat is in place. Before heading to the hospital, he goes through a Dairy Queen drive-thru, and the two of you eat dinner in your car. 

When you’re done, you start really making your way to the hospital. 

Triage goes well. Both you and the baby have good vital signs, contractions are consistent, and the cervical exam confirms that you are four and a half centimeters dilated. 

Check-in is easy, but it causes some anxiety. It’s all real. This is really happening. The baby you’ve wanted since you were a little girl playing with dolls is about to come into the world. You want her. You wanted her so badly, you made her all by yourself, and she’s about to come.

You’re about to get hooked up to monitors that tell you she’s really coming.

Jack holds your hand as the two of you are led to a room.

You hand the hospital gown back to the nurse in the interest of wearing the birthing gown you bought online after it was recommended to you by your cousin after she had her baby. The nurse, Rhiannon, hooks up the fetal monitor to your belly, though this one is sticky and allows for movement rather than the belts you’d seen on TV shows before.

“Okay, last thing is an IV, or what we can do is an IV port that isn’t connected to any tubes or wires until you decide that maybe you need an epidural or we end up needing to administer a different type of medication,” Rhiannon says as she readies her equipment. “Either way, I’ve gotta poke you.”

“Port sounds good.” You hand Rhiannon your arm with the best veins and turn your head toward Jack, who’s looking at you with the same awe he had in his eyes the first time he saw you naked and when you put his wedding ring on him in the courthouse.

As Rhiannon gets to work, she asks, “Do you know what you’re having?” in an easy voice, clearly confident in her ability to multitask.

“A girl,” you answer, smiling at Jack.

He reaches out a hand to tuck your hair behind your ear, his thumb caressing your cheekbone.

“Yay,” Rhiannon says, clearly smiling. “I love girls. I have two nieces. You guys are gonna love having a girl. Um, how long have the two of you been together?”

“Um,” both you and Jack say at the same time.

You laugh softly. “We got married about a month ago. We met, like, over three years ago when I moved in next door.”

“Neighbors to lovers, that’s so cute,” Rhiannon says as she finishes up. “Okay. I skimmed over your file before I walked in, but I think I remember seeing you wanted to wait on the epidural for freedom of movement, correct?”

You nod as you turn over to look at your nurse. “Yeah, that’s right.”

Rhiannon nods. “Okay, well, as soon as you do want it, if you end up wanting it, just press the call button, and I’ll come in, and we’ll find the anesthesiologist, okay? Perfect. Good luck, and I’ll check back in later.”

Then it’s just you and Jack, and a contraction hits almost as soon as the door shuts, and your fingernails dig into his skin.

He leans his forehead against yours, and with his free hand, he gently scratches your scalp.

Since you’ve stopped being able to talk through the contractions, he’s stopped talking to you during them. For one, you can’t answer, even if he is just praising you, and for two, he can only imagine how annoying the sound of his voice is going to get towards the end of this anyway, so he’ll keep his mouth shut as much as he can.

As the contraction wanes, you loosen your grip on Jack’s hand and let out a soft sigh.

“You okay?” he asks after a moment.

You nod and smile tiredly at him. “I love you.”

Jack smiles and pecks your lips. “I love you, too. I’m gonna dim the lights, okay? That sound good?”

You nod again.

He kisses your forehead before he stands and dims all the lights. It’s about 8:30 at night, so things are naturally winding down with the exception of your uterus and cervix.

When you’re satisfied with the lighting, you hold your hand out. Jack sits on the edge of the bed and takes your hand, putting his free hand on your belly.

“You’re doing really good, sweetheart,” he tells you, his expression one of sincerity and love. “You’re handling everything really well. I’m so proud of you.”

You smile and lean your forehead on his shoulder, sitting with your legs crisscross, your left knee brushing against his left thigh clad in soft sweatpants.

Jack tilts his head down to kiss your hair, his left hand gently brushing up and down your back.

“You wanna switch positions soon?” he asks softly.

You nod and look over at the birthing ball in the corner. He heads to the corner to bring the ball to the middle of the room, then helps you stand from the bed, a gentle hand at the small of your back as he leads you toward the ball. You take both his hands as you lower yourself onto the ball.

“Feel okay?” he asks softly, crouching in front of you, hands on your knees, fingertips brushing yours.

“Yeah,” you mutter softly.

You cup his jaw with both hands and lean in to kiss him. You can tell it surprises him at first, and you can’t really blame him, but after a few seconds, he starts reciprocating, his hands sliding up the length of your thighs to rest on your hips while you gently sway them on the ball.

When he hears you moan, out of pain and not pleasure, he pulls back, but you lean back in. 

Jack lets you take the lead. As soon as you pull him back in, he’s back to kissing you with all the love in his heart. His hands on your hips press in, hoping the counterpressure will help.

Once the contraction passes, you pull back, eyes glazed over as you look at him.

“The article I sent you a few weeks ago,” you say breathlessly. “On kissing and oxytocin and labor and stuff. Sorry, I thought you remembered.”

Realization hits him quickly.

“Oh,” he sighs, smiling softly. “Okay, I remember now. I’ll kiss you all you want.”

//

A few hours go by pretty peacefully. At around 9:15, Rhiannon comes in to do a cervical check and tells you you’re at six centimeters. She cracks a few jokes, keeping things light, and when she leaves, you tell Jack to make a reminder to nominate her for a DAISY award when you get home.

Around 11:30, the contractions pick up in intensity. In the middle of the room, you stand with your arms around Jack’s neck, face buried into his chest. He keeps his hands on your hips to deliver counterpressure during contractions, now two and a half minutes apart.

There’s a knock on the door, and the nurse who walks through isn’t Rhiannon.

“Hi,” she says. “Rhiannon is otherwise occupied at the moment, so I’ll be doing your cervical check. My name is Jane.”

She snaps some gloves on, and as you try to peel yourself off of Jack to greet the new nurse, another contraction hits. This one steals your breath and pulls an almost animalistic moan from your throat. You dig your fingernails into the back of Jack’s neck, but he doesn’t waver.

“Oh, honey, why don’t you just get the epidural already?” Jane asks. “There’s absolutely no reason for you to feel the need to cause all that ruckus and scratch up your husband’s neck. I’ll call the anesthesiologist.”

All this from your knockoff of Rhiannon before the contraction is even over, mind you. Jack doesn’t miss a beat.

“There’s absolutely no need for that,” he says immediately, hands still steady on your body. “If my wife wants an epidural, she’ll ask for one, and she certainly doesn’t need you to make decisions about her body without even giving her time to think. Now, if you don’t mind, she’ll opt out of the cervical check for now. We’re happy to wait for Rhiannon.”

Eventually, you hear the door open and close, and once the contraction is over, you look up at Jack.

What a man.

“Am I really scratching up your neck?” you ask with a soft and feeble voice. “Or being too loud?”

He shakes his head. “No, of course not, and don’t worry about it anymore.”

You sigh softly and press your cheek to his chest.

“Could you do the cervical check?” you ask. “I feel like I should be further along, and I don’t wanna wait to find out.”

It’s a little bit surprising to hear this request, but if he’s going to catch the baby in a few hours, he can definitely check to see how dilated you are. Hopefully you’re nearing the end, and he can inspire some motivation with the news.

He nods and kisses your forehead.

“Yeah, sweetheart. Let’s get you back on the bed for a second,” he says softly as he guides you back toward the bed.

Once he’s got you in a good position, he heads to the counter and takes some sterile gloves, then heads back to the bed where he takes a look, and for about a minute, he’s both your husband and a doctor.

“I do want an epidural,” you say breathily while Jack checks you. “I just want to be the one to ask for it. I’m asking for it, Jack. Unless you say I’m at a ten, I’m asking for a fucking epidural.”

Jack nods and looks up at you, simultaneously pulling the gloves off.

“You’re at a seven. Do you want me to step out and ask for you?” he asks.

If you press the call button, fucking Jane might come back in, and hers is the last face you want to see even if you didn’t get a good look at it.

You nod and reach for his hand, another contraction building. He lets you pull him in for a kiss, doing anything you can to minimize the pain before you get some real relief.

It’s somewhat strange, kissing you in this situation. It’s not doing anything for him in the way kisses this passionate usually do, but it’s causing another emotion entirely. 

You’re so in control, and he’ll do anything to make sure you keep that. He’ll kiss you through the pain, he’ll rub your hips, he’ll let you scratch up his skin, he’ll tell off a nurse for you. Anything you want. The admiration he has for you right now is unlike anything ever before.

You’re such an incredible woman; he already knew that. But witnessing you bring life into this world and stay so strong through it all is strengthening his feelings toward you. Not that they ever faltered.

When it’s over, you pull back, and Jack exits the room as quickly as possible. Thankfully, the first nurse he sees at the nurse’s station is one he knows.

“Hey, Abbot,” she greets as he approaches.

He smiles but gets right to the point. “My wife wants an epidural. Where’s the anesthesiologist?"

“Uh, she’s finishing up with a patient right now, but there’s no one else waiting. Do you know how many centimeters she was at the last cervical check?”

“Seven, just a few minutes ago.”

The nurse nods. “Okay, I’ll send her in in a few minutes.”

He quickly thanks the nurse and heads back to your room, making it just in time for your next contraction. 

Just as he walks through the door, you reach your hand out, whimpering softly. He grabs your hand and reaches around with his free one to rub your back.

This time, he kisses you, moaning softly against you every so often to get your mind literally anywhere else besides this room.

When it’s over, and you lean your forehead against his, he tells you that the epidural is on its way.

“You’re doing really good, sweetheart,” he says softly. “I’ve seen lots of labors and deliveries, but this… It’s incredible. You’re doing such a hard thing so amazingly.” He pauses and kisses your cheek. “I’m more in love with you, and I didn’t think that was possible. You’re gonna be such a good mom. I know it. Our baby girl’s so lucky to have you.”

A silent tear falls down your cheek, brow furrowed as you focus on his face, every wrinkle, every freckle, every short hair of his stubbly beard and the smooth and gravelly sound of his voice.

Jack doesn’t tell you not to cry. He just smiles softly and wordlessly wipes your tears with the back of his knuckle.

“I love you,” he whispers. “I’m so lucky to be here.”

You shake your head and reach out to cup his cheek. 

“It’s not luck, Jack,” you say softly, your voice thick with emotion. “I chose you. You chose me and this baby, and I chose you back.”

He leans in for another kiss. This one just because, not particularly for pain relief, even if that’s an added plus.

You breathe him in, and take his hand and guide it to the side of your bump. He feels your skin tighten underneath his palm with another contraction. He keeps his hand perfectly still, hoping not to overstimulate you, and keeps kissing you.

After it passes, you stand with Jack again, only this time with your back to his chest. He holds your belly up for you one last time, taking the weight off your back for you, his lips pressed to your hair as the two of you slowly sway. You rest your palms on his forearms and stare across the room at the baby warmer, empty for now.

Soon, the anesthesiologist comes in and sets up for the epidural. She lets Jack stay in the room for the procedure and instructs him to stand in front of you, hands in yours.

Once it’s administered, and you’re in a comfortable position on your side, and the room is cleared, Jack turns off almost all the lights. He brings one of the chairs up to your bedside and holds your hand.

Within a few minutes, the epidural kicks in, and your eyes start to droop.

“Feeling good?” he asks softly, bringing a hand to cup your belly over the blanket.

You nod, a happy smile on your face. “Yeah, I can finally sleep now.”

Jack pulls his phone out of his pocket and props it up against your water bottle on the side table to record a video.

You cover his hand on your bump and admire the sight of your wedding rings and hospital bracelets brushing against each other.

“What are you most excited about becoming a mom?” he asks softly.

You hum thoughtfully. 

“Shaping a person,” you say. “Showing her things and watching her form her own opinions on them.”

Jack smiles and nods along.

“What about you?” you ask.

Jack sighs and chews on the inside of his cheek. “Probably the same. Just getting to witness her and see her grow and learn and experience the world.”

You smile brightly at him, and he leans in to peck your lips.

“Okay, last chance for betting,” he says.

You giggle softly and shut your eyes as you think, then open them again.

“She’ll come after 6:00 AM, seven pounds and ten ounces, 19 inches long. That’s my guess,” you say. 

“My guess is before 6:00 AM, eight pounds and one ounce, 20 inches long.”

You smile. “Either way, I’m excited to meet her.”

“Me, too,” Jack says softly, reaching out to tuck your hair behind your ear. “I already love her like crazy.”

Your smile widens, and you squeeze his hand. “I know. She’s gonna be perfect.”

“Yeah,” he whispers. “Just like you.”

He leans in to peck your lips, and before he pulls away, you mumble out an “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” Then he stops the video and puts his phone in his pocket. 

“You wanna get some rest?” he asks softly, his hand moving from your hair to your cheek, his thumb brushing back and forth against your skin.

You nod. “I love you, baby.”

Jack leans in for another kiss. “I love you, too, sweetheart. I’ll stay right here.”

“Take your prosthesis off,” you remind him.

He nods and leans back in his chair and pulls his pant leg up. Once it’s off, he places it out of the way but still in reach. By the time he looks back at you, your breathing is deeper. 

He smiles and leans down to kiss your bump for possibly the last time.

“I’ll see you soon, baby girl,” he whispers.

//

At almost 3:30 AM, Rhiannon comes back in for another cervical check.

Jack wakes first.

“Hi,” she says, speaking softly. “It’s time for another cervical check.” She snaps on some sterile gloves. “I find that it’s better for you to wake her up than me.”

Jack nods and gently rubs your shoulder to wake you. He presses a kiss to your cheek and whispers for you to wake up.

Your eyes flutter and land on Jack.

“Rhiannon’s back to check your dilation,” he says softly.

You nod, and Rhiannon helps you turn over on your back while Jack puts his prosthesis back on.

When she’s done checking you over, Rhiannon smiles.

“It’s baby time,” she says as she pulls the gloves off. “I saw in your chart that you wanted to use the squat bar, lower your epidural dose to push, and that if there were no complications that you wanted Jack to catch the baby. Still good with all that?”

You nod, yawning softly.

Rhiannon gets everything ready, and soon the bed is modified to accommodate the squat bar. Your OB-GYN, who was thankfully working the night shift, comes in, along with a second nurse, and suddenly, you’re just waiting for the next contraction so you can push.

You were a little nervous that pushing would take hours, but after only about 40 minutes of pushing and grunting and Jack whispering praise in your ear, your doctor smiles.

“Abbot, it’s your turn,” she says as she steps to the side.

You turn your face toward Jack, sweat dotting your hairline but the biggest sparkle of excitement in your eyes. You lean in for a peck, and Jack whispers, “I love you, sweetheart.”

“I love you, too,” you sniffle, smiling brightly.

Jack gets into position, your OB behind him, clearly monitoring the situation, but Jack’s delivered hundreds of babies, even just delivered one last week, so she’s not too worried about him biting off more than he can chew here.

Once he’s got sterile gloves on, he gets his hands into position.

“Alright, sweetheart,” he sighs, letting the doctor inside of him take over just a bit, though it’s clear the man in front of you is still your husband first and foremost. “On the next contraction, give me a big push.”

Rhiannon counts for you as you push. You white-knuckle the squat bar and breathe deeper than you ever have as you bear down.

“Good, good, good,” Jack mutters softly, his hands on the baby’s head, holding back tears by the grace of God. “You’re doing so good, sweetheart.”

With a soft whimper, you take a break from pushing.

“You’re doing great,” your doctor says from behind Jack. “Less than five pushes, I’d say.”

You nod and focus on your breathing.

“You wanna feel her hair?” Jack asks. “She’s got a lot.”

“Mhm,” you hum softly, the lack of sleep catching up to you.

Jack takes your hand and guides it between your legs.

“That’s not me?” you joke.

The entire room lets out a soft chuckle, with the exception of Rhiannon, who snorts softly into her shoulder.

“No,” Jack says, eyes crinkling as he smiles. “That’s our baby; she’s got a lotta hair.”

You smile and take a steadying breath as another contraction builds.

“Okay, sweetheart, you got this,” he says softly, growing serious again as he focuses on the baby.

That push delivers the head.

“Perfect,” Jack praises. “Just a couple more, sweetheart, let’s get the shoulders out.”

Two pushes later, the air is pierced by a sharp but oddly beautiful cry.

“She sounds kind of like a bird,” someone remarks. “So cute!”

You let out a sob of relief and hold your hands out as Jack places her on your chest.

Looking down at the squirming infant is all it takes to fall completely in love with her.

“Hi, baby girl,” you coo at her, holding your hands over her back so she doesn’t get cold. “Hi. Hi, sweetie. I’m your mama.”

At some point, Jack has moved from your legs and peeled his gloves off because now you feel his hand on your shoulder and hear him whispering in your ear, “You did so good.”

The baby continues to cry, but seems to begin to settle on your chest.

“Wow, you’re really here,” you whisper, tears streaming down your face uncontrollably. “I love you so much, beautiful baby girl.”

You look up at Jack on instinct, and tears are streaming down his face. He kisses your temple, then gently gives the baby his finger so she can wrap her first around it.

“Hi, baby girl,” he whispers. “I’m your daddy.” He sniffs. “Wow, you look just like your mom, sweetie.”

At the sound of her daddy’s voice, the cries die down into softer whimpers, still mad about leaving her warm home, but obviously happy Mom and Dad are near.

You press your lips against her head, uncaring about all the gunk on her head.

“Oh, God, she’s amazing,” you sigh, eyes shutting for a moment as you soak it all in.

You look over at Jack, and he smooths your hair back.

“You did incredible,” he whispers, eyes red-rimmed as he lets his tears fall.

You smile and blink out your own tears. “I love you. Thank you for catching her.”

Jack smiles back and kisses your cheek, then you turn to kiss his lips.

After another moment, you feel the need to push again. You swear softly under your breath and gently push on instinct. After about a minute, you vaguely hear your doctor tell you the placenta’s out, and you sigh relieved again.

“You’re all done,” Jack tells you. “You both did amazing.”

Once the cord turns white, Jack cuts it, and a few minutes later, the second nurse takes the baby over to the warmer to do some testing.

You send Jack over after he takes his shirt off, excited to see him actually hold the baby for the first time.

Jack stands near the baby warmer, eyes following his daughter’s every move as the nurse weighs, measures, and does everything else.

“Okay,” the nurse sighs, smiling at the screen that says all the levels are good. “Baby Abbot is seven pounds and eight ounces and 19 inches long. Five-minute APGAR score of ten. Congratulations. Jack, you can hold her now.”

Excitedly but carefully, Jack reaches his hands around the baby’s body and brings her to his chest. The nurse helps him cover her with a blanket, then he walks over to the chair by your bed.

Once everything else is determined to be okay, everyone leaves the room with soft whisperings of congratulations.

Jack sighs and smiles at you with all the love in his heart.

“You’re both incredible,” he says. “I’m in awe of you.”

You smile tiredly and sigh contentedly. “I’m so fucking happy.”

Jack smiles again, then stands and hands the baby back to you.

Soon, a lactation consultant comes in and helps you and the baby figure out the latch. Once you get the hang of it, you’re left alone again.

“Charlotte,” you say softly, looking at the baby.

Jack nods, the back of his finger caressing her cheek. “Charlotte Vivian Abbot?”

He looks to you to gauge your reaction. You smile.

“I like that,” you mutter softly.

Charlotte Vivian Abbot. Seven pounds and eight ounces. 19 inches long. Born at 4:26 AM on September 6, 2026.

Perfection in a very small package.

//

You and Jack manage to sleep for close to an hour before the baby is restless. After nursing, you’re starving, but luckily, Rhiannon brings you some breakfast before her shift ends.

“It’s not the best food, so if you’ve got people coming, you should ask them to bring you some food. Though, you can get food delivered, too. Anyway, my shift is ending, but I wanted to tell the little birdie and her sweet parents goodbye,” she says.

You smile and look down at the baby. 

“Birdie,” you muse. “That’s cute.” Then you look back at Rhiannon. “You’ve been really incredible. I can’t thank you enough.”

Rhiannon smiles and shrugs. “I’m just happy things went well. You three make a very cute family. Okay, I’ve got a breakfast date, so I’ve gotta go. Bye, guys.”

Then she’s gone.

“Birdie,” you sigh, smiling at the baby. “I like that, it’s cute.”

Jack sends the birth announcement to his parents, your mom and stepdad, his sister, then Robby and Dana.

After that, he puts his phone on “Do Not Disturb” and puts his focus on you and Birdie. A little later, though, he notices a text from his mom asking if it’s okay to call at some point. You say it’s fine, and Jack steps out into the hall, leaving you alone with the baby.

You had put her into a pink onesie so she wouldn’t get cold once the hospital AC started blowing a little too hard for your liking. 

Your little pink baby is finally here. She’s tiny and perfect and yours.

You hold her up by her armpits for just a moment, still supporting her head. The two of you just look at each other for a moment. Her face is scrunched up, but she’s perfect.

It’s hard to put into words how you’re feeling right now. You wanted this baby enough to raise her on your own. Jack is outside the door, but there was once a very real reality where he wasn’t supposed to be. 

And looking at her right now, it’s so clear to you that it would absolutely be worth it to be her mom by yourself. Anything hard that would come with raising her on your own would have been worth it, because the look in your daughter’s eyes that you can’t name is telling you that it all would’ve been okay.

You’re incredibly fortunate to have Jack by your side, but you could handle Birdie alone, and so could he. She’s worth all the pain in the world that got you both to the place of being her parents.

You bring her back to your chest and soak in her snuggly body and soft baby noises. You kiss her downy hair and keep your hands secure on her back.

“One day, I’m gonna tell you all about how you got here,” you say softly. “Just know for now that it was all very special and very precious, just like you, little Birdie, and that Mommy and Daddy love you very much.”

end author's note: wow the baby is here and I feel like I gave birth myself bc this series is such a labor of love lol. original Doctor Google was meant to be a one-shot, so thank you to everyone who believed in this story's potential and politely asked for more <3 pls let me know what you want to see from this story! (requests are open for that) after hearing about when s3 of The Pitt is going to be set, it is safe to say I will probably never reference canon again (at least in a big way), so pretty much anything is possible over here. thank you guys so much for reading! I know I have no schedule for this series at all and that can be annoying, so anyone loyally reading along is a fucking G in my book. for anyone who ever feels like you're annoying leaving persistent comments, whether it's an emoji or a more thoughtful comment, I guarantee you that you are not annoying, and in fact are someone I look forward to getting notifications from. I'm crazy; I see everything. ily all and pls be well <3

p.s. for anyone who is curious: Birdie is a virgo sun, cancer moon, and leo rising

All works taglist:  @person-005 @madpanda75 @tearsweetenedtea @canonisoptional @xoxoloverb @saralovesjoelmiller @youknowiloveyou-so

All Shawn Hatosy works taglist: @realwhoreforfictionalmen  @ezmina98 @hehehehahahohohuhu @janeety @jennataurus @esmemia16 @rumoured-whispers @1dhoe93 @dopeasope

Jack Abbot taglist: @michasia24 @its--fandom--darling @staygoldsquatchling02 @starstruckl @overthyme24 @hoziersguitarr @thehockeynerd30 @louisbelongstome28

Doctor Google taglist: @itsmycorneroftheinternet @myhopefulcollectionqueenfan-blog @karleyyyjaeee @laughsandlivia @babyspiceeeeeeee @merlin-288 @cari87 @kidd3ath @saralovesjoelmiller @agamayayayaya @nyxmoretti @ubiquitous-corvids @bookluver14 @thehockeynerd30 @cafereads @sukunasnumberoneslut @imaginesnnerd @whatliesaheadmatters

p.s. if you would like to be removed from any taglist, just let me know! and if you would like to join a taglist or change your current preferences, click here! <3

[saralovesjoelmiller]

The way I look forward to you posting every single time omg! 🥹 this was beautiful 💖

[dreamedaboutitinthedark]

awww that makes me so happy 😋💞🫂

I’m so happy you enjoyed!!! tysm for reading and reblogging <333

[dreamedaboutitinthedark]

Doctor Dad

Summary: You bring your daughter into the world with Jack's help. Literally.

Pairing: Jack Abbot x Pregnant!Reader

Content warnings: MDNI, Al-Hashimi and Dana cameos, anxiety, labor (positive experience for Baby Mama ((with the exception of one ignorant nurse)) b/c I love her and could never let anything awful happen to her that doesn't serve the storyline), Jack is an excellent advocate/support person, epidural is used as well as other methods of pain relief, possible medical inaccuracies, childbirth, fluff, baby is named but is given a silly and cute nickname that she will be referred to as going forward (y'all voted on this)

Word count: 6,131

Series Masterlist | Read on ao3 here | dividers by @/lariesographic

Author's note: the things I know about labor and childbirth now... I'm not traumatized b/c I'm mature, but this is lowk more than I wanted to know at this stage of my life. some of this stuff is random things I learned from the TikTok for you page, and then some of it came from very detailed Google searches, and some is from birth stories I watched on YouTube. I tried watching birth vlogs, but some of these dads seemed evil, so I couldn't do it, plus it was kind of scary for me, so yeah. anyways I hope you enjoy b/c this series has lowkey become my baby so pls lmk what you think and here's your reminder that reblogs (empty or not) are good for your health! ily thank you for being here pls enjoy! <3

additional note: if you are on any of the taglists here and don't reblog this post after liking/commenting, you are getting side eyed hard.

40 weeks and two days. In other words, hell. That’s the state you’re currently in.

You just had to all but push Jack out the door to go to work, but he’s gone. Sure, you told him to go, but now you’re bored. You’ve watched all of Adam Sandler’s and Queen Latifah’s movies, so now you’re not even sure what to put on the TV.

Eventually, you decide to put on an episode of Shameless, and once you’ve got all your snacks and two drinks nearby, you’re ready to camp out on the couch for the foreseeable future.

//

At noon, Jack’s left hand can’t stop tapping against his leg while he fills out a chart on one of the computers in the hub. His mind can’t get off of you, and he was just a little uncharacteristically harsh on one of the residents. He prides himself on his stern but empathetic approach; he hasn’t snapped at anyone in years.

Al-Hashimi walks over, calmly, with no readable expression on her face. She leans over, elbows on the countertop.

“Whitaker will get over it,” she says softly. “So there’s no need for you to feel this bad about it.”

Jack looks up at Al-Hashimi through his lashes.

“You said your wife’s due date was September third, correct?” she asks.

Jack looks back at the computer and nods. “Yeah.”

“It’s the fifth.”

“I know,” he says, a little annoyed and snippy. He sighs and looks at her again. “Sorry.” 

Al-Hashimi sighs and considers her words for a moment. “My ex was the same way before I had my son. This isn’t an abnormal reaction to waiting for your baby to be born. The doctor tells you the due date, and even though we all know babies come on their own schedules, you expect them to come when they’re ‘supposed to.’”

Jack finally logs out of the computer and leans back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest.

“Am I wrong to suspect your wife all but kicked you out today because you were maybe a little overbearing?” Al-Hashimi ventures.

Jack’s brows furrow. “What do you mean?”

“You’re a passionate man, Abbot,” Al-Hashimi says, seemingly holding back a smile. “And while your wife definitely loves you, she’s uncomfortable, and at this point, overdue. The last thing she needs is a husband who won’t bend to her will because of his own anxiety.”

Jack frowns. 

“I bend,” he mutters under his breath.

Al-Hashimi grins. “I’m sure. I just mean to say, she needs you to be relaxed and amenable, not tense and rigid.”

Okay, maybe she’s got a point. He can’t imagine what it feels like to have an entire baby pushing his lungs out of the way and fuck with his center of gravity. You need him to be calm and willing to do what makes you happy and comfortable.

Jack nods and sighs. 

“You’re right. I need to relax more,” he says.

Al-Hashimi smiles softer now. “You’re going to be a great father. We’ll miss you on paternity leave.”

Jack perks up at that. “Eh, you’ll all manage. I might bring the baby by for you all to meet once she’s big enough.”

“We’d all love that.”

Just then, Dana calls Jack’s name.

“Abbot, I got your wife on the phone,” she calls out.

Without missing a beat, Jack’s out of his chair and heading over to Dana, who’s got the hospital landline in her hand.

“Sweetheart?” he speaks into the receiver.

“Hi, I didn’t want to take the chance of you missing the call on your personal phone.”

“That’s fine. Are you okay?”

You pause on the other line for a moment.

“Um,” you begin. “I think I’m in early labor. Contractions every eight minutes, 30 seconds long. I think I had the bloody show or whatever that stuff is.”

Jack’s heart is in his throat. When he tries to talk, he can’t. He clears his throat and sighs. 

“Okay,” he says. “How’s the pain?”

You sigh. “Uh, like day two period cramps, but I’ll live.”

Jack rubs his temple. “Okay. You want me home, I take it?”

“Yes,” you say quickly. “Please. As fast as you can, but don’t drive like a maniac; I’m okay so far.”

Jack nods even though you can’t see him. “Okay, I’ll leave now. You got this, sweetheart. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

When you hang up, Jack hands the phone back to Dana, his eyes wild.

“Whoa, is it baby time?” she asks him, one hand on his forearm to steady him.

He nods, his body gearing up to be your rock for the foreseeable future.

“Yeah,” he says, panting like he just ran ten laps around the E.D. “She’s in early labor. Eight minutes apart, thirty seconds long.”

“Okay,” Dana says calmly. “Al-Hashimi can handle things on her own down here until another attending gets here. And besides, we’ve got all our best residents today, so you’re leaving everyone in good hands, Abbot.”

“Right. Yeah, I know,” he breathes.

Dana pats his arm.

“I’ll call Dr. Rosen in. Good luck, Dad,” she says as she steps back over to her workstation.

Jack mumbles a ‘thanks’ as he starts moving on autopilot. He makes a beeline for the locker room to grab his bag and then heads straight for the parking lot.

He’s prepared for this moment in his last few therapy sessions. He just has to drive back home, ask you what you want from him, and do exactly that.

//

When he pulls into the driveway, he takes a minute to compose himself. As soon as he walks through the front door, he’ll be a rock, completely steady and dependable for you. His only priority is you and the baby.

After some deep breaths, he shuts the truck off and grabs his things before heading inside.

“Sweetheart?” he calls out as he locks the front door behind him.

“I’m in the kitchen,” you call out.

Jack drops his bag on the floor and pads into the kitchen to find you making sandwiches.

“Are you hungry?” you ask, looking up at him momentarily.

He smiles softly and walks up to you, wrapping his arms around your waist and pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“How’re you feeling?” he asks.

“Okay still,” you say as you cut both sandwiches diagonally. “I just had a contraction right before you walked in.”

Another kiss to your cheek. “Any progress?”

“No, it’s the same as when I called you.”

“Okay, um, do you want to sit at the table or on the couch?” he asks softly, stepping back to take both plates.

“Couch,” you decide.

He leads the way, setting both plates on the coffee table so he can help you get comfortable on the couch. Once you say you’re good, he hands you your plate and sits next to you.

After a minute of realizing what’s going on on the TV screen, Jack’s brows furrow.

“Wait, this fifteen-year-old is gay, and his hookup of choice is a 35-year-old?” he asks, looking from the screen to you.

You snort. “Yeah, but later in the show he gets with an age-appropriate guy, so it’s–” You sigh and clear your throat. “Fuck, that hurts. Anyways, this guy’s gonna be okay.”

Jack’s eyes go to his watch to time the contraction, his right hand offering itself to you, which you gladly take.

“I don’t even get to yell at you and tell you this is all your fault; I did this completely to myself,” you sigh as the contraction wanes.

Jack smiles sympathetically and brings your knuckles to his lips.

“Yell at me all you want,” he says softly. “You’re doing an incredible thing here for both of us, 

After lunch, Jack changes clothes and removes his prosthesis when he gets back to the couch. The two of you stay there for a couple of hours, softly talking over the TV as the contractions grow more intense.

“You’re doing good, sweetheart,” he mutters softly when another one comes. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you mutter softly, your grip easing up as the contraction lessens. “Can I sit on your lap?”

He’s a little surprised, but he nods anyway and scooches all the way back to the corner of the sectional, his legs straight in front of him. You lower yourself onto his lap, your back to the plush arm of the couch, one hand resting on Jack’s shoulder farthest from you, the other on your belly.

Jack joins hands with you on your belly and drapes his other arm around your shoulders.

“I’ve narrowed down my favorite names,” you say softly, head tucked under his chin.

“Let’s hear ‘em.”

“Vivian. Felicity. Colette. Amelie. And Charlotte has grown on me.”

“I’m happy with those,” he says softly. 

You press a soft kiss to Jack’s chest. “We’ll know when we see her.”

Jack hums in agreement and kisses the top of your head. 

//

Around 6:00 PM, things feel more intense. You’ve had contractions every 5 minutes, each lasting a minute, for the last half hour.

After asking what you want to do, Jack helps you to the car, triple-checking that the bags are in the trunk and that the baby’s car seat is in place. Before heading to the hospital, he goes through a Dairy Queen drive-thru, and the two of you eat dinner in your car. 

When you’re done, you start really making your way to the hospital. 

Triage goes well. Both you and the baby have good vital signs, contractions are consistent, and the cervical exam confirms that you are four and a half centimeters dilated. 

Check-in is easy, but it causes some anxiety. It’s all real. This is really happening. The baby you’ve wanted since you were a little girl playing with dolls is about to come into the world. You want her. You wanted her so badly, you made her all by yourself, and she’s about to come.

You’re about to get hooked up to monitors that tell you she’s really coming.

Jack holds your hand as the two of you are led to a room.

You hand the hospital gown back to the nurse in the interest of wearing the birthing gown you bought online after it was recommended to you by your cousin after she had her baby. The nurse, Rhiannon, hooks up the fetal monitor to your belly, though this one is sticky and allows for movement rather than the belts you’d seen on TV shows before.

“Okay, last thing is an IV, or what we can do is an IV port that isn’t connected to any tubes or wires until you decide that maybe you need an epidural or we end up needing to administer a different type of medication,” Rhiannon says as she readies her equipment. “Either way, I’ve gotta poke you.”

“Port sounds good.” You hand Rhiannon your arm with the best veins and turn your head toward Jack, who’s looking at you with the same awe he had in his eyes the first time he saw you naked and when you put his wedding ring on him in the courthouse.

As Rhiannon gets to work, she asks, “Do you know what you’re having?” in an easy voice, clearly confident in her ability to multitask.

“A girl,” you answer, smiling at Jack.

He reaches out a hand to tuck your hair behind your ear, his thumb caressing your cheekbone.

“Yay,” Rhiannon says, clearly smiling. “I love girls. I have two nieces. You guys are gonna love having a girl. Um, how long have the two of you been together?”

“Um,” both you and Jack say at the same time.

You laugh softly. “We got married about a month ago. We met, like, over three years ago when I moved in next door.”

“Neighbors to lovers, that’s so cute,” Rhiannon says as she finishes up. “Okay. I skimmed over your file before I walked in, but I think I remember seeing you wanted to wait on the epidural for freedom of movement, correct?”

You nod as you turn over to look at your nurse. “Yeah, that’s right.”

Rhiannon nods. “Okay, well, as soon as you do want it, if you end up wanting it, just press the call button, and I’ll come in, and we’ll find the anesthesiologist, okay? Perfect. Good luck, and I’ll check back in later.”

Then it’s just you and Jack, and a contraction hits almost as soon as the door shuts, and your fingernails dig into his skin.

He leans his forehead against yours, and with his free hand, he gently scratches your scalp.

Since you’ve stopped being able to talk through the contractions, he’s stopped talking to you during them. For one, you can’t answer, even if he is just praising you, and for two, he can only imagine how annoying the sound of his voice is going to get towards the end of this anyway, so he’ll keep his mouth shut as much as he can.

As the contraction wanes, you loosen your grip on Jack’s hand and let out a soft sigh.

“You okay?” he asks after a moment.

You nod and smile tiredly at him. “I love you.”

Jack smiles and pecks your lips. “I love you, too. I’m gonna dim the lights, okay? That sound good?”

You nod again.

He kisses your forehead before he stands and dims all the lights. It’s about 8:30 at night, so things are naturally winding down with the exception of your uterus and cervix.

When you’re satisfied with the lighting, you hold your hand out. Jack sits on the edge of the bed and takes your hand, putting his free hand on your belly.

“You’re doing really good, sweetheart,” he tells you, his expression one of sincerity and love. “You’re handling everything really well. I’m so proud of you.”

You smile and lean your forehead on his shoulder, sitting with your legs crisscross, your left knee brushing against his left thigh clad in soft sweatpants.

Jack tilts his head down to kiss your hair, his left hand gently brushing up and down your back.

“You wanna switch positions soon?” he asks softly.

You nod and look over at the birthing ball in the corner. He heads to the corner to bring the ball to the middle of the room, then helps you stand from the bed, a gentle hand at the small of your back as he leads you toward the ball. You take both his hands as you lower yourself onto the ball.

“Feel okay?” he asks softly, crouching in front of you, hands on your knees, fingertips brushing yours.

“Yeah,” you mutter softly.

You cup his jaw with both hands and lean in to kiss him. You can tell it surprises him at first, and you can’t really blame him, but after a few seconds, he starts reciprocating, his hands sliding up the length of your thighs to rest on your hips while you gently sway them on the ball.

When he hears you moan, out of pain and not pleasure, he pulls back, but you lean back in. 

Jack lets you take the lead. As soon as you pull him back in, he’s back to kissing you with all the love in his heart. His hands on your hips press in, hoping the counterpressure will help.

Once the contraction passes, you pull back, eyes glazed over as you look at him.

“The article I sent you a few weeks ago,” you say breathlessly. “On kissing and oxytocin and labor and stuff. Sorry, I thought you remembered.”

Realization hits him quickly.

“Oh,” he sighs, smiling softly. “Okay, I remember now. I’ll kiss you all you want.”

//

A few hours go by pretty peacefully. At around 9:15, Rhiannon comes in to do a cervical check and tells you you’re at six centimeters. She cracks a few jokes, keeping things light, and when she leaves, you tell Jack to make a reminder to nominate her for a DAISY award when you get home.

Around 11:30, the contractions pick up in intensity. In the middle of the room, you stand with your arms around Jack’s neck, face buried into his chest. He keeps his hands on your hips to deliver counterpressure during contractions, now two and a half minutes apart.

There’s a knock on the door, and the nurse who walks through isn’t Rhiannon.

“Hi,” she says. “Rhiannon is otherwise occupied at the moment, so I’ll be doing your cervical check. My name is Jane.”

She snaps some gloves on, and as you try to peel yourself off of Jack to greet the new nurse, another contraction hits. This one steals your breath and pulls an almost animalistic moan from your throat. You dig your fingernails into the back of Jack’s neck, but he doesn’t waver.

“Oh, honey, why don’t you just get the epidural already?” Jane asks. “There’s absolutely no reason for you to feel the need to cause all that ruckus and scratch up your husband’s neck. I’ll call the anesthesiologist.”

All this from your knockoff of Rhiannon before the contraction is even over, mind you. Jack doesn’t miss a beat.

“There’s absolutely no need for that,” he says immediately, hands still steady on your body. “If my wife wants an epidural, she’ll ask for one, and she certainly doesn’t need you to make decisions about her body without even giving her time to think. Now, if you don’t mind, she’ll opt out of the cervical check for now. We’re happy to wait for Rhiannon.”

Eventually, you hear the door open and close, and once the contraction is over, you look up at Jack.

What a man.

“Am I really scratching up your neck?” you ask with a soft and feeble voice. “Or being too loud?”

He shakes his head. “No, of course not, and don’t worry about it anymore.”

You sigh softly and press your cheek to his chest.

“Could you do the cervical check?” you ask. “I feel like I should be further along, and I don’t wanna wait to find out.”

It’s a little bit surprising to hear this request, but if he’s going to catch the baby in a few hours, he can definitely check to see how dilated you are. Hopefully you’re nearing the end, and he can inspire some motivation with the news.

He nods and kisses your forehead.

“Yeah, sweetheart. Let’s get you back on the bed for a second,” he says softly as he guides you back toward the bed.

Once he’s got you in a good position, he heads to the counter and takes some sterile gloves, then heads back to the bed where he takes a look, and for about a minute, he’s both your husband and a doctor.

“I do want an epidural,” you say breathily while Jack checks you. “I just want to be the one to ask for it. I’m asking for it, Jack. Unless you say I’m at a ten, I’m asking for a fucking epidural.”

Jack nods and looks up at you, simultaneously pulling the gloves off.

“You’re at a seven. Do you want me to step out and ask for you?” he asks.

If you press the call button, fucking Jane might come back in, and hers is the last face you want to see even if you didn’t get a good look at it.

You nod and reach for his hand, another contraction building. He lets you pull him in for a kiss, doing anything you can to minimize the pain before you get some real relief.

It’s somewhat strange, kissing you in this situation. It’s not doing anything for him in the way kisses this passionate usually do, but it’s causing another emotion entirely. 

You’re so in control, and he’ll do anything to make sure you keep that. He’ll kiss you through the pain, he’ll rub your hips, he’ll let you scratch up his skin, he’ll tell off a nurse for you. Anything you want. The admiration he has for you right now is unlike anything ever before.

You’re such an incredible woman; he already knew that. But witnessing you bring life into this world and stay so strong through it all is strengthening his feelings toward you. Not that they ever faltered.

When it’s over, you pull back, and Jack exits the room as quickly as possible. Thankfully, the first nurse he sees at the nurse’s station is one he knows.

“Hey, Abbot,” she greets as he approaches.

He smiles but gets right to the point. “My wife wants an epidural. Where’s the anesthesiologist?"

“Uh, she’s finishing up with a patient right now, but there’s no one else waiting. Do you know how many centimeters she was at the last cervical check?”

“Seven, just a few minutes ago.”

The nurse nods. “Okay, I’ll send her in in a few minutes.”

He quickly thanks the nurse and heads back to your room, making it just in time for your next contraction. 

Just as he walks through the door, you reach your hand out, whimpering softly. He grabs your hand and reaches around with his free one to rub your back.

This time, he kisses you, moaning softly against you every so often to get your mind literally anywhere else besides this room.

When it’s over, and you lean your forehead against his, he tells you that the epidural is on its way.

“You’re doing really good, sweetheart,” he says softly. “I’ve seen lots of labors and deliveries, but this… It’s incredible. You’re doing such a hard thing so amazingly.” He pauses and kisses your cheek. “I’m more in love with you, and I didn’t think that was possible. You’re gonna be such a good mom. I know it. Our baby girl’s so lucky to have you.”

A silent tear falls down your cheek, brow furrowed as you focus on his face, every wrinkle, every freckle, every short hair of his stubbly beard and the smooth and gravelly sound of his voice.

Jack doesn’t tell you not to cry. He just smiles softly and wordlessly wipes your tears with the back of his knuckle.

“I love you,” he whispers. “I’m so lucky to be here.”

You shake your head and reach out to cup his cheek. 

“It’s not luck, Jack,” you say softly, your voice thick with emotion. “I chose you. You chose me and this baby, and I chose you back.”

He leans in for another kiss. This one just because, not particularly for pain relief, even if that’s an added plus.

You breathe him in, and take his hand and guide it to the side of your bump. He feels your skin tighten underneath his palm with another contraction. He keeps his hand perfectly still, hoping not to overstimulate you, and keeps kissing you.

After it passes, you stand with Jack again, only this time with your back to his chest. He holds your belly up for you one last time, taking the weight off your back for you, his lips pressed to your hair as the two of you slowly sway. You rest your palms on his forearms and stare across the room at the baby warmer, empty for now.

Soon, the anesthesiologist comes in and sets up for the epidural. She lets Jack stay in the room for the procedure and instructs him to stand in front of you, hands in yours.

Once it’s administered, and you’re in a comfortable position on your side, and the room is cleared, Jack turns off almost all the lights. He brings one of the chairs up to your bedside and holds your hand.

Within a few minutes, the epidural kicks in, and your eyes start to droop.

“Feeling good?” he asks softly, bringing a hand to cup your belly over the blanket.

You nod, a happy smile on your face. “Yeah, I can finally sleep now.”

Jack pulls his phone out of his pocket and props it up against your water bottle on the side table to record a video.

You cover his hand on your bump and admire the sight of your wedding rings and hospital bracelets brushing against each other.

“What are you most excited about becoming a mom?” he asks softly.

You hum thoughtfully. 

“Shaping a person,” you say. “Showing her things and watching her form her own opinions on them.”

Jack smiles and nods along.

“What about you?” you ask.

Jack sighs and chews on the inside of his cheek. “Probably the same. Just getting to witness her and see her grow and learn and experience the world.”

You smile brightly at him, and he leans in to peck your lips.

“Okay, last chance for betting,” he says.

You giggle softly and shut your eyes as you think, then open them again.

“She’ll come after 6:00 AM, seven pounds and ten ounces, 19 inches long. That’s my guess,” you say. 

“My guess is before 6:00 AM, eight pounds and one ounce, 20 inches long.”

You smile. “Either way, I’m excited to meet her.”

“Me, too,” Jack says softly, reaching out to tuck your hair behind your ear. “I already love her like crazy.”

Your smile widens, and you squeeze his hand. “I know. She’s gonna be perfect.”

“Yeah,” he whispers. “Just like you.”

He leans in to peck your lips, and before he pulls away, you mumble out an “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” Then he stops the video and puts his phone in his pocket. 

“You wanna get some rest?” he asks softly, his hand moving from your hair to your cheek, his thumb brushing back and forth against your skin.

You nod. “I love you, baby.”

Jack leans in for another kiss. “I love you, too, sweetheart. I’ll stay right here.”

“Take your prosthesis off,” you remind him.

He nods and leans back in his chair and pulls his pant leg up. Once it’s off, he places it out of the way but still in reach. By the time he looks back at you, your breathing is deeper. 

He smiles and leans down to kiss your bump for possibly the last time.

“I’ll see you soon, baby girl,” he whispers.

//

At almost 3:30 AM, Rhiannon comes back in for another cervical check.

Jack wakes first.

“Hi,” she says, speaking softly. “It’s time for another cervical check.” She snaps on some sterile gloves. “I find that it’s better for you to wake her up than me.”

Jack nods and gently rubs your shoulder to wake you. He presses a kiss to your cheek and whispers for you to wake up.

Your eyes flutter and land on Jack.

“Rhiannon’s back to check your dilation,” he says softly.

You nod, and Rhiannon helps you turn over on your back while Jack puts his prosthesis back on.

When she’s done checking you over, Rhiannon smiles.

“It’s baby time,” she says as she pulls the gloves off. “I saw in your chart that you wanted to use the squat bar, lower your epidural dose to push, and that if there were no complications that you wanted Jack to catch the baby. Still good with all that?”

You nod, yawning softly.

Rhiannon gets everything ready, and soon the bed is modified to accommodate the squat bar. Your OB-GYN, who was thankfully working the night shift, comes in, along with a second nurse, and suddenly, you’re just waiting for the next contraction so you can push.

You were a little nervous that pushing would take hours, but after only about 40 minutes of pushing and grunting and Jack whispering praise in your ear, your doctor smiles.

“Abbot, it’s your turn,” she says as she steps to the side.

You turn your face toward Jack, sweat dotting your hairline but the biggest sparkle of excitement in your eyes. You lean in for a peck, and Jack whispers, “I love you, sweetheart.”

“I love you, too,” you sniffle, smiling brightly.

Jack gets into position, your OB behind him, clearly monitoring the situation, but Jack’s delivered hundreds of babies, even just delivered one last week, so she’s not too worried about him biting off more than he can chew here.

Once he’s got sterile gloves on, he gets his hands into position.

“Alright, sweetheart,” he sighs, letting the doctor inside of him take over just a bit, though it’s clear the man in front of you is still your husband first and foremost. “On the next contraction, give me a big push.”

Rhiannon counts for you as you push. You white-knuckle the squat bar and breathe deeper than you ever have as you bear down.

“Good, good, good,” Jack mutters softly, his hands on the baby’s head, holding back tears by the grace of God. “You’re doing so good, sweetheart.”

With a soft whimper, you take a break from pushing.

“You’re doing great,” your doctor says from behind Jack. “Less than five pushes, I’d say.”

You nod and focus on your breathing.

“You wanna feel her hair?” Jack asks. “She’s got a lot.”

“Mhm,” you hum softly, the lack of sleep catching up to you.

Jack takes your hand and guides it between your legs.

“That’s not me?” you joke.

The entire room lets out a soft chuckle, with the exception of Rhiannon, who snorts softly into her shoulder.

“No,” Jack says, eyes crinkling as he smiles. “That’s our baby; she’s got a lotta hair.”

You smile and take a steadying breath as another contraction builds.

“Okay, sweetheart, you got this,” he says softly, growing serious again as he focuses on the baby.

That push delivers the head.

“Perfect,” Jack praises. “Just a couple more, sweetheart, let’s get the shoulders out.”

Two pushes later, the air is pierced by a sharp but oddly beautiful cry.

“She sounds kind of like a bird,” someone remarks. “So cute!”

You let out a sob of relief and hold your hands out as Jack places her on your chest.

Looking down at the squirming infant is all it takes to fall completely in love with her.

“Hi, baby girl,” you coo at her, holding your hands over her back so she doesn’t get cold. “Hi. Hi, sweetie. I’m your mama.”

At some point, Jack has moved from your legs and peeled his gloves off because now you feel his hand on your shoulder and hear him whispering in your ear, “You did so good.”

The baby continues to cry, but seems to begin to settle on your chest.

“Wow, you’re really here,” you whisper, tears streaming down your face uncontrollably. “I love you so much, beautiful baby girl.”

You look up at Jack on instinct, and tears are streaming down his face. He kisses your temple, then gently gives the baby his finger so she can wrap her first around it.

“Hi, baby girl,” he whispers. “I’m your daddy.” He sniffs. “Wow, you look just like your mom, sweetie.”

At the sound of her daddy’s voice, the cries die down into softer whimpers, still mad about leaving her warm home, but obviously happy Mom and Dad are near.

You press your lips against her head, uncaring about all the gunk on her head.

“Oh, God, she’s amazing,” you sigh, eyes shutting for a moment as you soak it all in.

You look over at Jack, and he smooths your hair back.

“You did incredible,” he whispers, eyes red-rimmed as he lets his tears fall.

You smile and blink out your own tears. “I love you. Thank you for catching her.”

Jack smiles back and kisses your cheek, then you turn to kiss his lips.

After another moment, you feel the need to push again. You swear softly under your breath and gently push on instinct. After about a minute, you vaguely hear your doctor tell you the placenta’s out, and you sigh relieved again.

“You’re all done,” Jack tells you. “You both did amazing.”

Once the cord turns white, Jack cuts it, and a few minutes later, the second nurse takes the baby over to the warmer to do some testing.

You send Jack over after he takes his shirt off, excited to see him actually hold the baby for the first time.

Jack stands near the baby warmer, eyes following his daughter’s every move as the nurse weighs, measures, and does everything else.

“Okay,” the nurse sighs, smiling at the screen that says all the levels are good. “Baby Abbot is seven pounds and eight ounces and 19 inches long. Five-minute APGAR score of ten. Congratulations. Jack, you can hold her now.”

Excitedly but carefully, Jack reaches his hands around the baby’s body and brings her to his chest. The nurse helps him cover her with a blanket, then he walks over to the chair by your bed.

Once everything else is determined to be okay, everyone leaves the room with soft whisperings of congratulations.

Jack sighs and smiles at you with all the love in his heart.

“You’re both incredible,” he says. “I’m in awe of you.”

You smile tiredly and sigh contentedly. “I’m so fucking happy.”

Jack smiles again, then stands and hands the baby back to you.

Soon, a lactation consultant comes in and helps you and the baby figure out the latch. Once you get the hang of it, you’re left alone again.

“Charlotte,” you say softly, looking at the baby.

Jack nods, the back of his finger caressing her cheek. “Charlotte Vivian Abbot?”

He looks to you to gauge your reaction. You smile.

“I like that,” you mutter softly.

Charlotte Vivian Abbot. Seven pounds and eight ounces. 19 inches long. Born at 4:26 AM on September 6, 2026.

Perfection in a very small package.

//

You and Jack manage to sleep for close to an hour before the baby is restless. After nursing, you’re starving, but luckily, Rhiannon brings you some breakfast before her shift ends.

“It’s not the best food, so if you’ve got people coming, you should ask them to bring you some food. Though, you can get food delivered, too. Anyway, my shift is ending, but I wanted to tell the little birdie and her sweet parents goodbye,” she says.

You smile and look down at the baby. 

“Birdie,” you muse. “That’s cute.” Then you look back at Rhiannon. “You’ve been really incredible. I can’t thank you enough.”

Rhiannon smiles and shrugs. “I’m just happy things went well. You three make a very cute family. Okay, I’ve got a breakfast date, so I’ve gotta go. Bye, guys.”

Then she’s gone.

“Birdie,” you sigh, smiling at the baby. “I like that, it’s cute.”

Jack sends the birth announcement to his parents, your mom and stepdad, his sister, then Robby and Dana.

After that, he puts his phone on “Do Not Disturb” and puts his focus on you and Birdie. A little later, though, he notices a text from his mom asking if it’s okay to call at some point. You say it’s fine, and Jack steps out into the hall, leaving you alone with the baby.

You had put her into a pink onesie so she wouldn’t get cold once the hospital AC started blowing a little too hard for your liking. 

Your little pink baby is finally here. She’s tiny and perfect and yours.

You hold her up by her armpits for just a moment, still supporting her head. The two of you just look at each other for a moment. Her face is scrunched up, but she’s perfect.

It’s hard to put into words how you’re feeling right now. You wanted this baby enough to raise her on your own. Jack is outside the door, but there was once a very real reality where he wasn’t supposed to be. 

And looking at her right now, it’s so clear to you that it would absolutely be worth it to be her mom by yourself. Anything hard that would come with raising her on your own would have been worth it, because the look in your daughter’s eyes that you can’t name is telling you that it all would’ve been okay.

You’re incredibly fortunate to have Jack by your side, but you could handle Birdie alone, and so could he. She’s worth all the pain in the world that got you both to the place of being her parents.

You bring her back to your chest and soak in her snuggly body and soft baby noises. You kiss her downy hair and keep your hands secure on her back.

“One day, I’m gonna tell you all about how you got here,” you say softly. “Just know for now that it was all very special and very precious, just like you, little Birdie, and that Mommy and Daddy love you very much.”

end author's note: wow the baby is here and I feel like I gave birth myself bc this series is such a labor of love lol. original Doctor Google was meant to be a one-shot, so thank you to everyone who believed in this story's potential and politely asked for more <3 pls let me know what you want to see from this story! (requests are open for that) after hearing about when s3 of The Pitt is going to be set, it is safe to say I will probably never reference canon again (at least in a big way), so pretty much anything is possible over here. thank you guys so much for reading! I know I have no schedule for this series at all and that can be annoying, so anyone loyally reading along is a fucking G in my book. for anyone who ever feels like you're annoying leaving persistent comments, whether it's an emoji or a more thoughtful comment, I guarantee you that you are not annoying, and in fact are someone I look forward to getting notifications from. I'm crazy; I see everything. ily all and pls be well <3

p.s. for anyone who is curious: Birdie is a virgo sun, cancer moon, and leo rising

All works taglist:  @person-005 @madpanda75 @tearsweetenedtea @canonisoptional @xoxoloverb @saralovesjoelmiller @youknowiloveyou-so

All Shawn Hatosy works taglist: @realwhoreforfictionalmen  @ezmina98 @hehehehahahohohuhu @janeety @jennataurus @esmemia16 @rumoured-whispers @1dhoe93 @dopeasope

Jack Abbot taglist: @michasia24 @its--fandom--darling @staygoldsquatchling02 @starstruckl @overthyme24 @hoziersguitarr @thehockeynerd30 @louisbelongstome28

Doctor Google taglist: @itsmycorneroftheinternet @myhopefulcollectionqueenfan-blog @karleyyyjaeee @laughsandlivia @babyspiceeeeeeee @merlin-288 @cari87 @kidd3ath @saralovesjoelmiller @agamayayayaya @nyxmoretti @ubiquitous-corvids @bookluver14 @thehockeynerd30 @cafereads @sukunasnumberoneslut @imaginesnnerd @whatliesaheadmatters

p.s. if you would like to be removed from any taglist, just let me know! and if you would like to join a taglist or change your current preferences, click here! <3

[realwhoreforfictionalmen]

BABY BIRDY IS HERE!!!!!

[dreamedaboutitinthedark]

our sweet little Birdie 💞💞💞

tyyy for reading and reblogging <3

[dreamedaboutitinthedark]

Doctor Dad

Summary: You bring your daughter into the world with Jack's help. Literally.

Pairing: Jack Abbot x Pregnant!Reader

Content warnings: MDNI, Al-Hashimi and Dana cameos, anxiety, labor (positive experience for Baby Mama ((with the exception of one ignorant nurse)) b/c I love her and could never let anything awful happen to her that doesn't serve the storyline), Jack is an excellent advocate/support person, epidural is used as well as other methods of pain relief, possible medical inaccuracies, childbirth, fluff, baby is named but is given a silly and cute nickname that she will be referred to as going forward (y'all voted on this)

Word count: 6,131

Series Masterlist | Read on ao3 here | dividers by @/lariesographic

Author's note: the things I know about labor and childbirth now... I'm not traumatized b/c I'm mature, but this is lowk more than I wanted to know at this stage of my life. some of this stuff is random things I learned from the TikTok for you page, and then some of it came from very detailed Google searches, and some is from birth stories I watched on YouTube. I tried watching birth vlogs, but some of these dads seemed evil, so I couldn't do it, plus it was kind of scary for me, so yeah. anyways I hope you enjoy b/c this series has lowkey become my baby so pls lmk what you think and here's your reminder that reblogs (empty or not) are good for your health! ily thank you for being here pls enjoy! <3

additional note: if you are on any of the taglists here and don't reblog this post after liking/commenting, you are getting side eyed hard.

40 weeks and two days. In other words, hell. That’s the state you’re currently in.

You just had to all but push Jack out the door to go to work, but he’s gone. Sure, you told him to go, but now you’re bored. You’ve watched all of Adam Sandler’s and Queen Latifah’s movies, so now you’re not even sure what to put on the TV.

Eventually, you decide to put on an episode of Shameless, and once you’ve got all your snacks and two drinks nearby, you’re ready to camp out on the couch for the foreseeable future.

//

At noon, Jack’s left hand can’t stop tapping against his leg while he fills out a chart on one of the computers in the hub. His mind can’t get off of you, and he was just a little uncharacteristically harsh on one of the residents. He prides himself on his stern but empathetic approach; he hasn’t snapped at anyone in years.

Al-Hashimi walks over, calmly, with no readable expression on her face. She leans over, elbows on the countertop.

“Whitaker will get over it,” she says softly. “So there’s no need for you to feel this bad about it.”

Jack looks up at Al-Hashimi through his lashes.

“You said your wife’s due date was September third, correct?” she asks.

Jack looks back at the computer and nods. “Yeah.”

“It’s the fifth.”

“I know,” he says, a little annoyed and snippy. He sighs and looks at her again. “Sorry.” 

Al-Hashimi sighs and considers her words for a moment. “My ex was the same way before I had my son. This isn’t an abnormal reaction to waiting for your baby to be born. The doctor tells you the due date, and even though we all know babies come on their own schedules, you expect them to come when they’re ‘supposed to.’”

Jack finally logs out of the computer and leans back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest.

“Am I wrong to suspect your wife all but kicked you out today because you were maybe a little overbearing?” Al-Hashimi ventures.

Jack’s brows furrow. “What do you mean?”

“You’re a passionate man, Abbot,” Al-Hashimi says, seemingly holding back a smile. “And while your wife definitely loves you, she’s uncomfortable, and at this point, overdue. The last thing she needs is a husband who won’t bend to her will because of his own anxiety.”

Jack frowns. 

“I bend,” he mutters under his breath.

Al-Hashimi grins. “I’m sure. I just mean to say, she needs you to be relaxed and amenable, not tense and rigid.”

Okay, maybe she’s got a point. He can’t imagine what it feels like to have an entire baby pushing his lungs out of the way and fuck with his center of gravity. You need him to be calm and willing to do what makes you happy and comfortable.

Jack nods and sighs. 

“You’re right. I need to relax more,” he says.

Al-Hashimi smiles softer now. “You’re going to be a great father. We’ll miss you on paternity leave.”

Jack perks up at that. “Eh, you’ll all manage. I might bring the baby by for you all to meet once she’s big enough.”

“We’d all love that.”

Just then, Dana calls Jack’s name.

“Abbot, I got your wife on the phone,” she calls out.

Without missing a beat, Jack’s out of his chair and heading over to Dana, who’s got the hospital landline in her hand.

“Sweetheart?” he speaks into the receiver.

“Hi, I didn’t want to take the chance of you missing the call on your personal phone.”

“That’s fine. Are you okay?”

You pause on the other line for a moment.

“Um,” you begin. “I think I’m in early labor. Contractions every eight minutes, 30 seconds long. I think I had the bloody show or whatever that stuff is.”

Jack’s heart is in his throat. When he tries to talk, he can’t. He clears his throat and sighs. 

“Okay,” he says. “How’s the pain?”

You sigh. “Uh, like day two period cramps, but I’ll live.”

Jack rubs his temple. “Okay. You want me home, I take it?”

“Yes,” you say quickly. “Please. As fast as you can, but don’t drive like a maniac; I’m okay so far.”

Jack nods even though you can’t see him. “Okay, I’ll leave now. You got this, sweetheart. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

When you hang up, Jack hands the phone back to Dana, his eyes wild.

“Whoa, is it baby time?” she asks him, one hand on his forearm to steady him.

He nods, his body gearing up to be your rock for the foreseeable future.

“Yeah,” he says, panting like he just ran ten laps around the E.D. “She’s in early labor. Eight minutes apart, thirty seconds long.”

“Okay,” Dana says calmly. “Al-Hashimi can handle things on her own down here until another attending gets here. And besides, we’ve got all our best residents today, so you’re leaving everyone in good hands, Abbot.”

“Right. Yeah, I know,” he breathes.

Dana pats his arm.

“I’ll call Dr. Rosen in. Good luck, Dad,” she says as she steps back over to her workstation.

Jack mumbles a ‘thanks’ as he starts moving on autopilot. He makes a beeline for the locker room to grab his bag and then heads straight for the parking lot.

He’s prepared for this moment in his last few therapy sessions. He just has to drive back home, ask you what you want from him, and do exactly that.

//

When he pulls into the driveway, he takes a minute to compose himself. As soon as he walks through the front door, he’ll be a rock, completely steady and dependable for you. His only priority is you and the baby.

After some deep breaths, he shuts the truck off and grabs his things before heading inside.

“Sweetheart?” he calls out as he locks the front door behind him.

“I’m in the kitchen,” you call out.

Jack drops his bag on the floor and pads into the kitchen to find you making sandwiches.

“Are you hungry?” you ask, looking up at him momentarily.

He smiles softly and walks up to you, wrapping his arms around your waist and pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“How’re you feeling?” he asks.

“Okay still,” you say as you cut both sandwiches diagonally. “I just had a contraction right before you walked in.”

Another kiss to your cheek. “Any progress?”

“No, it’s the same as when I called you.”

“Okay, um, do you want to sit at the table or on the couch?” he asks softly, stepping back to take both plates.

“Couch,” you decide.

He leads the way, setting both plates on the coffee table so he can help you get comfortable on the couch. Once you say you’re good, he hands you your plate and sits next to you.

After a minute of realizing what’s going on on the TV screen, Jack’s brows furrow.

“Wait, this fifteen-year-old is gay, and his hookup of choice is a 35-year-old?” he asks, looking from the screen to you.

You snort. “Yeah, but later in the show he gets with an age-appropriate guy, so it’s–” You sigh and clear your throat. “Fuck, that hurts. Anyways, this guy’s gonna be okay.”

Jack’s eyes go to his watch to time the contraction, his right hand offering itself to you, which you gladly take.

“I don’t even get to yell at you and tell you this is all your fault; I did this completely to myself,” you sigh as the contraction wanes.

Jack smiles sympathetically and brings your knuckles to his lips.

“Yell at me all you want,” he says softly. “You’re doing an incredible thing here for both of us, 

After lunch, Jack changes clothes and removes his prosthesis when he gets back to the couch. The two of you stay there for a couple of hours, softly talking over the TV as the contractions grow more intense.

“You’re doing good, sweetheart,” he mutters softly when another one comes. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you mutter softly, your grip easing up as the contraction lessens. “Can I sit on your lap?”

He’s a little surprised, but he nods anyway and scooches all the way back to the corner of the sectional, his legs straight in front of him. You lower yourself onto his lap, your back to the plush arm of the couch, one hand resting on Jack’s shoulder farthest from you, the other on your belly.

Jack joins hands with you on your belly and drapes his other arm around your shoulders.

“I’ve narrowed down my favorite names,” you say softly, head tucked under his chin.

“Let’s hear ‘em.”

“Vivian. Felicity. Colette. Amelie. And Charlotte has grown on me.”

“I’m happy with those,” he says softly. 

You press a soft kiss to Jack’s chest. “We’ll know when we see her.”

Jack hums in agreement and kisses the top of your head. 

//

Around 6:00 PM, things feel more intense. You’ve had contractions every 5 minutes, each lasting a minute, for the last half hour.

After asking what you want to do, Jack helps you to the car, triple-checking that the bags are in the trunk and that the baby’s car seat is in place. Before heading to the hospital, he goes through a Dairy Queen drive-thru, and the two of you eat dinner in your car. 

When you’re done, you start really making your way to the hospital. 

Triage goes well. Both you and the baby have good vital signs, contractions are consistent, and the cervical exam confirms that you are four and a half centimeters dilated. 

Check-in is easy, but it causes some anxiety. It’s all real. This is really happening. The baby you’ve wanted since you were a little girl playing with dolls is about to come into the world. You want her. You wanted her so badly, you made her all by yourself, and she’s about to come.

You’re about to get hooked up to monitors that tell you she’s really coming.

Jack holds your hand as the two of you are led to a room.

You hand the hospital gown back to the nurse in the interest of wearing the birthing gown you bought online after it was recommended to you by your cousin after she had her baby. The nurse, Rhiannon, hooks up the fetal monitor to your belly, though this one is sticky and allows for movement rather than the belts you’d seen on TV shows before.

“Okay, last thing is an IV, or what we can do is an IV port that isn’t connected to any tubes or wires until you decide that maybe you need an epidural or we end up needing to administer a different type of medication,” Rhiannon says as she readies her equipment. “Either way, I’ve gotta poke you.”

“Port sounds good.” You hand Rhiannon your arm with the best veins and turn your head toward Jack, who’s looking at you with the same awe he had in his eyes the first time he saw you naked and when you put his wedding ring on him in the courthouse.

As Rhiannon gets to work, she asks, “Do you know what you’re having?” in an easy voice, clearly confident in her ability to multitask.

“A girl,” you answer, smiling at Jack.

He reaches out a hand to tuck your hair behind your ear, his thumb caressing your cheekbone.

“Yay,” Rhiannon says, clearly smiling. “I love girls. I have two nieces. You guys are gonna love having a girl. Um, how long have the two of you been together?”

“Um,” both you and Jack say at the same time.

You laugh softly. “We got married about a month ago. We met, like, over three years ago when I moved in next door.”

“Neighbors to lovers, that’s so cute,” Rhiannon says as she finishes up. “Okay. I skimmed over your file before I walked in, but I think I remember seeing you wanted to wait on the epidural for freedom of movement, correct?”

You nod as you turn over to look at your nurse. “Yeah, that’s right.”

Rhiannon nods. “Okay, well, as soon as you do want it, if you end up wanting it, just press the call button, and I’ll come in, and we’ll find the anesthesiologist, okay? Perfect. Good luck, and I’ll check back in later.”

Then it’s just you and Jack, and a contraction hits almost as soon as the door shuts, and your fingernails dig into his skin.

He leans his forehead against yours, and with his free hand, he gently scratches your scalp.

Since you’ve stopped being able to talk through the contractions, he’s stopped talking to you during them. For one, you can’t answer, even if he is just praising you, and for two, he can only imagine how annoying the sound of his voice is going to get towards the end of this anyway, so he’ll keep his mouth shut as much as he can.

As the contraction wanes, you loosen your grip on Jack’s hand and let out a soft sigh.

“You okay?” he asks after a moment.

You nod and smile tiredly at him. “I love you.”

Jack smiles and pecks your lips. “I love you, too. I’m gonna dim the lights, okay? That sound good?”

You nod again.

He kisses your forehead before he stands and dims all the lights. It’s about 8:30 at night, so things are naturally winding down with the exception of your uterus and cervix.

When you’re satisfied with the lighting, you hold your hand out. Jack sits on the edge of the bed and takes your hand, putting his free hand on your belly.

“You’re doing really good, sweetheart,” he tells you, his expression one of sincerity and love. “You’re handling everything really well. I’m so proud of you.”

You smile and lean your forehead on his shoulder, sitting with your legs crisscross, your left knee brushing against his left thigh clad in soft sweatpants.

Jack tilts his head down to kiss your hair, his left hand gently brushing up and down your back.

“You wanna switch positions soon?” he asks softly.

You nod and look over at the birthing ball in the corner. He heads to the corner to bring the ball to the middle of the room, then helps you stand from the bed, a gentle hand at the small of your back as he leads you toward the ball. You take both his hands as you lower yourself onto the ball.

“Feel okay?” he asks softly, crouching in front of you, hands on your knees, fingertips brushing yours.

“Yeah,” you mutter softly.

You cup his jaw with both hands and lean in to kiss him. You can tell it surprises him at first, and you can’t really blame him, but after a few seconds, he starts reciprocating, his hands sliding up the length of your thighs to rest on your hips while you gently sway them on the ball.

When he hears you moan, out of pain and not pleasure, he pulls back, but you lean back in. 

Jack lets you take the lead. As soon as you pull him back in, he’s back to kissing you with all the love in his heart. His hands on your hips press in, hoping the counterpressure will help.

Once the contraction passes, you pull back, eyes glazed over as you look at him.

“The article I sent you a few weeks ago,” you say breathlessly. “On kissing and oxytocin and labor and stuff. Sorry, I thought you remembered.”

Realization hits him quickly.

“Oh,” he sighs, smiling softly. “Okay, I remember now. I’ll kiss you all you want.”

//

A few hours go by pretty peacefully. At around 9:15, Rhiannon comes in to do a cervical check and tells you you’re at six centimeters. She cracks a few jokes, keeping things light, and when she leaves, you tell Jack to make a reminder to nominate her for a DAISY award when you get home.

Around 11:30, the contractions pick up in intensity. In the middle of the room, you stand with your arms around Jack’s neck, face buried into his chest. He keeps his hands on your hips to deliver counterpressure during contractions, now two and a half minutes apart.

There’s a knock on the door, and the nurse who walks through isn’t Rhiannon.

“Hi,” she says. “Rhiannon is otherwise occupied at the moment, so I’ll be doing your cervical check. My name is Jane.”

She snaps some gloves on, and as you try to peel yourself off of Jack to greet the new nurse, another contraction hits. This one steals your breath and pulls an almost animalistic moan from your throat. You dig your fingernails into the back of Jack’s neck, but he doesn’t waver.

“Oh, honey, why don’t you just get the epidural already?” Jane asks. “There’s absolutely no reason for you to feel the need to cause all that ruckus and scratch up your husband’s neck. I’ll call the anesthesiologist.”

All this from your knockoff of Rhiannon before the contraction is even over, mind you. Jack doesn’t miss a beat.

“There’s absolutely no need for that,” he says immediately, hands still steady on your body. “If my wife wants an epidural, she’ll ask for one, and she certainly doesn’t need you to make decisions about her body without even giving her time to think. Now, if you don’t mind, she’ll opt out of the cervical check for now. We’re happy to wait for Rhiannon.”

Eventually, you hear the door open and close, and once the contraction is over, you look up at Jack.

What a man.

“Am I really scratching up your neck?” you ask with a soft and feeble voice. “Or being too loud?”

He shakes his head. “No, of course not, and don’t worry about it anymore.”

You sigh softly and press your cheek to his chest.

“Could you do the cervical check?” you ask. “I feel like I should be further along, and I don’t wanna wait to find out.”

It’s a little bit surprising to hear this request, but if he’s going to catch the baby in a few hours, he can definitely check to see how dilated you are. Hopefully you’re nearing the end, and he can inspire some motivation with the news.

He nods and kisses your forehead.

“Yeah, sweetheart. Let’s get you back on the bed for a second,” he says softly as he guides you back toward the bed.

Once he’s got you in a good position, he heads to the counter and takes some sterile gloves, then heads back to the bed where he takes a look, and for about a minute, he’s both your husband and a doctor.

“I do want an epidural,” you say breathily while Jack checks you. “I just want to be the one to ask for it. I’m asking for it, Jack. Unless you say I’m at a ten, I’m asking for a fucking epidural.”

Jack nods and looks up at you, simultaneously pulling the gloves off.

“You’re at a seven. Do you want me to step out and ask for you?” he asks.

If you press the call button, fucking Jane might come back in, and hers is the last face you want to see even if you didn’t get a good look at it.

You nod and reach for his hand, another contraction building. He lets you pull him in for a kiss, doing anything you can to minimize the pain before you get some real relief.

It’s somewhat strange, kissing you in this situation. It’s not doing anything for him in the way kisses this passionate usually do, but it’s causing another emotion entirely. 

You’re so in control, and he’ll do anything to make sure you keep that. He’ll kiss you through the pain, he’ll rub your hips, he’ll let you scratch up his skin, he’ll tell off a nurse for you. Anything you want. The admiration he has for you right now is unlike anything ever before.

You’re such an incredible woman; he already knew that. But witnessing you bring life into this world and stay so strong through it all is strengthening his feelings toward you. Not that they ever faltered.

When it’s over, you pull back, and Jack exits the room as quickly as possible. Thankfully, the first nurse he sees at the nurse’s station is one he knows.

“Hey, Abbot,” she greets as he approaches.

He smiles but gets right to the point. “My wife wants an epidural. Where’s the anesthesiologist?"

“Uh, she’s finishing up with a patient right now, but there’s no one else waiting. Do you know how many centimeters she was at the last cervical check?”

“Seven, just a few minutes ago.”

The nurse nods. “Okay, I’ll send her in in a few minutes.”

He quickly thanks the nurse and heads back to your room, making it just in time for your next contraction. 

Just as he walks through the door, you reach your hand out, whimpering softly. He grabs your hand and reaches around with his free one to rub your back.

This time, he kisses you, moaning softly against you every so often to get your mind literally anywhere else besides this room.

When it’s over, and you lean your forehead against his, he tells you that the epidural is on its way.

“You’re doing really good, sweetheart,” he says softly. “I’ve seen lots of labors and deliveries, but this… It’s incredible. You’re doing such a hard thing so amazingly.” He pauses and kisses your cheek. “I’m more in love with you, and I didn’t think that was possible. You’re gonna be such a good mom. I know it. Our baby girl’s so lucky to have you.”

A silent tear falls down your cheek, brow furrowed as you focus on his face, every wrinkle, every freckle, every short hair of his stubbly beard and the smooth and gravelly sound of his voice.

Jack doesn’t tell you not to cry. He just smiles softly and wordlessly wipes your tears with the back of his knuckle.

“I love you,” he whispers. “I’m so lucky to be here.”

You shake your head and reach out to cup his cheek. 

“It’s not luck, Jack,” you say softly, your voice thick with emotion. “I chose you. You chose me and this baby, and I chose you back.”

He leans in for another kiss. This one just because, not particularly for pain relief, even if that’s an added plus.

You breathe him in, and take his hand and guide it to the side of your bump. He feels your skin tighten underneath his palm with another contraction. He keeps his hand perfectly still, hoping not to overstimulate you, and keeps kissing you.

After it passes, you stand with Jack again, only this time with your back to his chest. He holds your belly up for you one last time, taking the weight off your back for you, his lips pressed to your hair as the two of you slowly sway. You rest your palms on his forearms and stare across the room at the baby warmer, empty for now.

Soon, the anesthesiologist comes in and sets up for the epidural. She lets Jack stay in the room for the procedure and instructs him to stand in front of you, hands in yours.

Once it’s administered, and you’re in a comfortable position on your side, and the room is cleared, Jack turns off almost all the lights. He brings one of the chairs up to your bedside and holds your hand.

Within a few minutes, the epidural kicks in, and your eyes start to droop.

“Feeling good?” he asks softly, bringing a hand to cup your belly over the blanket.

You nod, a happy smile on your face. “Yeah, I can finally sleep now.”

Jack pulls his phone out of his pocket and props it up against your water bottle on the side table to record a video.

You cover his hand on your bump and admire the sight of your wedding rings and hospital bracelets brushing against each other.

“What are you most excited about becoming a mom?” he asks softly.

You hum thoughtfully. 

“Shaping a person,” you say. “Showing her things and watching her form her own opinions on them.”

Jack smiles and nods along.

“What about you?” you ask.

Jack sighs and chews on the inside of his cheek. “Probably the same. Just getting to witness her and see her grow and learn and experience the world.”

You smile brightly at him, and he leans in to peck your lips.

“Okay, last chance for betting,” he says.

You giggle softly and shut your eyes as you think, then open them again.

“She’ll come after 6:00 AM, seven pounds and ten ounces, 19 inches long. That’s my guess,” you say. 

“My guess is before 6:00 AM, eight pounds and one ounce, 20 inches long.”

You smile. “Either way, I’m excited to meet her.”

“Me, too,” Jack says softly, reaching out to tuck your hair behind your ear. “I already love her like crazy.”

Your smile widens, and you squeeze his hand. “I know. She’s gonna be perfect.”

“Yeah,” he whispers. “Just like you.”

He leans in to peck your lips, and before he pulls away, you mumble out an “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” Then he stops the video and puts his phone in his pocket. 

“You wanna get some rest?” he asks softly, his hand moving from your hair to your cheek, his thumb brushing back and forth against your skin.

You nod. “I love you, baby.”

Jack leans in for another kiss. “I love you, too, sweetheart. I’ll stay right here.”

“Take your prosthesis off,” you remind him.

He nods and leans back in his chair and pulls his pant leg up. Once it’s off, he places it out of the way but still in reach. By the time he looks back at you, your breathing is deeper. 

He smiles and leans down to kiss your bump for possibly the last time.

“I’ll see you soon, baby girl,” he whispers.

//

At almost 3:30 AM, Rhiannon comes back in for another cervical check.

Jack wakes first.

“Hi,” she says, speaking softly. “It’s time for another cervical check.” She snaps on some sterile gloves. “I find that it’s better for you to wake her up than me.”

Jack nods and gently rubs your shoulder to wake you. He presses a kiss to your cheek and whispers for you to wake up.

Your eyes flutter and land on Jack.

“Rhiannon’s back to check your dilation,” he says softly.

You nod, and Rhiannon helps you turn over on your back while Jack puts his prosthesis back on.

When she’s done checking you over, Rhiannon smiles.

“It’s baby time,” she says as she pulls the gloves off. “I saw in your chart that you wanted to use the squat bar, lower your epidural dose to push, and that if there were no complications that you wanted Jack to catch the baby. Still good with all that?”

You nod, yawning softly.

Rhiannon gets everything ready, and soon the bed is modified to accommodate the squat bar. Your OB-GYN, who was thankfully working the night shift, comes in, along with a second nurse, and suddenly, you’re just waiting for the next contraction so you can push.

You were a little nervous that pushing would take hours, but after only about 40 minutes of pushing and grunting and Jack whispering praise in your ear, your doctor smiles.

“Abbot, it’s your turn,” she says as she steps to the side.

You turn your face toward Jack, sweat dotting your hairline but the biggest sparkle of excitement in your eyes. You lean in for a peck, and Jack whispers, “I love you, sweetheart.”

“I love you, too,” you sniffle, smiling brightly.

Jack gets into position, your OB behind him, clearly monitoring the situation, but Jack’s delivered hundreds of babies, even just delivered one last week, so she’s not too worried about him biting off more than he can chew here.

Once he’s got sterile gloves on, he gets his hands into position.

“Alright, sweetheart,” he sighs, letting the doctor inside of him take over just a bit, though it’s clear the man in front of you is still your husband first and foremost. “On the next contraction, give me a big push.”

Rhiannon counts for you as you push. You white-knuckle the squat bar and breathe deeper than you ever have as you bear down.

“Good, good, good,” Jack mutters softly, his hands on the baby’s head, holding back tears by the grace of God. “You’re doing so good, sweetheart.”

With a soft whimper, you take a break from pushing.

“You’re doing great,” your doctor says from behind Jack. “Less than five pushes, I’d say.”

You nod and focus on your breathing.

“You wanna feel her hair?” Jack asks. “She’s got a lot.”

“Mhm,” you hum softly, the lack of sleep catching up to you.

Jack takes your hand and guides it between your legs.

“That’s not me?” you joke.

The entire room lets out a soft chuckle, with the exception of Rhiannon, who snorts softly into her shoulder.

“No,” Jack says, eyes crinkling as he smiles. “That’s our baby; she’s got a lotta hair.”

You smile and take a steadying breath as another contraction builds.

“Okay, sweetheart, you got this,” he says softly, growing serious again as he focuses on the baby.

That push delivers the head.

“Perfect,” Jack praises. “Just a couple more, sweetheart, let’s get the shoulders out.”

Two pushes later, the air is pierced by a sharp but oddly beautiful cry.

“She sounds kind of like a bird,” someone remarks. “So cute!”

You let out a sob of relief and hold your hands out as Jack places her on your chest.

Looking down at the squirming infant is all it takes to fall completely in love with her.

“Hi, baby girl,” you coo at her, holding your hands over her back so she doesn’t get cold. “Hi. Hi, sweetie. I’m your mama.”

At some point, Jack has moved from your legs and peeled his gloves off because now you feel his hand on your shoulder and hear him whispering in your ear, “You did so good.”

The baby continues to cry, but seems to begin to settle on your chest.

“Wow, you’re really here,” you whisper, tears streaming down your face uncontrollably. “I love you so much, beautiful baby girl.”

You look up at Jack on instinct, and tears are streaming down his face. He kisses your temple, then gently gives the baby his finger so she can wrap her first around it.

“Hi, baby girl,” he whispers. “I’m your daddy.” He sniffs. “Wow, you look just like your mom, sweetie.”

At the sound of her daddy’s voice, the cries die down into softer whimpers, still mad about leaving her warm home, but obviously happy Mom and Dad are near.

You press your lips against her head, uncaring about all the gunk on her head.

“Oh, God, she’s amazing,” you sigh, eyes shutting for a moment as you soak it all in.

You look over at Jack, and he smooths your hair back.

“You did incredible,” he whispers, eyes red-rimmed as he lets his tears fall.

You smile and blink out your own tears. “I love you. Thank you for catching her.”

Jack smiles back and kisses your cheek, then you turn to kiss his lips.

After another moment, you feel the need to push again. You swear softly under your breath and gently push on instinct. After about a minute, you vaguely hear your doctor tell you the placenta’s out, and you sigh relieved again.

“You’re all done,” Jack tells you. “You both did amazing.”

Once the cord turns white, Jack cuts it, and a few minutes later, the second nurse takes the baby over to the warmer to do some testing.

You send Jack over after he takes his shirt off, excited to see him actually hold the baby for the first time.

Jack stands near the baby warmer, eyes following his daughter’s every move as the nurse weighs, measures, and does everything else.

“Okay,” the nurse sighs, smiling at the screen that says all the levels are good. “Baby Abbot is seven pounds and eight ounces and 19 inches long. Five-minute APGAR score of ten. Congratulations. Jack, you can hold her now.”

Excitedly but carefully, Jack reaches his hands around the baby’s body and brings her to his chest. The nurse helps him cover her with a blanket, then he walks over to the chair by your bed.

Once everything else is determined to be okay, everyone leaves the room with soft whisperings of congratulations.

Jack sighs and smiles at you with all the love in his heart.

“You’re both incredible,” he says. “I’m in awe of you.”

You smile tiredly and sigh contentedly. “I’m so fucking happy.”

Jack smiles again, then stands and hands the baby back to you.

Soon, a lactation consultant comes in and helps you and the baby figure out the latch. Once you get the hang of it, you’re left alone again.

“Charlotte,” you say softly, looking at the baby.

Jack nods, the back of his finger caressing her cheek. “Charlotte Vivian Abbot?”

He looks to you to gauge your reaction. You smile.

“I like that,” you mutter softly.

Charlotte Vivian Abbot. Seven pounds and eight ounces. 19 inches long. Born at 4:26 AM on September 6, 2026.

Perfection in a very small package.

//

You and Jack manage to sleep for close to an hour before the baby is restless. After nursing, you’re starving, but luckily, Rhiannon brings you some breakfast before her shift ends.

“It’s not the best food, so if you’ve got people coming, you should ask them to bring you some food. Though, you can get food delivered, too. Anyway, my shift is ending, but I wanted to tell the little birdie and her sweet parents goodbye,” she says.

You smile and look down at the baby. 

“Birdie,” you muse. “That’s cute.” Then you look back at Rhiannon. “You’ve been really incredible. I can’t thank you enough.”

Rhiannon smiles and shrugs. “I’m just happy things went well. You three make a very cute family. Okay, I’ve got a breakfast date, so I’ve gotta go. Bye, guys.”

Then she’s gone.

“Birdie,” you sigh, smiling at the baby. “I like that, it’s cute.”

Jack sends the birth announcement to his parents, your mom and stepdad, his sister, then Robby and Dana.

After that, he puts his phone on “Do Not Disturb” and puts his focus on you and Birdie. A little later, though, he notices a text from his mom asking if it’s okay to call at some point. You say it’s fine, and Jack steps out into the hall, leaving you alone with the baby.

You had put her into a pink onesie so she wouldn’t get cold once the hospital AC started blowing a little too hard for your liking. 

Your little pink baby is finally here. She’s tiny and perfect and yours.

You hold her up by her armpits for just a moment, still supporting her head. The two of you just look at each other for a moment. Her face is scrunched up, but she’s perfect.

It’s hard to put into words how you’re feeling right now. You wanted this baby enough to raise her on your own. Jack is outside the door, but there was once a very real reality where he wasn’t supposed to be. 

And looking at her right now, it’s so clear to you that it would absolutely be worth it to be her mom by yourself. Anything hard that would come with raising her on your own would have been worth it, because the look in your daughter’s eyes that you can’t name is telling you that it all would’ve been okay.

You’re incredibly fortunate to have Jack by your side, but you could handle Birdie alone, and so could he. She’s worth all the pain in the world that got you both to the place of being her parents.

You bring her back to your chest and soak in her snuggly body and soft baby noises. You kiss her downy hair and keep your hands secure on her back.

“One day, I’m gonna tell you all about how you got here,” you say softly. “Just know for now that it was all very special and very precious, just like you, little Birdie, and that Mommy and Daddy love you very much.”

end author's note: wow the baby is here and I feel like I gave birth myself bc this series is such a labor of love lol. original Doctor Google was meant to be a one-shot, so thank you to everyone who believed in this story's potential and politely asked for more <3 pls let me know what you want to see from this story! (requests are open for that) after hearing about when s3 of The Pitt is going to be set, it is safe to say I will probably never reference canon again (at least in a big way), so pretty much anything is possible over here. thank you guys so much for reading! I know I have no schedule for this series at all and that can be annoying, so anyone loyally reading along is a fucking G in my book. for anyone who ever feels like you're annoying leaving persistent comments, whether it's an emoji or a more thoughtful comment, I guarantee you that you are not annoying, and in fact are someone I look forward to getting notifications from. I'm crazy; I see everything. ily all and pls be well <3

p.s. for anyone who is curious: Birdie is a virgo sun, cancer moon, and leo rising

All works taglist:  @person-005 @madpanda75 @tearsweetenedtea @canonisoptional @xoxoloverb @saralovesjoelmiller @youknowiloveyou-so

All Shawn Hatosy works taglist: @realwhoreforfictionalmen  @ezmina98 @hehehehahahohohuhu @janeety @jennataurus @esmemia16 @rumoured-whispers @1dhoe93 @dopeasope

Jack Abbot taglist: @michasia24 @its--fandom--darling @staygoldsquatchling02 @starstruckl @overthyme24 @hoziersguitarr @thehockeynerd30 @louisbelongstome28

Doctor Google taglist: @itsmycorneroftheinternet @myhopefulcollectionqueenfan-blog @karleyyyjaeee @laughsandlivia @babyspiceeeeeeee @merlin-288 @cari87 @kidd3ath @saralovesjoelmiller @agamayayayaya @nyxmoretti @ubiquitous-corvids @bookluver14 @thehockeynerd30 @cafereads @sukunasnumberoneslut @imaginesnnerd @whatliesaheadmatters

p.s. if you would like to be removed from any taglist, just let me know! and if you would like to join a taglist or change your current preferences, click here! <3

[chris-tredidation21]

First off insane levels of research!!! It's clear how much U love this series with all the attention to detail, which as a professional reader makes me so happy 🥹💐💐💐

Rhiannon is the MVP 💪

Jack "what a man" Abbot standing on business 🤭🤏

[dreamedaboutitinthedark]

AHHH tyyyy for taking notice 😋😋😋 the amount of google searches that started with “what happens when/during” and the amount of Reddit forums I read for this chapter specifically was insane so ty ty ty im happy you appreciated it 💞💞💞

Rhiannon is getting that DAISY pin as soon as Abbot gets home and nominates her trust 🤞🤞

What. A. Man. I love him. Best baby daddy ever.

Thank you so so much for reading and reblogging 💞

[dreamedaboutitinthedark]

Doctor Dad

Summary: You bring your daughter into the world with Jack's help. Literally.

Pairing: Jack Abbot x Pregnant!Reader

Content warnings: MDNI, Al-Hashimi and Dana cameos, anxiety, labor (positive experience for Baby Mama ((with the exception of one ignorant nurse)) b/c I love her and could never let anything awful happen to her that doesn't serve the storyline), Jack is an excellent advocate/support person, epidural is used as well as other methods of pain relief, possible medical inaccuracies, childbirth, fluff, baby is named but is given a silly and cute nickname that she will be referred to as going forward (y'all voted on this)

Word count: 6,131

Series Masterlist | Read on ao3 here | dividers by @/lariesographic

Author's note: the things I know about labor and childbirth now... I'm not traumatized b/c I'm mature, but this is lowk more than I wanted to know at this stage of my life. some of this stuff is random things I learned from the TikTok for you page, and then some of it came from very detailed Google searches, and some is from birth stories I watched on YouTube. I tried watching birth vlogs, but some of these dads seemed evil, so I couldn't do it, plus it was kind of scary for me, so yeah. anyways I hope you enjoy b/c this series has lowkey become my baby so pls lmk what you think and here's your reminder that reblogs (empty or not) are good for your health! ily thank you for being here pls enjoy! <3

additional note: if you are on any of the taglists here and don't reblog this post after liking/commenting, you are getting side eyed hard.

40 weeks and two days. In other words, hell. That’s the state you’re currently in.

You just had to all but push Jack out the door to go to work, but he’s gone. Sure, you told him to go, but now you’re bored. You’ve watched all of Adam Sandler’s and Queen Latifah’s movies, so now you’re not even sure what to put on the TV.

Eventually, you decide to put on an episode of Shameless, and once you’ve got all your snacks and two drinks nearby, you’re ready to camp out on the couch for the foreseeable future.

//

At noon, Jack’s left hand can’t stop tapping against his leg while he fills out a chart on one of the computers in the hub. His mind can’t get off of you, and he was just a little uncharacteristically harsh on one of the residents. He prides himself on his stern but empathetic approach; he hasn’t snapped at anyone in years.

Al-Hashimi walks over, calmly, with no readable expression on her face. She leans over, elbows on the countertop.

“Whitaker will get over it,” she says softly. “So there’s no need for you to feel this bad about it.”

Jack looks up at Al-Hashimi through his lashes.

“You said your wife’s due date was September third, correct?” she asks.

Jack looks back at the computer and nods. “Yeah.”

“It’s the fifth.”

“I know,” he says, a little annoyed and snippy. He sighs and looks at her again. “Sorry.” 

Al-Hashimi sighs and considers her words for a moment. “My ex was the same way before I had my son. This isn’t an abnormal reaction to waiting for your baby to be born. The doctor tells you the due date, and even though we all know babies come on their own schedules, you expect them to come when they’re ‘supposed to.’”

Jack finally logs out of the computer and leans back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest.

“Am I wrong to suspect your wife all but kicked you out today because you were maybe a little overbearing?” Al-Hashimi ventures.

Jack’s brows furrow. “What do you mean?”

“You’re a passionate man, Abbot,” Al-Hashimi says, seemingly holding back a smile. “And while your wife definitely loves you, she’s uncomfortable, and at this point, overdue. The last thing she needs is a husband who won’t bend to her will because of his own anxiety.”

Jack frowns. 

“I bend,” he mutters under his breath.

Al-Hashimi grins. “I’m sure. I just mean to say, she needs you to be relaxed and amenable, not tense and rigid.”

Okay, maybe she’s got a point. He can’t imagine what it feels like to have an entire baby pushing his lungs out of the way and fuck with his center of gravity. You need him to be calm and willing to do what makes you happy and comfortable.

Jack nods and sighs. 

“You’re right. I need to relax more,” he says.

Al-Hashimi smiles softer now. “You’re going to be a great father. We’ll miss you on paternity leave.”

Jack perks up at that. “Eh, you’ll all manage. I might bring the baby by for you all to meet once she’s big enough.”

“We’d all love that.”

Just then, Dana calls Jack’s name.

“Abbot, I got your wife on the phone,” she calls out.

Without missing a beat, Jack’s out of his chair and heading over to Dana, who’s got the hospital landline in her hand.

“Sweetheart?” he speaks into the receiver.

“Hi, I didn’t want to take the chance of you missing the call on your personal phone.”

“That’s fine. Are you okay?”

You pause on the other line for a moment.

“Um,” you begin. “I think I’m in early labor. Contractions every eight minutes, 30 seconds long. I think I had the bloody show or whatever that stuff is.”

Jack’s heart is in his throat. When he tries to talk, he can’t. He clears his throat and sighs. 

“Okay,” he says. “How’s the pain?”

You sigh. “Uh, like day two period cramps, but I’ll live.”

Jack rubs his temple. “Okay. You want me home, I take it?”

“Yes,” you say quickly. “Please. As fast as you can, but don’t drive like a maniac; I’m okay so far.”

Jack nods even though you can’t see him. “Okay, I’ll leave now. You got this, sweetheart. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

When you hang up, Jack hands the phone back to Dana, his eyes wild.

“Whoa, is it baby time?” she asks him, one hand on his forearm to steady him.

He nods, his body gearing up to be your rock for the foreseeable future.

“Yeah,” he says, panting like he just ran ten laps around the E.D. “She’s in early labor. Eight minutes apart, thirty seconds long.”

“Okay,” Dana says calmly. “Al-Hashimi can handle things on her own down here until another attending gets here. And besides, we’ve got all our best residents today, so you’re leaving everyone in good hands, Abbot.”

“Right. Yeah, I know,” he breathes.

Dana pats his arm.

“I’ll call Dr. Rosen in. Good luck, Dad,” she says as she steps back over to her workstation.

Jack mumbles a ‘thanks’ as he starts moving on autopilot. He makes a beeline for the locker room to grab his bag and then heads straight for the parking lot.

He’s prepared for this moment in his last few therapy sessions. He just has to drive back home, ask you what you want from him, and do exactly that.

//

When he pulls into the driveway, he takes a minute to compose himself. As soon as he walks through the front door, he’ll be a rock, completely steady and dependable for you. His only priority is you and the baby.

After some deep breaths, he shuts the truck off and grabs his things before heading inside.

“Sweetheart?” he calls out as he locks the front door behind him.

“I’m in the kitchen,” you call out.

Jack drops his bag on the floor and pads into the kitchen to find you making sandwiches.

“Are you hungry?” you ask, looking up at him momentarily.

He smiles softly and walks up to you, wrapping his arms around your waist and pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“How’re you feeling?” he asks.

“Okay still,” you say as you cut both sandwiches diagonally. “I just had a contraction right before you walked in.”

Another kiss to your cheek. “Any progress?”

“No, it’s the same as when I called you.”

“Okay, um, do you want to sit at the table or on the couch?” he asks softly, stepping back to take both plates.

“Couch,” you decide.

He leads the way, setting both plates on the coffee table so he can help you get comfortable on the couch. Once you say you’re good, he hands you your plate and sits next to you.

After a minute of realizing what’s going on on the TV screen, Jack’s brows furrow.

“Wait, this fifteen-year-old is gay, and his hookup of choice is a 35-year-old?” he asks, looking from the screen to you.

You snort. “Yeah, but later in the show he gets with an age-appropriate guy, so it’s–” You sigh and clear your throat. “Fuck, that hurts. Anyways, this guy’s gonna be okay.”

Jack’s eyes go to his watch to time the contraction, his right hand offering itself to you, which you gladly take.

“I don’t even get to yell at you and tell you this is all your fault; I did this completely to myself,” you sigh as the contraction wanes.

Jack smiles sympathetically and brings your knuckles to his lips.

“Yell at me all you want,” he says softly. “You’re doing an incredible thing here for both of us, 

After lunch, Jack changes clothes and removes his prosthesis when he gets back to the couch. The two of you stay there for a couple of hours, softly talking over the TV as the contractions grow more intense.

“You’re doing good, sweetheart,” he mutters softly when another one comes. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you mutter softly, your grip easing up as the contraction lessens. “Can I sit on your lap?”

He’s a little surprised, but he nods anyway and scooches all the way back to the corner of the sectional, his legs straight in front of him. You lower yourself onto his lap, your back to the plush arm of the couch, one hand resting on Jack’s shoulder farthest from you, the other on your belly.

Jack joins hands with you on your belly and drapes his other arm around your shoulders.

“I’ve narrowed down my favorite names,” you say softly, head tucked under his chin.

“Let’s hear ‘em.”

“Vivian. Felicity. Colette. Amelie. And Charlotte has grown on me.”

“I’m happy with those,” he says softly. 

You press a soft kiss to Jack’s chest. “We’ll know when we see her.”

Jack hums in agreement and kisses the top of your head. 

//

Around 6:00 PM, things feel more intense. You’ve had contractions every 5 minutes, each lasting a minute, for the last half hour.

After asking what you want to do, Jack helps you to the car, triple-checking that the bags are in the trunk and that the baby’s car seat is in place. Before heading to the hospital, he goes through a Dairy Queen drive-thru, and the two of you eat dinner in your car. 

When you’re done, you start really making your way to the hospital. 

Triage goes well. Both you and the baby have good vital signs, contractions are consistent, and the cervical exam confirms that you are four and a half centimeters dilated. 

Check-in is easy, but it causes some anxiety. It’s all real. This is really happening. The baby you’ve wanted since you were a little girl playing with dolls is about to come into the world. You want her. You wanted her so badly, you made her all by yourself, and she’s about to come.

You’re about to get hooked up to monitors that tell you she’s really coming.

Jack holds your hand as the two of you are led to a room.

You hand the hospital gown back to the nurse in the interest of wearing the birthing gown you bought online after it was recommended to you by your cousin after she had her baby. The nurse, Rhiannon, hooks up the fetal monitor to your belly, though this one is sticky and allows for movement rather than the belts you’d seen on TV shows before.

“Okay, last thing is an IV, or what we can do is an IV port that isn’t connected to any tubes or wires until you decide that maybe you need an epidural or we end up needing to administer a different type of medication,” Rhiannon says as she readies her equipment. “Either way, I’ve gotta poke you.”

“Port sounds good.” You hand Rhiannon your arm with the best veins and turn your head toward Jack, who’s looking at you with the same awe he had in his eyes the first time he saw you naked and when you put his wedding ring on him in the courthouse.

As Rhiannon gets to work, she asks, “Do you know what you’re having?” in an easy voice, clearly confident in her ability to multitask.

“A girl,” you answer, smiling at Jack.

He reaches out a hand to tuck your hair behind your ear, his thumb caressing your cheekbone.

“Yay,” Rhiannon says, clearly smiling. “I love girls. I have two nieces. You guys are gonna love having a girl. Um, how long have the two of you been together?”

“Um,” both you and Jack say at the same time.

You laugh softly. “We got married about a month ago. We met, like, over three years ago when I moved in next door.”

“Neighbors to lovers, that’s so cute,” Rhiannon says as she finishes up. “Okay. I skimmed over your file before I walked in, but I think I remember seeing you wanted to wait on the epidural for freedom of movement, correct?”

You nod as you turn over to look at your nurse. “Yeah, that’s right.”

Rhiannon nods. “Okay, well, as soon as you do want it, if you end up wanting it, just press the call button, and I’ll come in, and we’ll find the anesthesiologist, okay? Perfect. Good luck, and I’ll check back in later.”

Then it’s just you and Jack, and a contraction hits almost as soon as the door shuts, and your fingernails dig into his skin.

He leans his forehead against yours, and with his free hand, he gently scratches your scalp.

Since you’ve stopped being able to talk through the contractions, he’s stopped talking to you during them. For one, you can’t answer, even if he is just praising you, and for two, he can only imagine how annoying the sound of his voice is going to get towards the end of this anyway, so he’ll keep his mouth shut as much as he can.

As the contraction wanes, you loosen your grip on Jack’s hand and let out a soft sigh.

“You okay?” he asks after a moment.

You nod and smile tiredly at him. “I love you.”

Jack smiles and pecks your lips. “I love you, too. I’m gonna dim the lights, okay? That sound good?”

You nod again.

He kisses your forehead before he stands and dims all the lights. It’s about 8:30 at night, so things are naturally winding down with the exception of your uterus and cervix.

When you’re satisfied with the lighting, you hold your hand out. Jack sits on the edge of the bed and takes your hand, putting his free hand on your belly.

“You’re doing really good, sweetheart,” he tells you, his expression one of sincerity and love. “You’re handling everything really well. I’m so proud of you.”

You smile and lean your forehead on his shoulder, sitting with your legs crisscross, your left knee brushing against his left thigh clad in soft sweatpants.

Jack tilts his head down to kiss your hair, his left hand gently brushing up and down your back.

“You wanna switch positions soon?” he asks softly.

You nod and look over at the birthing ball in the corner. He heads to the corner to bring the ball to the middle of the room, then helps you stand from the bed, a gentle hand at the small of your back as he leads you toward the ball. You take both his hands as you lower yourself onto the ball.

“Feel okay?” he asks softly, crouching in front of you, hands on your knees, fingertips brushing yours.

“Yeah,” you mutter softly.

You cup his jaw with both hands and lean in to kiss him. You can tell it surprises him at first, and you can’t really blame him, but after a few seconds, he starts reciprocating, his hands sliding up the length of your thighs to rest on your hips while you gently sway them on the ball.

When he hears you moan, out of pain and not pleasure, he pulls back, but you lean back in. 

Jack lets you take the lead. As soon as you pull him back in, he’s back to kissing you with all the love in his heart. His hands on your hips press in, hoping the counterpressure will help.

Once the contraction passes, you pull back, eyes glazed over as you look at him.

“The article I sent you a few weeks ago,” you say breathlessly. “On kissing and oxytocin and labor and stuff. Sorry, I thought you remembered.”

Realization hits him quickly.

“Oh,” he sighs, smiling softly. “Okay, I remember now. I’ll kiss you all you want.”

//

A few hours go by pretty peacefully. At around 9:15, Rhiannon comes in to do a cervical check and tells you you’re at six centimeters. She cracks a few jokes, keeping things light, and when she leaves, you tell Jack to make a reminder to nominate her for a DAISY award when you get home.

Around 11:30, the contractions pick up in intensity. In the middle of the room, you stand with your arms around Jack’s neck, face buried into his chest. He keeps his hands on your hips to deliver counterpressure during contractions, now two and a half minutes apart.

There’s a knock on the door, and the nurse who walks through isn’t Rhiannon.

“Hi,” she says. “Rhiannon is otherwise occupied at the moment, so I’ll be doing your cervical check. My name is Jane.”

She snaps some gloves on, and as you try to peel yourself off of Jack to greet the new nurse, another contraction hits. This one steals your breath and pulls an almost animalistic moan from your throat. You dig your fingernails into the back of Jack’s neck, but he doesn’t waver.

“Oh, honey, why don’t you just get the epidural already?” Jane asks. “There’s absolutely no reason for you to feel the need to cause all that ruckus and scratch up your husband’s neck. I’ll call the anesthesiologist.”

All this from your knockoff of Rhiannon before the contraction is even over, mind you. Jack doesn’t miss a beat.

“There’s absolutely no need for that,” he says immediately, hands still steady on your body. “If my wife wants an epidural, she’ll ask for one, and she certainly doesn’t need you to make decisions about her body without even giving her time to think. Now, if you don’t mind, she’ll opt out of the cervical check for now. We’re happy to wait for Rhiannon.”

Eventually, you hear the door open and close, and once the contraction is over, you look up at Jack.

What a man.

“Am I really scratching up your neck?” you ask with a soft and feeble voice. “Or being too loud?”

He shakes his head. “No, of course not, and don’t worry about it anymore.”

You sigh softly and press your cheek to his chest.

“Could you do the cervical check?” you ask. “I feel like I should be further along, and I don’t wanna wait to find out.”

It’s a little bit surprising to hear this request, but if he’s going to catch the baby in a few hours, he can definitely check to see how dilated you are. Hopefully you’re nearing the end, and he can inspire some motivation with the news.

He nods and kisses your forehead.

“Yeah, sweetheart. Let’s get you back on the bed for a second,” he says softly as he guides you back toward the bed.

Once he’s got you in a good position, he heads to the counter and takes some sterile gloves, then heads back to the bed where he takes a look, and for about a minute, he’s both your husband and a doctor.

“I do want an epidural,” you say breathily while Jack checks you. “I just want to be the one to ask for it. I’m asking for it, Jack. Unless you say I’m at a ten, I’m asking for a fucking epidural.”

Jack nods and looks up at you, simultaneously pulling the gloves off.

“You’re at a seven. Do you want me to step out and ask for you?” he asks.

If you press the call button, fucking Jane might come back in, and hers is the last face you want to see even if you didn’t get a good look at it.

You nod and reach for his hand, another contraction building. He lets you pull him in for a kiss, doing anything you can to minimize the pain before you get some real relief.

It’s somewhat strange, kissing you in this situation. It’s not doing anything for him in the way kisses this passionate usually do, but it’s causing another emotion entirely. 

You’re so in control, and he’ll do anything to make sure you keep that. He’ll kiss you through the pain, he’ll rub your hips, he’ll let you scratch up his skin, he’ll tell off a nurse for you. Anything you want. The admiration he has for you right now is unlike anything ever before.

You’re such an incredible woman; he already knew that. But witnessing you bring life into this world and stay so strong through it all is strengthening his feelings toward you. Not that they ever faltered.

When it’s over, you pull back, and Jack exits the room as quickly as possible. Thankfully, the first nurse he sees at the nurse’s station is one he knows.

“Hey, Abbot,” she greets as he approaches.

He smiles but gets right to the point. “My wife wants an epidural. Where’s the anesthesiologist?"

“Uh, she’s finishing up with a patient right now, but there’s no one else waiting. Do you know how many centimeters she was at the last cervical check?”

“Seven, just a few minutes ago.”

The nurse nods. “Okay, I’ll send her in in a few minutes.”

He quickly thanks the nurse and heads back to your room, making it just in time for your next contraction. 

Just as he walks through the door, you reach your hand out, whimpering softly. He grabs your hand and reaches around with his free one to rub your back.

This time, he kisses you, moaning softly against you every so often to get your mind literally anywhere else besides this room.

When it’s over, and you lean your forehead against his, he tells you that the epidural is on its way.

“You’re doing really good, sweetheart,” he says softly. “I’ve seen lots of labors and deliveries, but this… It’s incredible. You’re doing such a hard thing so amazingly.” He pauses and kisses your cheek. “I’m more in love with you, and I didn’t think that was possible. You’re gonna be such a good mom. I know it. Our baby girl’s so lucky to have you.”

A silent tear falls down your cheek, brow furrowed as you focus on his face, every wrinkle, every freckle, every short hair of his stubbly beard and the smooth and gravelly sound of his voice.

Jack doesn’t tell you not to cry. He just smiles softly and wordlessly wipes your tears with the back of his knuckle.

“I love you,” he whispers. “I’m so lucky to be here.”

You shake your head and reach out to cup his cheek. 

“It’s not luck, Jack,” you say softly, your voice thick with emotion. “I chose you. You chose me and this baby, and I chose you back.”

He leans in for another kiss. This one just because, not particularly for pain relief, even if that’s an added plus.

You breathe him in, and take his hand and guide it to the side of your bump. He feels your skin tighten underneath his palm with another contraction. He keeps his hand perfectly still, hoping not to overstimulate you, and keeps kissing you.

After it passes, you stand with Jack again, only this time with your back to his chest. He holds your belly up for you one last time, taking the weight off your back for you, his lips pressed to your hair as the two of you slowly sway. You rest your palms on his forearms and stare across the room at the baby warmer, empty for now.

Soon, the anesthesiologist comes in and sets up for the epidural. She lets Jack stay in the room for the procedure and instructs him to stand in front of you, hands in yours.

Once it’s administered, and you’re in a comfortable position on your side, and the room is cleared, Jack turns off almost all the lights. He brings one of the chairs up to your bedside and holds your hand.

Within a few minutes, the epidural kicks in, and your eyes start to droop.

“Feeling good?” he asks softly, bringing a hand to cup your belly over the blanket.

You nod, a happy smile on your face. “Yeah, I can finally sleep now.”

Jack pulls his phone out of his pocket and props it up against your water bottle on the side table to record a video.

You cover his hand on your bump and admire the sight of your wedding rings and hospital bracelets brushing against each other.

“What are you most excited about becoming a mom?” he asks softly.

You hum thoughtfully. 

“Shaping a person,” you say. “Showing her things and watching her form her own opinions on them.”

Jack smiles and nods along.

“What about you?” you ask.

Jack sighs and chews on the inside of his cheek. “Probably the same. Just getting to witness her and see her grow and learn and experience the world.”

You smile brightly at him, and he leans in to peck your lips.

“Okay, last chance for betting,” he says.

You giggle softly and shut your eyes as you think, then open them again.

“She’ll come after 6:00 AM, seven pounds and ten ounces, 19 inches long. That’s my guess,” you say. 

“My guess is before 6:00 AM, eight pounds and one ounce, 20 inches long.”

You smile. “Either way, I’m excited to meet her.”

“Me, too,” Jack says softly, reaching out to tuck your hair behind your ear. “I already love her like crazy.”

Your smile widens, and you squeeze his hand. “I know. She’s gonna be perfect.”

“Yeah,” he whispers. “Just like you.”

He leans in to peck your lips, and before he pulls away, you mumble out an “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” Then he stops the video and puts his phone in his pocket. 

“You wanna get some rest?” he asks softly, his hand moving from your hair to your cheek, his thumb brushing back and forth against your skin.

You nod. “I love you, baby.”

Jack leans in for another kiss. “I love you, too, sweetheart. I’ll stay right here.”

“Take your prosthesis off,” you remind him.

He nods and leans back in his chair and pulls his pant leg up. Once it’s off, he places it out of the way but still in reach. By the time he looks back at you, your breathing is deeper. 

He smiles and leans down to kiss your bump for possibly the last time.

“I’ll see you soon, baby girl,” he whispers.

//

At almost 3:30 AM, Rhiannon comes back in for another cervical check.

Jack wakes first.

“Hi,” she says, speaking softly. “It’s time for another cervical check.” She snaps on some sterile gloves. “I find that it’s better for you to wake her up than me.”

Jack nods and gently rubs your shoulder to wake you. He presses a kiss to your cheek and whispers for you to wake up.

Your eyes flutter and land on Jack.

“Rhiannon’s back to check your dilation,” he says softly.

You nod, and Rhiannon helps you turn over on your back while Jack puts his prosthesis back on.

When she’s done checking you over, Rhiannon smiles.

“It’s baby time,” she says as she pulls the gloves off. “I saw in your chart that you wanted to use the squat bar, lower your epidural dose to push, and that if there were no complications that you wanted Jack to catch the baby. Still good with all that?”

You nod, yawning softly.

Rhiannon gets everything ready, and soon the bed is modified to accommodate the squat bar. Your OB-GYN, who was thankfully working the night shift, comes in, along with a second nurse, and suddenly, you’re just waiting for the next contraction so you can push.

You were a little nervous that pushing would take hours, but after only about 40 minutes of pushing and grunting and Jack whispering praise in your ear, your doctor smiles.

“Abbot, it’s your turn,” she says as she steps to the side.

You turn your face toward Jack, sweat dotting your hairline but the biggest sparkle of excitement in your eyes. You lean in for a peck, and Jack whispers, “I love you, sweetheart.”

“I love you, too,” you sniffle, smiling brightly.

Jack gets into position, your OB behind him, clearly monitoring the situation, but Jack’s delivered hundreds of babies, even just delivered one last week, so she’s not too worried about him biting off more than he can chew here.

Once he’s got sterile gloves on, he gets his hands into position.

“Alright, sweetheart,” he sighs, letting the doctor inside of him take over just a bit, though it’s clear the man in front of you is still your husband first and foremost. “On the next contraction, give me a big push.”

Rhiannon counts for you as you push. You white-knuckle the squat bar and breathe deeper than you ever have as you bear down.

“Good, good, good,” Jack mutters softly, his hands on the baby’s head, holding back tears by the grace of God. “You’re doing so good, sweetheart.”

With a soft whimper, you take a break from pushing.

“You’re doing great,” your doctor says from behind Jack. “Less than five pushes, I’d say.”

You nod and focus on your breathing.

“You wanna feel her hair?” Jack asks. “She’s got a lot.”

“Mhm,” you hum softly, the lack of sleep catching up to you.

Jack takes your hand and guides it between your legs.

“That’s not me?” you joke.

The entire room lets out a soft chuckle, with the exception of Rhiannon, who snorts softly into her shoulder.

“No,” Jack says, eyes crinkling as he smiles. “That’s our baby; she’s got a lotta hair.”

You smile and take a steadying breath as another contraction builds.

“Okay, sweetheart, you got this,” he says softly, growing serious again as he focuses on the baby.

That push delivers the head.

“Perfect,” Jack praises. “Just a couple more, sweetheart, let’s get the shoulders out.”

Two pushes later, the air is pierced by a sharp but oddly beautiful cry.

“She sounds kind of like a bird,” someone remarks. “So cute!”

You let out a sob of relief and hold your hands out as Jack places her on your chest.

Looking down at the squirming infant is all it takes to fall completely in love with her.

“Hi, baby girl,” you coo at her, holding your hands over her back so she doesn’t get cold. “Hi. Hi, sweetie. I’m your mama.”

At some point, Jack has moved from your legs and peeled his gloves off because now you feel his hand on your shoulder and hear him whispering in your ear, “You did so good.”

The baby continues to cry, but seems to begin to settle on your chest.

“Wow, you’re really here,” you whisper, tears streaming down your face uncontrollably. “I love you so much, beautiful baby girl.”

You look up at Jack on instinct, and tears are streaming down his face. He kisses your temple, then gently gives the baby his finger so she can wrap her first around it.

“Hi, baby girl,” he whispers. “I’m your daddy.” He sniffs. “Wow, you look just like your mom, sweetie.”

At the sound of her daddy’s voice, the cries die down into softer whimpers, still mad about leaving her warm home, but obviously happy Mom and Dad are near.

You press your lips against her head, uncaring about all the gunk on her head.

“Oh, God, she’s amazing,” you sigh, eyes shutting for a moment as you soak it all in.

You look over at Jack, and he smooths your hair back.

“You did incredible,” he whispers, eyes red-rimmed as he lets his tears fall.

You smile and blink out your own tears. “I love you. Thank you for catching her.”

Jack smiles back and kisses your cheek, then you turn to kiss his lips.

After another moment, you feel the need to push again. You swear softly under your breath and gently push on instinct. After about a minute, you vaguely hear your doctor tell you the placenta’s out, and you sigh relieved again.

“You’re all done,” Jack tells you. “You both did amazing.”

Once the cord turns white, Jack cuts it, and a few minutes later, the second nurse takes the baby over to the warmer to do some testing.

You send Jack over after he takes his shirt off, excited to see him actually hold the baby for the first time.

Jack stands near the baby warmer, eyes following his daughter’s every move as the nurse weighs, measures, and does everything else.

“Okay,” the nurse sighs, smiling at the screen that says all the levels are good. “Baby Abbot is seven pounds and eight ounces and 19 inches long. Five-minute APGAR score of ten. Congratulations. Jack, you can hold her now.”

Excitedly but carefully, Jack reaches his hands around the baby’s body and brings her to his chest. The nurse helps him cover her with a blanket, then he walks over to the chair by your bed.

Once everything else is determined to be okay, everyone leaves the room with soft whisperings of congratulations.

Jack sighs and smiles at you with all the love in his heart.

“You’re both incredible,” he says. “I’m in awe of you.”

You smile tiredly and sigh contentedly. “I’m so fucking happy.”

Jack smiles again, then stands and hands the baby back to you.

Soon, a lactation consultant comes in and helps you and the baby figure out the latch. Once you get the hang of it, you’re left alone again.

“Charlotte,” you say softly, looking at the baby.

Jack nods, the back of his finger caressing her cheek. “Charlotte Vivian Abbot?”

He looks to you to gauge your reaction. You smile.

“I like that,” you mutter softly.

Charlotte Vivian Abbot. Seven pounds and eight ounces. 19 inches long. Born at 4:26 AM on September 6, 2026.

Perfection in a very small package.

//

You and Jack manage to sleep for close to an hour before the baby is restless. After nursing, you’re starving, but luckily, Rhiannon brings you some breakfast before her shift ends.

“It’s not the best food, so if you’ve got people coming, you should ask them to bring you some food. Though, you can get food delivered, too. Anyway, my shift is ending, but I wanted to tell the little birdie and her sweet parents goodbye,” she says.

You smile and look down at the baby. 

“Birdie,” you muse. “That’s cute.” Then you look back at Rhiannon. “You’ve been really incredible. I can’t thank you enough.”

Rhiannon smiles and shrugs. “I’m just happy things went well. You three make a very cute family. Okay, I’ve got a breakfast date, so I’ve gotta go. Bye, guys.”

Then she’s gone.

“Birdie,” you sigh, smiling at the baby. “I like that, it’s cute.”

Jack sends the birth announcement to his parents, your mom and stepdad, his sister, then Robby and Dana.

After that, he puts his phone on “Do Not Disturb” and puts his focus on you and Birdie. A little later, though, he notices a text from his mom asking if it’s okay to call at some point. You say it’s fine, and Jack steps out into the hall, leaving you alone with the baby.

You had put her into a pink onesie so she wouldn’t get cold once the hospital AC started blowing a little too hard for your liking. 

Your little pink baby is finally here. She’s tiny and perfect and yours.

You hold her up by her armpits for just a moment, still supporting her head. The two of you just look at each other for a moment. Her face is scrunched up, but she’s perfect.

It’s hard to put into words how you’re feeling right now. You wanted this baby enough to raise her on your own. Jack is outside the door, but there was once a very real reality where he wasn’t supposed to be. 

And looking at her right now, it’s so clear to you that it would absolutely be worth it to be her mom by yourself. Anything hard that would come with raising her on your own would have been worth it, because the look in your daughter’s eyes that you can’t name is telling you that it all would’ve been okay.

You’re incredibly fortunate to have Jack by your side, but you could handle Birdie alone, and so could he. She’s worth all the pain in the world that got you both to the place of being her parents.

You bring her back to your chest and soak in her snuggly body and soft baby noises. You kiss her downy hair and keep your hands secure on her back.

“One day, I’m gonna tell you all about how you got here,” you say softly. “Just know for now that it was all very special and very precious, just like you, little Birdie, and that Mommy and Daddy love you very much.”

end author's note: wow the baby is here and I feel like I gave birth myself bc this series is such a labor of love lol. original Doctor Google was meant to be a one-shot, so thank you to everyone who believed in this story's potential and politely asked for more <3 pls let me know what you want to see from this story! (requests are open for that) after hearing about when s3 of The Pitt is going to be set, it is safe to say I will probably never reference canon again (at least in a big way), so pretty much anything is possible over here. thank you guys so much for reading! I know I have no schedule for this series at all and that can be annoying, so anyone loyally reading along is a fucking G in my book. for anyone who ever feels like you're annoying leaving persistent comments, whether it's an emoji or a more thoughtful comment, I guarantee you that you are not annoying, and in fact are someone I look forward to getting notifications from. I'm crazy; I see everything. ily all and pls be well <3

p.s. for anyone who is curious: Birdie is a virgo sun, cancer moon, and leo rising

All works taglist:  @person-005 @madpanda75 @tearsweetenedtea @canonisoptional @xoxoloverb @saralovesjoelmiller @youknowiloveyou-so

All Shawn Hatosy works taglist: @realwhoreforfictionalmen  @ezmina98 @hehehehahahohohuhu @janeety @jennataurus @esmemia16 @rumoured-whispers @1dhoe93 @dopeasope

Jack Abbot taglist: @michasia24 @its--fandom--darling @staygoldsquatchling02 @starstruckl @overthyme24 @hoziersguitarr @thehockeynerd30 @louisbelongstome28

Doctor Google taglist: @itsmycorneroftheinternet @myhopefulcollectionqueenfan-blog @karleyyyjaeee @laughsandlivia @babyspiceeeeeeee @merlin-288 @cari87 @kidd3ath @saralovesjoelmiller @agamayayayaya @nyxmoretti @ubiquitous-corvids @bookluver14 @thehockeynerd30 @cafereads @sukunasnumberoneslut @imaginesnnerd @whatliesaheadmatters

p.s. if you would like to be removed from any taglist, just let me know! and if you would like to join a taglist or change your current preferences, click here! <3

[dreamedaboutitinthedark]

Chronological One Shots (following same pairing)

1. Doctor Google

2. Doctor Feel Better

3. Doctor Love

4. Doctor Biceps

5. Doctor Decision-Maker

6. Doctor Fiancé

7. Doctor Husband

Drabbles

Babygirl Looking Like Jack (not canon; a silly “what if?”)

[chris-tredidation21]

I highkey mad at myself for taking this long to read this amazing series OMG 😭😭😭

I love that U mention jack's first wife throughout and that still he talkes to her!!

[dreamedaboutitinthedark]

oh my goodness I’m just so happy you enjoyed!! tysm for reading and reblogging and the kind words!!! 💞💞

[dreamedaboutitinthedark]

Doctor Love

Summary: Things between you and Jack grow more serious as you enter the last ten weeks of your pregnancy. From baby showers to picking nursery colors, Jack's a rock for you through it all.

Pairing: Jack Abbot x Pregnant!Reader

Content warnings: MDNI, pregnancy, slight discussion of pregnant body, hair-pulling, oral sex (F receiving), mention of adoption, allusions to s2 Robby behavior, Jack "I'll Pay For It" Abbot, brief mention of erectile dysfunction, quickie in a parking lot, semi-public sex, possibility of getting caught, Robby cameo, fluff!, smidge of angst (so tiny; blink and you'll miss it)

Word count: 5,687

Read on ao3 here | Series Masterlist

Author's note: read this with s2 happening a week later in mind! I have great plans (finally). if there's anything you want to see from these two, either before or after babygirl comes, lmk! thank you for reading! <3

Adjusting to working days has been going far better than Jack anticipated. Of course, the first few days sucked as he readjusted the sleeping schedule he kept pretty strictly for about four years, but once he got over that, he was content.

He still felt “comfortable in the darkness”, but you’re always there now, a beaming light amidst the dark. In the dark, at night, the two of you will sit on the couch, usually his place, because he has everything accessible for him here, and you actually really like being in Jack’s space. The two of you will watch a show or a movie, and he’ll subconsciously rub your belly, a gentle caress with the back of his knuckles, sometimes an incessant press against the side so he can feel the baby’s kicks.

You always lean into him, and the fact that you feel so safe with him, trust him so much with the most important part of your life, means everything to Jack, and he tells you often.

Working the day shift also means he spends more time with Robby. The other attending has certainly been wondering about why his friend switched to day shifts. He has a feeling, but he isn’t quite sure he wants to ask Jack point-blank yet.

Is Robby dying to tease him and give him a hard time for falling for his pregnant neighbor?

Yeah, of fucking course he is.

But Jack lost his wife four years ago, worked the night shift so he could hide from all the good things in the world which made him yearn for his wife and bury himself in melancholy.

Robby doesn’t know you, but he knows if you can get Jack working the day shift, you must be worth facing the light.

Jack has been speaking to his therapist about the situation. The therapist is a little worried about it. Jack had kept his feelings about you close to the vest, not all that eager to talk about the crush he developed on his single, pregnant neighbor as she kept involving him in her pregnancy.

Here’s a man who thrives on chaos, works as an emergency medicine physician at the best trauma center in the state, and works shifts with S.W.A.T. “when they need a hand.”

In his therapist’s eyes, Jack has very quickly made himself an integral part of the life of an expectant woman, whom he hadn’t mentioned much in therapy before a few weeks ago, beyond briefly mentioning that “my next-door neighbor asked me for a list of fertility doctors. That made me feel good because it made me feel trustworthy and competent.”

So, it’s no surprise to Jack that his therapist is in shock, hoping his client is being cautious.

However, his therapist has advised Jack to start letting people in on what’s been going on in his life, starting with Robby.

Tonight in bed, Jack pulls the covers over your bodies and turns his head to kiss your cheek, earning a soft hum from you, who’s very invested in the article on baby names.

“I tell you about Robby? Friend from work?” he asks softly.

You nod, still scrolling through the article on your phone. “He okay?”

In all honesty, Jack’s noticed that Robby seems a little off lately, but not enough for him to tell you, someone who doesn’t know him, about it.

“Just… You’ll be 30 weeks in two days. Figure I should at least formally tell the guy who has me listed as his emergency contact that I’m having a baby with you,” Jack says, trying to keep his tone even and calm.

Finally, you put your phone down and look at Jack.

“Yeah.” You nod and look from his lips to his eyes. “I mean, you can tell whoever you want. Um, which reminds me: I’m researching adoption lawyers. We can get the paperwork started before she’s born, if you’re comfortable.”

Jack chews on the inside of his cheek. Adoption lawyers before she’s even out of you. He’s about to be half responsible for another life.

Wow. 

You end up taking his silence as hesitation and furrow your brow.

“Having second thoughts?” you murmur softly.

His eyes widen, and he shakes his head. “Oh. Fuck. No, sweetheart, I’m just surprised you could start paperwork before she’s even here. I didn’t mean to make you think that. I want this—I want her. I’ll sign anything that lets me be her dad.”

Jack watches the tension leave your body, and he smiles softly at you. He leans forward, cupping your cheek before he presses a soft kiss to your lips.

“So, there’s something else I wanna talk to you about,” you say when he pulls away.

“What’s that?”

“All her nursery stuff is in my garage. I haven’t slept in my bed in three weeks. You’ve got everything set up the way you need here, and the money I’d get from selling my house could kickstart her college fund. If you’re going to adopt her, and you and I are…heading in that direction, why don’t we seriously consider setting up her nursery here?”

He nods thoughtfully. “Mhm. You don’t want me to move into your place?”

You shrug. “You’ve got all your stuff here, and for a man, you’ve done a surprisingly good job decorating the place.”

“For a man,” he repeats, smirking as he turns on his side, propping himself up with his elbow.

“Mhm.”

“Y’know, I was gonna bring this up tomorrow. I was gonna have Robby cover me for an hour, and I was gonna take you out to lunch and propose the idea of living together.”

You smile and lean forward, covering his exposed chest in soft kisses.

Jack’s hand goes to your hair, tangling his fingers through it.

“You’re sweet,” you mumble against his skin.

His hand tightens in your hair, and you’re throbbing.

“So thoughtful,” you moan, moving toward his neck, still just kissing.

“You’re mean,” he counters, his voice low and gravely. “Stealing my move-in proposal from me.”

When Jack feels your teeth graze his neck, he pulls you back with the grip he has on your hair.

“I can’t have patients thinking I’m a sixteen-year-old boy stuck in a middle-aged man’s body,” he says, his voice low and a little joking.

“Jack…” you whine, trying to go back in, but the grip he has on your hair is too tight.

He holds your head steady and brings his lips to the underside of your jaw, the grip on your hair still tight. When he tightens his hold to keep you from squirming, you let out a soft squeal that has him pulling back to look you in the eyes.

“Too much?”

You shake your head, your breathing growing deeper.

“Let me eat you out,” he rasps, confident now that he knows you’re okay.

With a heavy sigh, you nod your head, and Jack releases the grip he had on your hair.

He disappears under the covers and hikes up your oversized t-shirt, baring your naked cunt to his eyes.

“Already weeping for me,” Jack mumbles underneath the covers.

“That’s just my perpetual state these days,” you mutter in response.

Jack smiles, then dives right in. He doesn’t waste time teasing you. You’re both tired, but he knows that as soon as he started tugging on your hair, he wasn’t going to sleep until he made you come. You’d spend the next thirty minutes whining and tossing and turning if he didn’t lick your cunt. 

So his tongue moves up and down, side to side, circling your clit as he inserts a thick finger in your entrance, thrusting in and out in time with your breathy moans.

You warn him of your impending orgasm with a high-pitched voice, and Jack sucks your clit between his teeth, lapping you up until you pull him off by his hair.

He crawls up the length of your body, his hands planted by your shoulders.

“Taste yourself,” he whispers before bringing his finger to your mouth.

He shoves it in with no preamble, and you immediately moan and gag around it as he moves it in and out of your mouth, the rough pad of his finger gently scraping against your tongue.

When you swear he’s about to tickle the back of your throat, he pulls it out, but you don’t have a chance to breathe as he smashes his cum-stained lips against yours, giving you a second taste.

“Fuck,” you moan against his lips, your hands going to his shoulder and the back of his neck.

“So pretty,” Jack rasps as he pulls back and lies back down beside you, his hand going to rest on your bump, something he can’t seem to fall asleep without the last three weeks.

You take a few steadying breaths and close your eyes.

“We’ll move you in this weekend,” Jack mumbles, which has you opening your eyes and turning your head toward him.

His eyes are closed. Of course, he’d be so nonchalant about that.

“And we’ll get started on the nursery,” he adds. “Wanna do pink walls or something gender neutral in case we have a boy next? Save us the trouble for next time?”

You let out a soft scoff and shake your head. “Babygirl isn’t even out of me yet, and you’re already talking about putting a boy in me. First of all, hold your horses. Second of all, we aren’t boy parents.”

Jack chuckles softly under his breath and smiles, his eyes still closed. “Pink walls it is.”

//

On Thursday night, Jack comes home with pink swatches and samples in his arms.

“If you can pick one by tomorrow, I’ll do it while you’re at the baby shower on Saturday,” he tells you as he sets everything down on the coffee table before joining you on the couch.

You sit up and lean forward, inspecting all the different shades of pink he brought home.

“Which room?” you ask, looking up at him now.

He shrugs. “Whichever you want, but I was thinking the one closest to ours.”

Hearing the word “ours” in reference to Jack’s, now also yours, feels so good.

Ours. Yours and Jack’s. Together.

“I think that’s perfect.”

//

Friday, Jack gets off work early and calls Shen over to your house to help him move everything that you want to keep over to his house.

You’re not sure how he got the night shift attending to agree to wake up an hour early to come help Jack move his pregnant girlfriend into his house, but you’re grateful nonetheless.

To make yourself useful, you bring over the two lamps you cared enough about, as well as some blankets and decor Jack deemed light enough for you to carry across the yard.

Shen stays until 6:15, and Jack tells you he’ll get Robby to help him with the rest tomorrow.

Jack joins you on the couch once Shen leaves, a heavy sigh falling from his mouth.

“So you just have her crib and changing table so far, right?” he asks, his voice soft.

You laugh softly at that. He’s barely sat down after the nine-hour shift at the E.D., and he’s spent two hours moving your stuff into his house, and now he’s inquiring about the baby’s nursery situation. He’s got to chill.

“Yeah, just the big things. And the dresser I ordered should come by Monday. I put everything else on the registry, and whatever I don’t get at the shower tomorrow, I’ll buy,” you reply, your hand reaching up to Jack’s hair, twisting a gray curl with your finger.

“I’ll buy,” Jack murmurs softly, his eyes closing as you play with his hair.

You narrow your eyes even though his are closed, and you sigh. It’s not that you don’t want Jack to contribute. It’s just something you hadn’t thought about until right now. Sure, you’ve started calling him the baby’s father, broached the subject of searching for an adoption lawyer, but you didn’t stop and think about how you won’t bear 100% of the financial burden of having a child.

“You spent the money to get her in you in the first place,” Jack points out, leaning his head into your hand. “Spent the money on her crib, and I did catch a glimpse of your guest room; I saw the absurd amount of baby clothes folded on the bed. Can only imagine how much you’ve spent on baby clothes already. Let me handle everything else.”

You don’t say anything for a moment, and that’s when he opens just one eye.

“Okay?” he asks expectantly.

With a smile, you nod. “Okay.”

There’s a moment of silence spent with your hand just playing in his hair, both of his eyes closed again, before you hold back a smirk and ask, “Does this make you my sugar daddy now?”

Jack opens one eye again, this time glaring just slightly.

“Not going to dignify that with a response,” he mumbles.

//

It’s 9:30 in the morning when Jack wakes up to the soft sounds of some Fleetwood Mac song playing in the bathroom. The bathroom door is shut, but he can hear you humming along and occasionally talking to the baby. He turns his head to look at the alarm clock again, now reading 9:32. He’s supposed to get you to the event center, where your mom is holding your baby shower, by 12:00, and it’s 40 minutes away. He’s got time to be lazy.

You come out a few minutes later, your skin dewy from whatever skin products you use that have taken up half the counter space, still in your pajamas: panties and one of his old P.T. shirts. 

He smiles at you, and you crawl up the bed, settling on his lap.

“Sorry it’s no boys allowed today,” you murmur softly, tracing hearts on his lower abdomen with your fingertip.

“Not a big deal. I didn’t want to paint the nursery with you around to breathe all the fumes anyway,” he says, placing his hands on your hips, his thumbs stroking back and forth on the bottom of your bump.

You giggle softly, your shoulders shaking slightly. “Is that seriously a thing?”

“Not too big a thing. Still, though. Better if you’re out opening presents while I breathe in all the fumes.”

With a cheeky smile, you lean down to kiss his lips, but you end up arching your body in a weird way to accommodate your bump, which has you grunting on the way up.

“Babygirl’s getting big,” he murmurs, smiling up at you like you’ve hung the moon by growing along with your baby as she grows inside you.

“Getting in the way,” you correct under your breath.

“She’s perfect,” Jack defends, his brow furrowing in faux offense for his daughter. Then his face relaxes again. “And so are you. You look so beautiful this morning.”

You raise your eyebrows and beam down at him.

“I’m going to finish getting ready, then can you make breakfast, and after that, help me into my dress? Sound okay?” you ask softly, your thumbs stroking his V-line as you look into his eyes.

“Yeah, I got that. What are you feeling this morning?” he asks, his hands now rubbing over the expanse of your belly.

“Sausage,” you answer.

Jack waits for more, like eggs or oatmeal or pancakes, but your lips stay closed.

“That’s all?”

You nod, and Jack would like to convince you to eat something with your sausage, but it’s the day of your baby shower. He can bug you about nutrients tomorrow.

You get off Jack’s lap and head back to the bathroom while he puts his prosthesis on and gets dressed. 

The Fleetwood Mac album you were listening to earlier has been traded for another album he can’t place as he heads into the bathroom to brush his teeth.

He spends the entire two minutes watching you flit about, finishing getting ready, and he can’t stop thinking about how beautiful you look. He might use the word “radiant” if he didn’t think it’d sound so corny coming out of his mouth.

When he’s done, he kisses your shoulder and heads to the kitchen, where he makes you sausage and nothing else, because that’s what you asked for.

You come out a little later, all done up except for your clothes, and Jack thinks there hasn’t been a more beautiful woman to ever walk the earth.

“Fuck, sweetheart, you look so beautiful,” he says softly as you approach him to take the plate he has for you in his hands.

“Really? I haven’t even put on my dress yet.”

Jack shakes his head. 

“Don’t care. You look amazing,” he says as he follows you to the kitchen table.

After breakfast is consumed, you head to the bedroom to steam the dress, and Jack helps you into it, making little comments about how beautiful you look, how the shade of pink complements your skin so nicely.

The drive over is peaceful. You’re sure you’ll be overwhelmed by the time it’s over. Your mom has invited a lot of people, though you aren’t sure how many are actually coming. Mostly, you think you’ll be annoyed at how many people will want to touch your stomach.

You really don’t mind when it’s Wanda from the office. She’s older, and she always asks, and she’s always quick, and she always offers actual good advice about things you wouldn’t think about, like what got her kids through teething and things like that, nothing unwanted.

“When do you want me to come get you?” Jack asks once you’re about five minutes away from the destination.

“Uh, maybe around 4:00, but I’ll text you if I get restless in there,” you say, a slight joking tone to your voice.

When Jack parks his truck near the back, he shuts it off and sighs, then looks at you.

“You really look beautiful,” he says again, his voice dripping with sincerity.

You smile and lean your head back against the seat. 

“Wanna fuck?” you ask, with such a pretty smile on your face that Jack thinks he might choke on his own saliva.

“Baby, you’re the guest of honor today, and you’re expected to be in there in five minutes,” he reminds you, white-knuckling the steering wheel.

“Come on,” you whine. “You and I both know I can come in under three these days.”

“What about the man who’s fighting off erectile dysfunction every day?!” Jack asks, laughing at himself as he speaks.

“You really want me to go into my baby shower all horny and worked up?” you pout.

He sighs and puts the console up, creating more space in the front seat. He scoots over to the middle and makes quick work of his belt and fly.

You hike your dress up and push your panties to the side before quickly sinking down on him, pulling a soft grunt from Jack.

There isn’t any time to be wasted; you start moving up and down on him immediately, while Jack brings one hand to your clit and the other to pinch your nipple through the fabric of your dress, which has you whining into his mouth.

With how fast you’re surprisingly moving your hips, Jack’s already mumbling into your mouth about how close he is, and the notion that he’s so gone for you that he can come in such a short timeframe is enough to have you gushing and clamping on his cock, sending Jack over the edge with you.

“Oh, you’re so fucking gorgeous,” he pants as he comes down, his hands groping every curve of your body.

You raise your hips, and he slips out. Jack quickly slides your panties back into place and presses his palm against your clothed pussy in order to keep you from leaking his cum.

“Keep me in there,” he mumbles, maybe more to himself than you.

Then he looks up and readjusts the strap of your dress.

“Want me to walk you inside?” he asks softly.

As you crawl out of his lap and into the passenger seat, still catching your breath, you mull the question over.

If everyone already knew Jack, you’d say yes, but no one knows Jack. You’re a little worried people may bombard him with questions you don’t want him to have to answer.

“Everyone’s gonna wanna talk to you,” you say, your tone giving away your thoughts.

“I’ll tell ‘em I have stuff to do,” he replies softly. “You want me to walk you in?”

You chew on your bottom lip for a second. Almost everyone in there still thinks you’re voluntarily becoming a single mom, and there’s nothing wrong with it. You were happy to do it, but Jack wants you. He wants you in all your knocked-up-by-a-stranger’s-frozen-sperm glory, and you just fucked the shit out of him not two minutes ago.

Why wouldn’t you want him to walk you into the baby shower for your and his baby?

You nod, and Jack smiles and gets out of the truck, then rounds the hood to open your door. He takes your hand and walks you over to the entrance, which has a pink and white balloon arch over the doorway.

“I can’t tell if I think it’s tacky or cute,” you mumble to Jack as you squeeze his hand.

He shrugs. “I think it’s meant to be both.”

You step through the door with Jack’s hand still in yours. At the front of the hall, you spot your mother, both your grandmothers, a few aunts, cousins, and some old friends. 

There are pink decorations everywhere, presents fill a table on the side wall, and a table full of finger foods is against the opposite wall.

“This is nice,” Jack says beside you.

You turn and see him genuinely smiling.

“Your mom put together a nice shower,” he whispers in your ear just as your mom comes over.

“Oh, you’re huge!” she exclaims, but you can tell by her tone that she means it in the best way possible.

“Gee, thanks, Mom,” you scoff.

“Give me a hug,” she insists, already wrapping her arms around you.

Over your shoulder, she makes eye contact with Jack.

“You must be the doctor-neighbor-boyfriend-man,” she says before kissing your cheek and pulling away to look at both of you. “I have to ask, for my daughter’s sake,” she continues, and you can already tell where this is going. “You don’t have a strange affinity for expectant women, do you?”

You sigh because you knew it was coming, but Jack’s eyes practically bug out of his head.

“E-Excuse me?” he stutters, completely taken aback by your mother’s question. “No, ma’am, I can assure you that what I feel for your daughter started before she got pregnant. We just happened to grow closer over the last 30-ish weeks.”

Your mother looks from Jack to you, then nods.

“If my daughter’s happy, then I’m happy.” She sighs and smiles softly at both of you. “Well, it’s still no boys allowed, but would you like a finger sandwich or a cookie, Jack?”

Jack looks from your mother to you, then back at her, and smiles. “I actually have to get going. Gonna paint the nursery today while she’s here. I didn’t want her breathing in the fumes.”

Your mom nods, clearly pleased with Jack’s forethought. 

“Good idea. I guess I’ll see you when she gets antsy to go home,” your mother says, brushing a hand over your hair, which makes you fight the instinct to squirm under her touch.

“Alright,” Jack murmurs. He puts a possessive hand on your belly and pecks your cheek. “Text me when you’re ready.”

“Okay. And drive my car back, please. More room for all the stuff than in your truck.”

“Got it.”

As Jack walks out and to the parking lot, your mother inches closer.

“You look wonderful, babybug,” she says sweetly, taking your hands in hers. “I loved being pregnant with you. I’m so glad you’re experiencing this, even if it’s not how I pictured it when you were a little girl. You’re happy, and that’s all I can hope for.”

Oh, your sweet, well-meaning mother…

“Thanks, Mom.”

//

When Jack gets back to his house, Robby is sitting on his motorcycle in the driveway next to your car, waiting to get going on painting and moving the last of your stuff in.

“Hey, Daddy,” Robby teases when Jack gets out of the truck.

“Who blabbed?” Jack asks, as if most people at The Pitt haven’t already heard.

“Well, in all honesty, Shen did open his fat mouth at handoff last night,” Robby admits as the two men walk toward the front door.

“Makes sense,” Jack mumbles under his breath as he opens the door.

Robby shuts and locks the door.

“So, you’re in bed with a woman who is in the third trimester of a pregnancy that occurred using a sperm donor via artificial insemination,” Robby says, laying it all out.

Jack nods and heads to the nursery, where he has already taped off the edges and laid tarps down. 

“She moved in next door about three years ago. I met her when she knocked on my door with a plate of cookies. We were friendly. If she weren’t my neighbor, and I didn’t work the night shift, I would have asked her out a long time ago,” Jack explains.

He doesn’t want Robby to think this is him seeking to be useful, to quiet all the demons that are always quietly buzzing in his head. He’s setting the groundwork for his friend here, trying to let him know this isn’t as spontaneous as it seems to everyone but you and him.

“About a year ago, she asked me if I knew of any good fertility specialists. I referred her to Gomez, and it was a little scary for her in the beginning. One morning, I came home, and she was sitting on my porch, half-asleep, with a question about implantation bleeding. She showed me all these horror stories she found on the internet. They weren’t doing her any good. After that, I told her to ask me any other questions she had because the thought of her psyching herself up over nothing again made me feel bad since I could do something about it.”

Robby’s been silently listening the whole time, letting Jack put it all out there. The more Jack explains it, the less Robby thinks he’s crazy. He’s still not totally convinced, but then he remembers he hasn’t seen Jack’s demeanor worsen. He’s happy, truly happy and content, and that’s all he wants for his friend.

“You’ve got good judgment, Jack,” Robby says softly. 

Jack furrows his brow. “That’s all you’ve got for me?”

Robby nods, his hands in his pockets. “I’ve never met her, never seen the two of you together, but based solely on the changes that I’ve seen in you over the last couple of months, I’d say you’ve got a good thing, brother. You shouldn’t let it go.”

Jack shakes his head. “I don’t plan to.”

//

Jack and Robby finished painting the nursery, and with thirty minutes left until Jack needed to leave to pick you up, the two attendings head over to your house to grab the remainder of the things you want to keep.

They don’t finish in time, and Jack asks Robby if he’ll finish up while he picks you up.

“I told her we may not finish and asked her if she was cool with you moving stuff outta her house, and she is,” Jack explains, which is enough for Robby. “Plus, you can help us put all the baby gifts inside.”

Robby sighs at the news that he gets to do more moving. “As long as I get to meet the woman who’s got you wrapped around her finger.”

With a small roll of his eyes, Jack’s off, headed for the event center he dropped you off at hours before.

He gets there and parks closer to the entrance so he doesn’t have to carry everything too far and texts you to let you know he’s here.

When five minutes go by, and he doesn’t get a response, he gets out of the truck and wanders into the event hall, his ears suddenly filled with the voices of about a dozen women. Most of the guests have cleared out, but there are still a few blocking his path to you.

It takes a moment to find you, but when he does, he sees you perched on some comfy chair with someone’s baby, probably around nine months old, sitting on your lap.

Jack can only hope to whatever higher power there is that this moment is a glimpse into his future.

You put eyes on Jack when he’s a foot away, and you look up at him with a soft smile.

“This is my cousin’s baby, Hallie,” you tell him, reaching a hand out just to touch him. “She’s almost nine months old.”

Jack smiles and squeezes your hand.

“She’s cute. Did you have fun?”

You shrug but shoot him a soft smile. “Would’ve had more fun if you’d been here, but yeah. Not too many people touched my stomach, so I’ll call it a win.”

Jack sighs contentedly, happy to know you didn’t get too overwhelmed.

“Well, I’ve got your car right outside whenever you’re ready,” he says, reaching a hand out to gently stroke your cheek.

You nod and hand him the baby so you can stand, then take her back and return her to your cousin, Vanessa.

“The biggest things we got are the bouncy chair and the high chair,” you tell him. “So, you put those in first, and everyone else can help with all the other stuff.”

Jack wants to question the fact that you got gifted a high chair and a bouncy chair when the baby won’t use them for a while, but keeps his mouth shut. It’s a nice sentiment, regardless.

He carries out the two heavy boxes while your mom, Vanessa, and another cousin help with the smaller things, while you’re on Hallie duty again.

Your cousins ask Jack probing questions, trying to get a feel for him, and he answers kindly, but all he wants is to get you home to show Robby exactly how okay everything actually is.

When you do get home, Robby’s in the nursery, touching up any white spots on the walls.

“Hi,” you greet, standing in the doorway, both hands perched on top of your bump, still wearing the long pink dress.

Robby looks over at you, Jack behind you now, and smiles. 

“Hi. I’m Robby,” he says, putting the paintbrush down before crossing the room to shake your hand.

“I know,” you say softly, and it brings a small smile to Robby’s eyes.

You give Robby your name, and he looks over your shoulder at Jack, then at you.

“Oh, so it’s not ‘Baby Mama’?”

Jack rolls his eyes, and you furrow your brow.

“I don’t…”

Robby sighs. “I’m sorry. It was a bad joke.”

You get past Robby’s poor excuse for a joke, and once you’ve changed into comfier clothes, you offer to share your dinner of baby shower snacks, which Robby politely declines.

Jack walks Robby out, and once the door is shut, he sighs.

“Baby mama, huh?” Jack murmurs, looking ahead at the driveway rather than his friend.

“Shen said something, I think. It was a joke. Sorry she took it that way; I didn’t mean it,” Robby says.

There have been worse apologies.

“Thanks for your help today,” Jack says as Robby swings a leg over the seat of his bike.

“Yeah, not a problem. Some preemptive karma, I guess.”

Jack manages to crack a smile at Robby’s joke this time.

“She’s sweet. Beautiful, thoughtful. I’m happy for you, Jack.”

Jack pats Robby on the shoulder, then asks, “Still going on the sabbatical?”

Robby nods. “Just me and the open road.”

Jack isn’t totally sure what to say for once. Maybe a solo bike trip is exactly what Robby needs to get right again.

“I’ll see you,” Robby says as he turns the bike on.

“Helmet,” Jack reminds his friend before heading inside.

//

After your shower, Jack finds you in the nursery, paint dried, the crib box dead center with a few baby shower gifts surrounding it.

“Hi,” he says softly.

You look over at Jack in the doorway and smile softly.

“People at work think I’m your baby mama?” you murmur.

Jack can tell you’re not offended, maybe just annoyed that people are getting the story wrong over a joke someone made.

Jack shrugs, and he walks toward you, wrapping his arms around you from behind, setting his palms on the underside of your belly, lifting just slightly to give your back some relief, pulling a soft, appreciative moan from you.

“Want me to send out a PSA?” he murmurs in your ear.

You laugh softly. “I think a soft launch is more appropriate.”

He hums in agreement and presses a soft kiss to the side of your neck, still keeping a steady hold of your bump.

“I like the color you picked,” he whispers, eyes flitting over the expanse of the wall in front of the two of you.

“Yeah, I hope she likes it.”

“She will.”

Another kiss to the side of your neck, chaste and soft, not lustful.

“I love you, Jack,” you whisper, your eyes fixed on the painter’s tape peeling near the ceiling.

Jack once thought he might freeze or get the urge to run away after hearing the first person tell him they love him since his wife passed.

But he doesn’t freeze or run. He gently squeezes your body closer to his and whispers so softly against your neck that you almost don’t hear it, “I love you, too. You and our little girl. All I need is in the palms of my hands.”

dividers by @/saradika-graphics

tags: @person-005 @itsmycorneroftheinternet @myhopefulcollectionqueenfan-blog @karleyyyjaeee @laughsandlivia @michasia24 @babyspiceeeeeeee @maystyles @its--fandom--darling @merlin-288 @cari87 @kidd3ath @saralovesjoelmiller @staygoldsquatchling02

if you would like to be added to/removed from the Jack Abbot taglist/the taglist for this specific pairing/series, pls lmk with a comment or a message! ty for reading! <3

[hehehehahahohohuhu]

so domestic so soft so right :(

[dreamedaboutitinthedark]

sooooo right

tysm for reading and reblogging 💞💞💞💞

[dreamedaboutitinthedark]

Doctor Feel Better

Summary: The day of your glucose test appointment, you mention to Jack that your hips hurt more than usual. He promises he can make you feel better if you stop by his place when you get off work.

(sequel to "Doctor Google", but all you need to know is reader is pregnant via artificial insemination)

Pairing: Jack Abbot x Pregnant!Reader

Content warnings: MDNI, no description of reader beyond being pregnant, pregnancy, glucose test, pregnancy related pain, angst, sex in a shower chair, use of a vibrator, nipple play, praise kink, Jack "Talks You Through It" Abbot

Word count: 5,814

Read on ao3 here | Series Masterlist

Author's note: first of all: THE PICTURE IS NOT INDICATIVE OF WHAT THE READER LOOKS LIKE. THERE ARE NO GOOD PICTURES ON PINTEREST LATELY!!! LITERALLY NOTHING IS MATCHING THE VISION IN MY HEAD, SO THIS IS THE BEST I GOT!!! READER IS NOT DESCRIBED BEYOND BEING PREGNANT!!!!! anyway thank you @laughsandlivia for commenting an idea for a sequel!!! this wouldn't have happened without you. literally. Jack Abbot may be plaguing my mind, but I don't have a lot of ideas period lately. so if anyone wants more from these two, you're gonna have to give me an idea b/c I am lowk kinda uninspired. uh, anyway, pls god let me have 20 babies for this man. that's it. pls enjoy me pushing my DILF!Abbot agenda. <3

“Do you know how bad it tastes?” you ask Jack, leaning against the kitchen counter while he cooks you breakfast for dinner, which is also his actual breakfast.

“Well, I mean, I’ve never drank it,” he replies, his eyes fixed on the pancake in the pan.

“So don’t tell me to calm down!” you mumble through gritted teeth. “Seriously! Everything I read online says it’s fucking disgusting, and everyone in that freaking parenting class said they gagged!”

Now that you’re 27 weeks pregnant, your OB-GYN has scheduled you for a glucose test. Apparently, you go in, down a nasty, sugary drink, wait an hour, then do a blood test to check for gestational diabetes. Everyone’s warned you the drink is absolute shit, and Jack’s been trying to get your mind off of it for the last ten minutes.

“Then chug it,” he says, handing you your plate of pancakes. “It’ll be over faster that way. Also, I said to try to calm down, I didn’t order you to.”

You roll your eyes.

“What happens when I gag mid-chug?” you snap back.

Jack lets out a soft sigh of frustration and turns off the stove while he plates his own breakfast.

“I don’t know, sweetie. Do you want me to go with you?”

You only slept with Jack for the first time two weeks ago, but he and you have gotten so close over the course of your pregnancy that you were debating asking him to be present at the birth even before you had sex with him. What’s some company at the glucose test appointment?

“You’d do that?” you ask sheepishly.

Jack nods and ushers you to the table, pulling out a chair for you before sitting beside you.

“Yeah, I mean, you said it’s Thursday at 8:00. You can just meet me at the E.D., and we’ll go up. Usually don’t get out of there until 7:30 anyway, so this works out,” he says, all nonchalant, like he’s not giving you everything you’ve ever wanted.

“You’re gonna put ideas in my hand, Jack,” you murmur, half joking, keeping your eyes fixed on your food.

“What, the idea that I care about you and that baby?” he asks. “Thought it was already obvious.”

He smiles at you, and you almost want to blurt out that you’re pretty sure that by the time your baby comes, you’ll be hopelessly in love with him.

“I like to get affirmed,” you murmur in response.

“Oh, yeah? Words of affirmation is your love language?”

You nod, smiling.

Jack leans back in his chair, matching your soft smile. “I’ll make a note of that.”

//

“Hey, baby mama!”

You look up from your phone and into John Shen’s eyes.

“Hi?” you murmur, a little confused.

It’s currently 7:28 AM, and you just sat down in one of the free chairs to wait for Jack to buzz you into the E.D.

“I’m Shen. I work with Abbot,” the man says. “He mentioned you once or twice.”

“Oh,” you say, reaching out a hand to shake Shen’s. “That’s sweet of him.”

“Plus, I noticed him sneak you in here a few weeks ago.”

For some reason, you want to laugh, but instead stifle it, pursing your lips together.

“I can buzz you in, let you wait in the break room. It’s less crowded,” he offers.

“Yeah, that’d actually be really nice,” you say, smiling genuinely when Shen holds a hand out to help you up.

Shen leads you through the entrance and into the E.D., where Jack, who was explaining a patient’s situation to Robby, takes notice. 

Robby’s in the middle of a sentence when Jack spaces out, watching you follow Shen toward the break room.

“Anyway, I’ll put McKay on him,” Robby finishes. 

Jack doesn’t respond.

“Jack?”

“Hm?”

“You okay?”

“Yeah. McKay. That’s good. Uh, good luck today,” Jack murmurs as he heads toward the break room, where Shen is now walking away, seemingly ready to go home.

“The hell did you do?” Jack demands, speaking softly and trying not to sound accusatory.

Shen raises his eyebrows and holds in a laugh.

“Found your baby mama out there while I was leaving and offered her a quieter place to wait for you,” he replies, trying not to take too much pleasure in Jack being in whatever fucking state this is.

“...Oh. Okay, that’s… I’ll see you tonight.”

He walks past Shen and opens the door to the break room, finding you at the table, your chin resting on your hand.

“Hey, sleepy,” Jack greets, shutting the door behind him.

“Hi,” you murmur, blinking to keep your eyes open. “Shen’s nice.”

Jack lets out a soft scoff. “Yeah, he’s alright. Um, you ready?”

You nod and push yourself out of the chair. God, did the bump get bigger overnight? He swears it did.

“Is she moving much this morning?” he asks softly as he leads you toward the elevator as quickly as possible in hopes of avoiding any stupid questions from nosy co-workers this early in the morning/this late at night.

“Just a little. Usually don’t wake up at 6:00 AM for doctor’s appointments,” you say with a yawn as the two of you step into the elevator.

He just nods in response and leans against the wall next to you, his eyes fixed on your stomach.

“Wanna tell her hi?” you ask softly.

Over the last two weeks, Jack’s gotten a little more comfortable touching the bump. Touching you—your arm, your back, your side, your leg, your tits, your ass—that’s easy for him. But touching the bump, something so full of life, yet not quite fully formed, and something you made completely on your own, has always felt almost intrusive. 

A father wasn’t part of the equation when your baby took root in your womb, and he isn’t quite sure yet what his role is here beyond fucking you at your whim and taking care of as many other needs as possible.

He’ll sometimes mindlessly caress the side of your bump with the back of his hand while the two of you sit in bed, yet still, he worries that he’s overstepping. There are moments when he lies awake, anxiety about stepping into the life of a woman who deliberately chose to be a single mother seeping into his heart. 

Just placing his hand on your belly reminds him of everything he hasn’t had the wherewithal to process yet, like the guilt for wanting more than he thinks he’s worthy of, the fear that you’ll decide you’re better off on your own, and the hope that maybe, just maybe, the title of your partner, the title of your daughter’s father could truly be his. 

But you’ve offered, you’ve invited him, and you look like you need some reassurance before heading into this nerve-racking appointment, so he feels okay bringing his palm to the side of your bump and rubbing his thumb back and forth until the elevator dings and the doors open to the OB-GYN floor.

He sits next to you in the waiting room, looking at all the art on the wall that’s supposed to resemble female anatomy, but tastefully. He’s actually pretty sure you have one of these prints in your downstairs bathroom.

There are other pregnant women in the waiting room, all at various stages. There are also a few women Jack guesses are here for the GYN side of things rather than OB.

He’d done a rotation in obstetrics in medical school. He knows how the appointments work from a medical standpoint, but he never thought, especially after losing his wife, that he’d be the guy sitting in the uncomfortable plastic chair, watching a woman’s gravid belly rise and fall with each breath she takes, taking note of every kick or poke visible from the child within.

But it’s you, and you’re so strong, and you’re going to be the best mom, and he can get past his shock if it means he’ll help you through one of the arguably scarier appointments necessary during a pregnancy.

The nurse calls your name, and when you and Jack step into the hall, she hands you a urine sample cup.

“Bathroom’s on the left, and then we’ll be in exam room four, second to last door on the right,” she tells you, smiling.

You thank the nurse, who Jack swears he recognizes, then he gets led toward your exam room, where he’s told to wait for you.

The nurse doesn’t leave him alone. She fills in the rest of your paperwork while he tries to get comfortable on the plastic chair beside the exam table.

“Funny question,” Jack says. “Did you ever work nights in the emergency department?”

The nurse doesn’t look up, but she nods.

“Dr. Abbot, right?”

Hearing her voice less cheerful helps Jack place her.

“Anne Roberts.”

She nods again. “Happy to see things started looking up for you, Abbot.”

He furrows his brow in confusion, then it dawns on him. Anne only started working in the E.D. around the time he came back to work after his wife died. He could really only focus on patients for about three months. It’s like everything else faded around him, and whatever patient he saw.

It feels good for someone to think Jack’s the father of your baby. He has the instinct to correct Anne, but instead doesn’t. That’s your decision. He’d put his name on the birth certificate in a heartbeat.

“Thanks. You, too. I bet OB-GYN’s a hell of a lot more cheerful than what goes on downstairs.”

Anne shrugs and clicks her pen closed. “It usually is. I’ll be back in a few minutes to get her the Glucola.”

Then she’s gone, but you’re back from the bathroom before Jack has a chance to stew on any of what Anne said.

“God, aiming in those cups just gets harder every time,” you joke as you get situated on the exam table.

Jack smiles softly at the comment and reaches out a hand, resting it on your knee.

“Feel okay today?” he asks.

You nod. “For the most part. Besides my hips hurting a little more today, but that isn’t a symptom of gestational diabetes.”

He frowns upon hearing you’re in any kind of pain, his hand on your knee, squeezing gently.

“Can I do anything?” he asks softly, his voice just a little husky. 

You fight back a smirk, and he continues.

“Come to my place when you get off work today,” he says, not quite an order, but not really leaving you much room to reject his offer either.

You nod, and then Anne comes back with the Glucola in hand, along with blood-drawing supplies.

“Alright, so before you drink this, I’ll draw your blood to get your baseline,” Anne begins explaining as she sets everything up.

You hold your arm out in Anne’s direction, but keep your gaze fixed on Jack.

“I’m lucky I finally have a distraction for this part,” you murmur softly, covering his hand on your knee.

“Just a little pinch,” Jack says softly, his voice reassuring. “Then it’s over.”

Anne makes quick work of drawing your blood and puts everything away, then hands you the drink.

“It’s best to chug it and get it over with,” she advises.

You take the drink from her, then give Jack a skeptical look, but he just nods and squeezes your knee again in encouragement.

You unscrew the lid and bring the bottle to your lips, chugging it down in its entirety.

When you’re done, you gag softly and hand the empty bottle to Anne, who’s checking her watch for the time.

“Alright, 8:22. I’ll be back at 9:22 to take your blood again, then you’re good to go.”

You thank Anne, and she’s gone, leaving you alone in the room with Jack.

“I definitely hyped it up in my head, but it was still pretty fucking gross,” you tell him, your hands going to gently apply pressure to your aching hips.

Jack narrows his gaze as you massage the ache in your hips.

“How bad do your hips hurt, baby?” he asks softly, all the concern in the world evident in his voice.

You shrug. “Like a six. I’m just being a baby because you’re here to baby me.”

He laughs softly, a huff through his nose. “Six is still higher than I’d like.”

“Hm. What do you suggest?”

“You’ll see when you come over tonight,” is all Jack says.

You smile at that, and there are a few moments of silence before you softly ask, “What if I fail the test?”

Jack sighs and takes both your hands.

“Then you do the three-hour test,” he says softly, his eyes fixed on yours, hopefully coming across as encouraging. “Failing the one-hour test doesn’t mean you have gestational diabetes, baby.”

“I know, but what if I do have it?”

He shrugs. “Then your OB will put you on a treatment plan, and you’ve got me one house away if you ever need anything.”

You suck your cheeks in and nod, then let go and sigh. The idea of Jack being only one house away is comforting, yet also not. One house away is farther than you’d like him to be.

“We never really picked that conversation back up, y’know, about where we’re going,” you say softly, trying to keep the nervousness from hitting your tone.

When you made the joke about Jack’s nude yoga, that kick-started round two, and it seems the conversation has been put on the back burner for the last two weeks. 

Fine, if you weren’t pregnant with a sperm donor’s baby, but you are. You don’t have time to tiptoe around.

Jack keeps his gaze on you, and he nods his head, just once.

“Uh, I just… I’m having this baby in thirteen weeks, and I’m excited to do it. It wouldn’t be happening if I weren’t. I just… If I’m going to be doing it alone, I need to be fully alone. I can’t be in bed with you, then go be a mom by myself.”

He nods along as you speak and squeezes your hands again.

“If you’ll let me, I’ll be there. Whatever you need or whatever she needs. I’ve been…thinking about switching to days,” he says, speaking low. “You’re gonna be in the third trimester next week, and you’ll need someone.”

Hearing him bluntly say it, that you’ll need him, doesn’t make you insecure in your abilities because that isn’t how he meant it. It’s factual; you’ll need help in some form. You were either going to call your mom or your best friend, but for some reason, Jack helping you makes more sense to you in your head. There’s just an unexplainable need for him inside of you.

You sit there, on the edge of the exam table, your eyes fixed on your joined hands, and fight back tears.

“Be there how?” you ask, your voice warbly.

You know exactly what you want him to be there for, but you feel the need to hear him say it, say he wants it, that he’ll be there with a smile on his face.

Jack stands from the chair he’d been sitting in and looks at you, keeping his hands in yours. “I’ll be there, in bed, with you, so you can easily wake me up at 2:00 in the morning and ask me to make you pancakes. I’ll be there to drop you off and pick you up from your baby shower. I’ll be there to put the furniture together for the nursery. I’ll be there when you go into labor, and assuming you’re comfortable, I’ll be there when you bring this perfect baby girl into the world. Plus, I’ll change all of her diapers.”

The last part makes you laugh. You pull your hands away and wipe your face.

“I want you there for all of it,” you murmur softly, nodding to emphasize how much you mean this. “I wanna bother you about midnight cravings and watch you argue with an instruction manual while you put her crib together. And I want you to hold my hand when I have her.”

Jack nods and leans forward to peck your lips, bringing his gentle hands to cradle your face. “Then I’ll be there. That’s where I wanna be.”

You sniff and peck his lips again, then tell him softly, “I’m gonna tell you I love you before she’s here.”

Jack’s eyebrows raise, but you peck his lips again, which he takes as you not wanting a reply. He pulls back and kisses your temple, then sits behind you on the exam table, one leg bent and pulled in, the other dangling off the edge. He puts his hands on your hips and gently massages, watching over your shoulder as you online shop for more baby clothes until Anne comes in to take your blood again.

Once that’s done, the two of you are on your way, heading out the main exit rather than the emergency department exit in the interest of avoiding nosy co-workers once again.

//

When you get home, there’s a small gift box by your front door. It’s on top of the small table you leave out for late-night DoorDash or Grubhub delivery people.

You untie the Christmas ribbon and find a key inside the box, as well as a note.

“Spare key for you. Also, sorry about the Christmas ribbon. It’s all I had,” is written in Jack’s handwriting.

You drop your things inside and change into comfier clothes, then throw a few things into a bag, and just as you’re about to leave, you double back for the pregnancy pillow Jack bought you last week.

The walk across the lawn is quick. Jack watches the whole thing through the window, but he gave you the key today, so he wants you to use it.

When he hears it twist in the lock and the door open after it, he pretends he didn’t see you coming.

“Planning a sleepover?” he asks, smiling as he takes the pillow and your bag from you.

“Don’t tell me you were going to make me walk back home after making the ache in my hips go away,” you quip, following him to his bedroom, where he puts your things down.

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he says, walking over to you, putting his hands on your hips.

“Before you fix me up, can I raid your fridge?” you whisper just when he leans into your neck.

He laughs softly, then leans back and nods.

“Can I make you anything?”

You shrug. “We’ll see.”

Jack ends up making you a grilled cheese with a side of scrambled eggs, not too weird.

You eat at his kitchen table, and he joins you with his own plate of eggs and toast. He never thought he’d see the day, but he’s looking forward to working the day shift, eating steak or spaghetti with you around this time rather than breakfast, unless of course, that’s what the baby wants.

When you’re done eating, Jack takes both your dishes and puts them in the dishwasher, then comes up behind you and leans down, his hands caressing your sides, finally squeezing your aching hips.

You moan softly as his fingers press into the meat of your hips, just scratching the surface of alleviating your ache.

He leans forward and kisses the juncture of your neck and shoulder, which pulls another soft sound of pleasure from you.

“You look so beautiful, y’know that?” he whispers against your skin, working his fingers into your hips. “Pregnancy looks good on you.”

Your breath hitches, and you lean your head back, exposing your throat to Jack, who takes full advantage, kissing you there, skating the line between simply kissing and sucking on your skin and leaving a mark your boss would glare at you over. 

“Yeah?” you whisper softly, your eyes shutting as you let Jack fully invade your space. 

He nods against you, his hands squeezing your hips again before going inward, gently cupping your bump. 

“Mhm. And y’know what, baby?” he husks right in your ear. “I wanna show you how good I think you look before I go to work.”

Your eyes slowly open, and you watch Jack’s hands move from your belly to your breasts, just gently holding them. You glance at the time on his watch. It’s 5:42. You’ve got a little less than an hour before Jack leaves for work, plenty of time for him to fuck the ache out of your hips.

“How’re you gonna do that?” you ask, your voice soft and breathy.

Jack hums thoughtfully and kisses your cheek.

“You want a shower?” he coos in your ear, his fingernails gently scraping over your nipples through your thin shirt, pulling soft moans from your throat.

Before losing his leg, Jack loved fucking in the shower, holding his girlfriend against a wall, water cascading over their bodies. After losing his leg, that part of his sex life was gone. Even with the shower chair, he didn’t feel it was feasible. 

He did end up doing it with his wife a few times, but she was never the biggest fan of shower sex to begin with. Fine, Jack thought. There are worse things that came with the amputation.

But last week, you were brushing your teeth in Jack’s bathroom after eating a few too many pickles while he brushed his teeth after waking up. You mumbled around your toothbrush, “Can we try fucking in the shower chair sometime?” as you nodded to the aforementioned chair.

You were so nonchalant, and the fact that you even brought it up to begin with was enough to make Jack’s head spin.

He nodded his head, and the subject was dropped until today.

Now, your eyes widen, and a grin spreads across your face as you turn your head to look at him. “Yeah?”

Jack nods and kisses your jaw before straightening up and pulling your chair back to help you up.

You follow him to the bathroom, but he doesn’t stay. He squeezes your hips again and mumbles something about needing to get something first.

In the meantime, you pull your shirt and sweats off, now standing bare in Jack’s bathroom as you open the shower door and turn the water on.

You hear the half-open door creak all the way open and turn around to find Jack in just his pajama pants with a hot pink vibrator in his hand.

Behind a hand covering your mouth, you gasp and ask, “What the fuck, Jack?”

Even behind your hand, Jack knows you’re smiling in excitement, so he shuts the door to keep the steam in, hoping the warmth and the water help your hips, and steps over to you.

“Orgasms release endorphins. Y’know what those are?” he asks, holding the vibrator up between your chests. He doesn’t wait for an answer before continuing. “Endorphins are natural pain relievers, and that’s the whole point right now: making the ache in your hips go away.”

You drop your hand and look from the vibrator to Jack and smile. 

“Mhm. What, are you not confident in your ability to make me come without a vibrator? Think all of a sudden your magic touch isn’t intact?” you purr.

Jack smiles and turns the vibrator on, gently pressing it against the top of your thigh, holding eye contact the entire time.

“Just wanna enhance your experience, take advantage of the increase in your libido,” he says, moving the vibrator inward, but not where you want it.

You bite your bottom lip between your teeth, stifling a moan, and nod.

He takes your hand and puts the vibrator in it.

“You get in the shower and wait while I finish undressing,” he orders, his voice probably the lowest you’ve ever heard it.

You do as he says, stepping under the warm spray of water. As you lean against the wall, you move the vibrator to your outer labia, teasing yourself as you watch Jack remove his pants and prosthesis.

When he’s seated in the shower chair and the shower door is shut, he gently pulls the vibrator away from you. He shuts it off and places it on the shelf next to his shampoo.

Jack holds eye contact with you, looking up at you through his lashes, then pats his thigh, silently telling you to straddle him.

You place your hands on his shoulders for balance, then sink onto his lap, his cock half hard, poking your pussy.

“You look perfect,” he rasps, his hands immediately going to grope your ass. “Absolutely fucking perfect. Do you feel perfect?”

You giggle softly and look up at the ceiling, then back at Jack.

“Uh, perfect’s a strong word, Jack,” you chuckle softly. “I mean, I feel as good about my appearance as a woman who’s 27 weeks pregnant can.”

Jack narrows his gaze and caresses your body, from your ass to the sides of your breasts.

“You look fucking amazing. I mean it. I never thought I’d…be so turned on by a pregnant woman, let alone one not even carrying my kid,” he whispers.

You whimper softly and squirm on his lap. You don’t even mean to, but hearing him say the baby isn’t his, even though it’s true, makes you so fucking sad. Why isn’t the baby his? Why didn’t you knock on his door and say, “Hey, you’ve got great genetics, clearly, so will you give me a baby?” Why is your body swollen and full and changing because of sperm donor 18645 and Pittsburgh fertility specialist Dr. Josephine Gomez and not because your sexy neighbor, Army veteran and emergency medicine physician Jack Abbot filled you up to the fucking brim?

Jack notices your reaction, and it wasn’t what he was expecting.

“What? What’s wrong, baby? I say something wrong?” he whispers, his hands moving from your breasts to cradle your face with one hand and hold your hand with his other.

You shrug. “Just hearing that is…”

Jack’s brow furrows, then he asks, “Saying the baby’s not mine?”

There’s a moment where you hold your breath in, lips pursed, eyes on Jack’s. Then you slowly, almost imperceptibly, nod your head.

“Sweetheart…”

“It’s okay,” you whisper, shaking your head. “It’s true. I just…”

“I don’t wanna upset you,” Jack says, his thumb moving back and forth on your cheek.

“I shouldn’t be upset by that,” you murmur.

He shrugs. “You know I’ll do whatever you need, be whatever you need.”

You lean forward and kiss him softly, bringing a hand to the back of his hair.

Jack moans softly into the kiss, the hand on your cheek moving to your scalp, his fingernails gently scratching.

“I’m gonna take care of you girls, y’know that? Gonna be there for you and her like I’m the one who put her in you in the first place,” he whispers against your lips. “You like the sound of that?”

You nod and moan against his lips, his tongue soft against your lips.

“Is that my baby in your belly?” he breathes.

You moan again and tug on the back of his hair.

Jack just smirks and pulls back, then dives back in to kiss under your jaw. “Yeah? You got my baby inside of you? That what you wanna say?”

You lean your chin on the top of Jack’s head, your open-mouthed moans echoing within the walls of the shower.

“Use your words, honey,” he croons as he pulls back to look you in the eye. 

“Oh, fuck… She’s, she’s yours, Jack,” you mumble breathily.

This whole time, his cock’s been fully erect, brushing against your swollen folds with every movement either of you makes, and that, paired with your admission that you want Jack to be your daughter’s father, is almost too much.

“You know who else is mine?” he rasps softly. 

You just pant and look down at him, waiting eagerly for his answer.

“You. You’re mine. Every inch of you. Every–” his hands move to your belly again, roaming the gravid shape of it “–fucking inch, baby.”

With a soft moan from you, Jack reaches for the pink vibrator and clicks it on to its second lowest setting, then brings it to your inner thigh again, pulling a whine out of your throat.

“And I take care of what’s mine,” he murmurs before finally putting the vibrator on your clit.

He keeps the vibrator pressed, stationary, against your clit for a few more moments before he starts to move it in circles.

“Mm, Jack, I… Hey, come to think of it,” you say, your voice shaky as you fight to speak through the pleasure. “You buy this vibrator specifically for me?” you ask, smiling, feeling almost cocky. 

He chuckles softly and presses the toy a little harder against your clit.

“You left your box of toys out last time I was over,” he tells you. “I happened to notice you didn’t have a pink one.”

You let out a breathy laugh and rock your hips against his hard-on. “Variety is the spice of life, huh?”

Jack smiles and leans forward to kiss you again, simultaneously turning the vibrator’s setting up by one level.

“Jesus,” you shriek, your fingernails digging into his arms. “Fuck, I-I want you inside of me.”

“Then put me in,” he says, pulling the vibrator away to give you room, then immediately grazing your nipple with the toy while you line him up with your entrance.

“Shit, you’re fucking… Fuck, Jack,” you whine as you sink down on his cock.

“There you go,” he soothes, keeping the vibrator on your nipple with one hand and caressing his hand up and down your side with the other. “Just get used to the feeling first.”

With a few more moans and pants, you finally regain at least a little bit of your composure and manage to start slowly coming up, Jack now about halfway out of you, before sinking down again.

“Oh, God, honey,” he moans softly, the vibrator pushing into your areola in reaction to your cunt just moving up and down.

You move up and down on Jack for a few more minutes, and he keeps rambling on about “how beautiful you look, taking my cock”, “how fucking sexy you look, all full with a baby”, and “how pretty you look when you’re about to come.”

“Jack, I–”

“Oh, I know, honey,” he croons. “Go ahead, baby. Soak me. Show me how good I’m making you feel.”

You squeeze Jack’s arms, your fingernails digging into his skin so hard, he lets out a quiet hiss through his teeth. You pussy milks his cock so hard, he’s coming before he even realizes it.

Your moans ring in Jack’s ears as he fills you up, the vibrator dropping down to the floor while you work him and yourself through the aftershocks of your orgasms.

“So handsome,” you mumble, leaning forward to kiss his cheek. “So good to me.”

Jack brings his hands to your hips and gently rubs his thumb into them.

“Feel better?” he rasps.

You chuckle softly and kiss his forehead before resting yours against it.

“Mhm. Ache’s all gone.”

Jack goes about cleaning you while you’re on his lap, still sheathed inside of you. When the time comes to get out, you dry off over by the sink while Jack slides over to sit on the closed toilet to dry off. 

Once he’s fully dry, he puts the prosthesis back on and stands behind you, his hands going to the underside of your belly, not heavy enough to straight up pick up like you’d seen some couples do on social media, but large enough for his hands to disappear as he peeks over your shoulder.

“What’re you gonna do when I leave?” he asks, his eye on your phone that just lit up with a notification from your phone, telling him he has seven minutes before he needs to get going.

“Mm, probably sleep. Waking up early for that appointment messed with me today,” you reply, rubbing lotion into your skin.

“Gonna dream about me?”

You laugh softly. “After that, yeah, probably.”

Jack heads out of the bathroom to change into his scrubs while you dig around his dresser for an old t-shirt to wear to bed, which almost has him groaning out loud when he sees you pull it over your head.

You stand behind him as he ties the drawstring of his scrubs—which do nothing to allay how badly you wish you could go for a round two—and kiss the back of his neck, wrapping your arms around his waist.

Jack swears his knees might give out when he feels your arms around him, not to mention the swell of your belly fitting into the natural arch of his back so well.

He clears his throat and turns around, putting his hands on your waist.

“I’ll see you in the morning,” he murmurs before leaning forward and kissing you gently.

You moan softly into the kiss, expecting him to leave the room after he pulls away, but he doesn’t.

He crouches down and gently caresses your belly, a tenderness in his eyes you haven’t seen him look at your bump with before.

“Be good to your mama, babygirl,” he whispers before kissing it, the worn fabric of his t-shirt soft against his lips, but not the texture he wants to feel, so he pulls the fabric up and kisses your bare belly, effectively almost pulling the air from your lungs

Jack stands at full height again and pecks your lips.

“I’m gonna tell you I love you way before she’s born,” he whispers when he pulls back.

Your eyebrows raise, but he quickly brings a finger to your lips.

“I gotta go,” he says, fighting back a smirk.

“Fuck you,” you mumble against his finger, but Jack knows there’s no real bite to it.

“I’ll see you in the morning.”

Then he’s off.

When you hear the front door close, you get into Jack’s bed and turn off the light. Once you’re comfortable against your pregnancy pillow, you bring your hand to your belly, gently stroking, occasionally getting a kick or a poke in response.

“Your dad is an idiot,” you mumble. “But he’s your best shot at not having daddy issues when you grow up, so what’re you gonna do?”

//

Two days later, you get the call from your doctor. You passed your glucose test, and Jack fucks you, praising you the whole time for being so brave at the doctor’s office, for being so patient while you waited on results, and for doing such a good job carrying his baby.

dividers by @/saradika-graphics

tags: @person-005 @itsmycorneroftheinternet @myhopefulcollectionqueenfan-blog @karleyyyjaeee @michasia24 @babyspiceeeeeeee @maystyles @its--fandom--darling

p.s. if you would like to be added to/removed from my Jack Abbot taglist or the taglist for future installments featuring this specific couple, just let me know with a comment or a message!

[hehehehahahohohuhu]

i think about "the hell did you do?" scene a lot it's so buzzyyyyyyyyyyy

also i forgot they said i love you two chapters in!!! no wonder jack keeps saying he got lucky twice :( lowk got emotional right after the smut bc i remembered scenes of jack talking to helene ...

[dreamedaboutitinthedark]

I feel honored that the word “buzzy” is being used for that scene lol I went back to reread it after seeing this reblog and lowk👀👀 he’s down BADDDDD

them basically threatening to say the L word is so funny and trulyyyy Jack is a lucky guy. rereading with Helene in mind is in fact lowkey heartbreaking but we’re all really brave

tysm for reading and reblogging and your sweet words 💞💞💞

[dreamedaboutitinthedark]

Doctor Google

Summary: After deciding to become a single mother through artificial insemination, you often find yourself asking your next door neighbor and emergency medicine doctor, Jack Abbot, for help. He doesn't mind because it beats you getting the wrong answers from Dr. Google. It also doesn't hurt that it allows for Jack to get to know his neighbor better.

Pairing: Jack Abbot x Pregnant!Reader

Content warnings: MDNI, pregnancy, pregnancy symptoms, probably definitely medical inaccuracies, mention of amputation/prosthesis (if I handled this in a weird way, PLS TELL ME), oral sex (F receiving), cowgirl position, Jack "Talks You Through It" Abbot, dirty talk, Jack's nude yoga mentioned

Word count: 4,372

Read on ao3 here | Series Masterlist

Author's note: hi this is my first work for "The Pitt"!!! yayyy everyone clap with me!!! feeling nervous and excited. started this after last week's episode and have worked on it only while sleep deprived since lol. okay I hope you enjoy and thank you for reading!!! <3

The text comes in at 1:00 AM. It’s slow in the pitt, and he was thinking about you anyway.

How can I be sure I’m feeling kicks and not the kid falling apart inside of me?

Not his wife, not his girlfriend, not even his baby mama, even though Shen likes to call it that.

You’re his neighbor, 23 weeks pregnant with a baby conceived through artificial insemination, the biological father being sperm donor 18645.

You and Jack always said hello when you saw each other in your driveways. He jumped your car for you once. He always thought you were pretty and had a good sense of humor. It was probably the day you moved in and introduced yourself with a plate of cookies for him that he decided he liked you. 

It wasn’t an all-consuming crush or anything; just recognition that you’re objectively attractive, with other great qualities as well. 

If he had been able to find the time, he would have asked you out on a date before all this happened. You’d been friendly neighbors for a little over two years when you asked him if he knew any good fertility specialists while the two of you took out your trash.

“For you?” he had asked, then immediately cringed because it sounded invasive.

“Uh, yeah. I… I’m going to be 34 this year. Last chance to do it before they classify me as ‘geriatric’,” you joked. “I’m sick of the apps and the stupid pottery classes people take to try to meet people. I want a baby, and I don’t need a boyfriend or a husband to have one, so I’m trying to do that.”

“Oh, well…good for you. Uh, yeah, I know a few. I’ll text you a list?”

You said that was fine, thanked him, then walked back into your house.

Fertility specialist, Jack thought. He’d jizz in a cup for free and steal the equipment from the hospital just to put his baby in you.

Then he thought maybe that was a road he didn’t want to go down. It’d be stupid to imagine himself as the guy who could walk around with the knowledge that he filled you up with his baby, to imagine you begging for Jack to relieve the wave of hormones he knows the second trimester usually brings pregnant women rather than begging him to tell you if every little thing you’re experiencing is normal, to imagine what the baby might look like when the doctor places the newborn on your chest. 

So he went inside and went through his contacts of fertility doctors he knew or knew of in the area and compiled a list that he sent out to you shortly. He even added a few OB-GYNs he liked to the bottom of the list as a show of good faith.

Now you’re pregnant, every question you have goes directly to him, and Jack wouldn’t have it any other way. Somehow, this pregnancy has brought him closer to you, allowing him to get to know you in a way most neighbors don’t. He’s doing nearly everything a father-to-be might do and almost acts as a 24/7 extension of your OB-GYN. If Jack didn’t know any better, he’d be begging you to tell him it’s all a cosmic joke and the baby in your belly is really his.

They’re kicks, he wrote back.

How do you know for sure?

Because we’d be having an entirely different conversation if they weren’t. You’d know.

The typing bubble pops up, then goes away, then pops up, then goes away again.

Eventually, Jack smiles to himself and types, If you’re that concerned, come see me.

You write back that your ETA is 1:18 AM, give or take, and he likes the message.

At 1:25, Lena tells him he has a visitor in chairs.

You’re wearing gray sweatpants and a Steelers sweatshirt, which is doing too good a job of hiding your bump, in Jack’s opinion.

“This is the emptiest I’ve ever seen this waiting room,” you remark as Jack sits in the chair next to you.

Besides you, there are just a few people who appear to be patients’ rides, spread out through the room.

“Yeah. Pretty good night for you and the little one to need me,” he says, a teasing lilt to his voice.

You pick up his hand and bring it to your stomach, shoving it underneath your sweatshirt.

Your skin is warm against his cold palm. One who is more inclined to the arts than he is might say that’s some nice symbolism, but he’s a man of science, so he doesn’t think about it too hard.

Jack moves his hand around the globe of your swollen belly, feeling for movement. When the kid finally moves, he can barely feel it, but one thing is for certain.

“Yeah, the kid’s intact, sweetheart. Not falling apart,” he murmurs huskily.

“That’s your official diagnosis?” you ask, practically cooing with how softly you’re speaking to him.

Jack looks from your belly to you and nods. 

“Yeah, I’m diagnosing you and the kid as okay. A little worrying is normal, though. Means you’re already a hell of a mother,” he says, his gaze softening the longer he looks at you.

You sigh and lean into the chair, looking at Jack almost too fondly for being just friends.

He leans forward until his lips are barely touching your ear.

“I can sneak you back there and use the portable ultrasound,” he murmurs in your ear.

When he leans back, you nod, and then he’s standing, offering you a hand to help you out of your chair.

Jack takes you all the way to the back of the E.D.

Shen, Ellis, and the other residents and nurses are too wrapped up in charting and the few cases they have to notice what’s going on.

Jack parks you in one of the exam rooms, then heads to a supply closet for a portable ultrasound machine, thankfully, once again, not drawing any attention to himself.

He comes back to find you with your sweatshirt rolled up, inadvertently revealing the fact that you’re not wearing a bra, baring just the tiniest sliver of underboob to his eyes.

“Intuitive,” he mumbles as he snaps gloves over his hands.

“I’m trying to become your favorite patient you ever had,” you reply, reaching your arms behind your head.

Jack smiles and turns on the machine.

“My favorite patient was a frat guy who got a fork stuck in between his fingers when I was an R3. Guy kept cracking jokes the whole time. He’s unbeatable,” he says, feigning sympathy for you with a frown that’s almost comical. “Plus, this is off the record, so you’re not officially my patient.”

You roll your eyes and keep your eyes fixed on the gel he squirts on your abdomen. 

“I can be funny,” you mumble, your tone almost petulant.

“Yeah, I know,” he says, matter-of-factly, reaching for the probe. “It was situational.”

The probe rubs side to side, then it presses in just a bit, and the room fills with the whooshing sound of your baby’s heartbeat.

“God, it never gets old,” you sigh.

Jack smiles and holds the probe steady, just watching the baby move around inside you.

“Her lungs start working next week,” he says, eyes fixed on the grainy image of your baby.

Your eyes light up at that, and Jack almost melts at the sight when he meets your gaze.

“I read somewhere that babies are viable at 24 weeks,” you say, and Jack doesn’t miss the slight note of anxiety in your tone.

He nods and keeps his eyes on yours. “Yeah, that’s true. You don’t have to worry about that, though. Your daughter looks healthy, and my psychic didn’t say anything about my pregnant friend getting in any tragic accidents.”

You chuckle at that, then sigh.

“I know I did this to myself, literally, but I just… Fuck, Jack, it’s hard doing it alone,” you whisper, bringing a hand up to cover your eyes. “I’m sorry I’m abusing the fact that my neighbor is a hot-shot emergency medicine doctor,” you murmur, lowering your hand.

Jack shrugs and shakes his head. “Sweetheart, I wouldn’t have it any other way. I’d rather you ask me every little question that pops into your head than ask Dr. Google. As long as the kid calls me Uncle Jack in the end, we’ll call it even.”

It’s nowhere near even, but you don’t feel like arguing it, so you nod and take another look at your daughter’s developing form on the grainy screen.

“Thanks for doing this. I know you could get in trouble.”

Jack shrugs again, like it’s nothing.

“I’m the night shift’s supervising attending. No one here is gonna do shit about this, even if they did find out,” he says softly, reassuring you.

You smile, and Jack asks if you’re done hanging out with the baby. When you nod, he pushes the machine away and hands you a tissue to wipe your bump, then watches you slide it over the gel on your skin.

He smiles and offers both of his hands to help you sit up and get off the cot, which you gladly take.

Then he takes off his gloves and tosses them in the trash. “Wait here. I gotta return this machine, then I’ll walk you out.”

You lean against the counter, hand idly rubbing your bump.

God, the number of times you wish you had just asked him to come in a cup for you. You could have done this turkey baster style. Better yet, the old-fashioned way.

Fuck, Jack would be such a good dad. He cares so much about the baby, and it’s not even his. He’s doing off-the-record ultrasounds in the middle of the night just so you can get some peace of mind. 

“Ready?” Jack asks, opening the door and peeking his head in.

You look up, then smile and nod at him.

Jack walks out with you, back to chairs with a hand at the small of your back. You’re surprised that he doesn’t stop there. He walks you all the way to the parking lot where you left your car.

“Y’know, I’ve got a Butterfly ultrasound at home,” he says as you reach into your bag for your keys to unlock your car. “You just hook it up to your phone, and you can check on her whenever you want.”

Your eyes light up.

“Jack, you don’t have to do that,” you say, but he can hear the awe in your voice.

“No, but I’m trying to butter you up so you name her after me,” he jokes.

You let out a soft chuckle and lean against the driver’s door of your car.

“Jacqueline is a nice name,” you hum. “It’s still in the running, I promise.”

“So… I’ll drop off the Butterfly in the morning,” he says. “In the meantime, shut off your phone, trust me when I tell you the baby’s fine, and go to sleep. Yeah?”

You sigh, watching his lips as he speaks, then putting your gaze back on his eyes.

“Yeah.”

Jack looks down at your bump and fights the urge to put his hand there and tell the kid goodbye. It’d probably be weird for him to do that, he thinks.

You don’t miss his gaze flitting to your midsection, but you’re not sure what the right thing to say is, so you stay quiet.

“Thanks again, Jack. It really means a lot. I’ll see you in the morning,” you say, opening the driver’s side door.

“Text me when you’re home. Drive safe,” he replies softly, shutting the door for you once you’re comfortably seated.

As he watches your car disappear from the parking garage, he ignores the longing feeling behind the left side of his ribs that tells him he needs to leave with you, cradle you and your bump in his big, strong, capable hands so he can shield you and her from the world.

You’re just his neighbor who appreciates his knowledge as a doctor.

Nothing more.

//

Two weeks later, Jack gets another text on his night off.

Is it normal to feel this aroused by the eggplant emoji?

He almost drops his phone when he sees the message pop up on his screen. Then another comes.

Sorry if that’s inappropriate. Google wasn’t really helpful.

If this were a patient at the E.D., he’d politely tell you, “It’s natural to feel an increased libido during pregnancy, especially in the second trimester. Use a toy or ask a partner. It’s a perfectly safe activity, even while pregnant.”

But this is you, his next-door neighbor, whom he’s had one too many wet dreams about.

Finally, Jack responds, I told you Dr. Google wasn’t reliable. Anyway, it’s normal. 

Immediately, you text back, Doesn’t feel normal.

He swears his heart is in his throat.

Makes me wonder what other things feel like…

Oh, Jesus Christ…

Okay, either tell me to fuck off or get over here.

You don’t have to tell him twice. In an instant, Jack is shoving his feet into the shoes he left by the front door and crossing the yard to your front porch, where you open the door before he can decide whether to knock or ring the doorbell.

Jack shuts the door behind him, and the tension in the air is so thick, he swears he might start sweating. 

“So…” he says, attempting to bite back a smirk. “What other things were you curious about, sweetheart?”

You huff softly at the teasing lilt to his voice and reach forward, cupping the half-hard erection growing under his pants.

He watches your hand tighten around his crotch and lets out a soft moan, leaning back against your front door.

“Yeah, that was my first guess,” he husks.

“Doctor Google said this,” you say as you squeeze him again, “was the only thing that would make me feel better. Then I thought I should get a real doctor’s opinion, so… Dr. Abbot, is your cock gonna make me all better?” you coo, your breath hot on Jack’s face.

Jack takes a moment to catch his breath and regain his composure, then plants his hands on your shoulders.

“In my professional opinion, I’d say yes,” he replies breathily.

“Yeah? Your cock is gonna make me feel good?” you croon.

He nods profusely and tilts his head back, then looks straight at you.

“Let’s get you on your bed. Want you comfortable,” he says, his face and tone serious despite how turned on he is.

You remove your hand from his crotch and take one of his hands to lead him up the stairs to your bedroom. As you ascend the stairs, you pull your sweatshirt over your head and drop it at the top, baring your naked back to Jack, earning a throaty groan from him.

“Jesus, don’t your tits hurt not wearing a bra?” he inquires as he joins you in your bedroom.

“They don’t really fit too well anymore,” you say, sitting down on the edge of your bed. “I’ve got one that fits, and it comes off as soon as I get home from work every day.”

Jack kneels in front of you before your bed and sets his hands on your thighs.

“Is there anything I should not do? Does anything hurt?” he asks, his tone sweet and concerned.

You shake your head slowly. “Just fuck the shit outta me. Give me as many orgasms as you can. It should be pretty easy, too. I usually come in under five minutes these days.”

Jack’s brows raise, and he lets out a breathy sigh.

“Oh, fuck me, sweetheart,” he mumbles. “Uh, okay, I’m clean, but you’re pregnant, and I understand if–”

You cut him off, saying, “Fuck me raw, Jack,” with a low and sultry tone.

You swear he’s growling as he reaches for the elastic of your sweatpants, pulling them down with such speed you’ve never seen in a lover before.

“Get comfortable against the pillows, so I can eat this pussy,” he whispers, yanking down your panties as well.

Now naked and exposed, you do as he says, scooting backwards until your back hits the pillows. You get comfortable, then spread your legs.

He doesn’t waste any time. Immediately, he licks a stripe up and down your slit, slurping up your juices.

It pulls moans and gasps from you as soon as his tongue makes contact with your pussy.

“Oh, God, Jack…”

“Yeah, I know,” he mumbles against your swollen lips.

Jack keeps licking stripes up and down, then he moves his tongue side to side around your clit, making a swiping motion with his tongue. He sucks on your clit like it’s a Lemon Drop.

“Oh, fuck, that’s so good,” you whine, reaching your hand down to tug at his hair with one hand, while the other starts twisting your nipple.

At the praise, he smiles against your cunt, then goes to push a thick finger inside of you, which has your back arching and your jaw dropping.

“Fuck, shit! Shit, Jack, I’m close,” you moan, more high-pitched than you care to admit.

“Already?” he rasps teasingly against you as he fucks his finger in and out of you in time with his licks to your clit.

“I fucking told you: baby hormones,” you whine, clamping down around Jack’s finger, clit spasming against his tongue.

“That’s okay, sweetheart. You come for me like the good girl I know you are,” he coos against you. “Yeah, that’s right. Show me how good I’m making you feel.”

His words are like a spell, and you do exactly as he says, gushing fluid into his mouth and around his finger as you climax with a shout of his name and an arch of your back.

“Yeah, that felt good, huh?” he coos as he laps up your arousal, which is either overstimulating or the best feeling you’ve ever experienced. 

It’s hard to tell.

“I want your cock,” you breathe, reaching for the collar of his shirt and tugging.

Jack sits up on his knees and pulls his shirt over his head. Then it hits him.

“You know about my leg, right?”

He’s pretty sure he’d said hello to you a few times when you were both taking out the trash last summer. He usually wore shorts around that time. You must’ve seen it and remembered it.

It hits you right then, too. You never really thought about it. The first day you saw it, you didn’t even realize what you had seen until later that night. You knew he was in the military before, so it wasn’t a shock to you. Jack’s prosthesis hasn’t ever been anything you needed to really consider before right now.

“Oh… Yes. Yeah, your leg. How do you normally do this?” you ask, your breath finally stabilizing as the atmosphere in the room grows more serious. 

“Usually go for cowgirl or from behind on our sides,” he says softly.

You nod and smile softly. “Cowgirl. I wanna see you.”

For some reason, that really warms his heart. You’re hormonal and would probably rather get fucked in a way that requires you to do less work, but you want to see him. 

Jack leans forward and gently kisses your lips. Your tongues mingle momentarily before he pulls back.

“I normally like taking it off,” he says. “Better range of motion, really, so…”

You nod, and your gaze softens even further. You gently cradle his face and peck his lips.

“Whatever works for you, baby,” you murmur, leaning back so he has room to get himself situated.

Jack pulls his pants and boxers down, revealing both his now half-hard erection and his prosthesis. 

He’s methodical in taking it off, yet it also appears to be done with the same amount of care as when you floss your teeth: important but nearly mindless.

He sets everything on the floor by your bed, then reaches for your hands to help you sit up so you two can switch positions.

Once Jack’s comfortable against the pillows, and he can really get a look at you, wanton and swollen and panting, his cock stands at full attention.

You reach forward and put both your hands on his shoulders for balance, then hover your weeping pussy over his cock.

Jack’s breathing picks up as he watches your arousal drip over his tip. When you begin to sink down on him, he holds your gaze, watching your lips part in pleasure, and your chest heave as you try to keep control of yourself.

When you’re fully seated on his cock, you let out a deep groan and dig your nails into his shoulders.

Jack brings his bottom lip between his teeth as he adjusts to the feeling of your tight cunt wrapped around his cock.

“Jesus fucking Christ, sweetheart,” he all but grunts.

You let out a breathy whine, squeezing and releasing and repeating at his shoulders as you grow accustomed to how fucking thick he is.

“Fuck, Jack,” you sigh. “Didn’t realize you were so… Oh, fuck…”

He reaches up and grabs your wrists, not moving them away, just gently rubbing his thumbs against your skin.

“You look so beautiful like this,” he rasps. “You’re a fucking dream, I swear to God.”

You furrow your brow, and you can’t seem to close your mouth. You haven’t even started bouncing on his cock yet, and you’re already a mess.

“Those hormones got you all kinds of messed up, huh, baby? Can’t even respond to a compliment because you’re too focused on how good my cock feels inside of you,” he teases, his voice low and rough.

You moan softly and try to speak, but no words come out.

“Cock drunk already? 

At that, you let out a breathy laugh and slide your hands down to his biceps, then you raise your hips, only to lower them again, slowly finding your pace.

As you settle on a moderate yet hard pace, both your and Jack’s moans, and whines, groans, and gasps pick up.

“Fuck, I should’ve asked you to do this 25 weeks ago,” you groan when he brings a thumb to your clit.

Jack whines and throws his head back against the pillows, his hips jutting up into you in response.

“Shit, I considered offering to jizz in a cup for you, sweetheart,” he admits, bringing his head back up and squeezing so tightly on your hips that you know there will be bruises tomorrow.

Your lids suddenly feel heavier at the revelation. You could have had Jack Abbot’s baby inside you this whole time? Sperm donor 18645 didn’t need to get involved?

“Oh, God,” you moan, your climax peaking, overwhelmed by Jack’s admission and his hands on your body, as well as his cock inside of you.

“Oh, is my good girl coming?” he coos, bringing one hand up to your breast, the other busying itself with your clit. “Yeah? That felt good? You like fucking yourself on my cock?”

You regain your composure, though you’re still shaking slightly when you begin rocking your hips against his.

“Want you to come, Jack. Want you to fill me up and show me how you’ll put my next baby into me,” you babble, your voice breathy and high-pitched.

Jack lets out a throaty groan and sits up a bit further, wrapping his arms around you while he ruts into you from below.

“Yeah? Need another baby? Wanna do it the old-fashioned way next time? Greedy much?” he husks in your ear.

You moan and wrap your arms around his shoulder, relishing the way his pubic hair feels brushing against your clit, as well as the hard planes of his abdomen pressing against the taut, swollen skin of your bump.

“She’s gonna need a playmate,” you reply, your voice shaky.

“I’ll give her a playmate,” he promises, speaking through gritted teeth.

“Oh, yeah?” you whine, feeling his cock twitch inside of you. “Then do it, Dr. Abbot,” you dare with a whisper.

And that’s all it takes for Jack to blow his load inside of you, hot and sticky and perfect. His orgasm triggers your third, having you gushing all over Jack’s lap.

You lean your forehead against his own and shut your eyes as you try to catch your breath.

“Mm, thanks for the…treatment, doc,” you murmur after a few moments, not quite sure how to act now that the passion has died down.

You’re in your neighbor’s lap, his cock softening inside of you, a sperm donor’s baby in your belly, and the promise of both of you giving said baby a sibling down the line hangs heavy in the air. It’s fucking uncharted territory.

Jack smiles and breathes out a laugh as he leans back against the pillows.

“Yeah, it’s no problem. You can keep refilling this prescription, too, y’know,” he offers.

You furrow your brow. “Seriously?”

He nods. “Look, since you moved in, I thought you were beautiful. You’re funny, too. Smart, easy to talk to. I didn’t think asking my neighbor out was that great of an idea, but you went and got pregnant and made me your personal encyclopedia on pregnancy, and I gotta say, sweetheart, how much time we’ve been spending together because of it… It’s making me forget about how stupid it’d be to date my neighbor.”

You can only sigh and shake your head.

“Jesus, Jack,” you mumble.

“What? Did I read this wrong?” he asks softly.

You shake your head.

“No, no, I just… I don’t know. I totally gave up on finding someone. It’s the whole reason we’re here, appeasing my hormones,” you joke, a hand going to your belly. “You just surprised me.”

“Good surprise?” he asks, laying his hand beside yours on your bump.

You nod and give him a soft smile.

“So where do we go from here?”

With a shrug, your smile widens. “I think you just keep doing that nude yoga by your window every morning, and we’ll go from there.”

You scheming, sneaky woman…

tags: @person-005 p.s. I plan on doing more for Jack Abbot, so if you want to be added to the taglist or my all works taglist, just comment asking!

dividers by @/saradika-graphics

[hehehehahahohohuhu]

i read the first paragraph and knew this would be a banger. and then i read this line "He’d jizz in a cup for free and steal the equipment from the hospital just to put his baby in you." and i KNEWWWWWW this is some top notch shit

[dreamedaboutitinthedark]

ahhhhh I’m so happy these silly lines stood out to you!! Thank you so much for reading and reblogging and the sweet words 💞😋

[dreamedaboutitinthedark]

Chronological One Shots (following same pairing)

1. Doctor Google

2. Doctor Feel Better

3. Doctor Love

4. Doctor Biceps

5. Doctor Decision-Maker

6. Doctor Fiancé

7. Doctor Husband

Drabbles

Babygirl Looking Like Jack (not canon; a silly “what if?”)

[hehehehahahohohuhu]

rereading each and every installment im about to get extremely annoying 😋

[dreamedaboutitinthedark]

yayyyy!!! this is the best way to prepare for the baby chapter lol I hope you have fun!!! <333

[dreamedaboutitinthedark]

Doctor Husband

Summary: After you get back from your babymoon, you and Jack elope. When you get home from the courthouse, you get the idea to film your wedding night.

Pairing: Jack Abbot x Pregnant!Reader

Content warnings: MDNI, pregnancy, Jack has some grief over his first wife and deals with it appropriately (it would do his character a disservice to not mention it in this chapter plus it's very brief), amputee care performed by reader bc she loves Jack bad, mention of neglectful parents (patients at the Pitt), anti-Trump comment, elopement, spanking, humping, smut, wedding night sex, filming sex, pregnant sex, praise kink, Jack "Talks You Through It" Abbot

Word count: 5,141

Series Masterlist | Read on ao3 here | dividers by @/lariesographic

Author's note: first of all: Pittsburgh/PA natives, if I screwed up how courthouse elopements are done, I apologize. (I kind of felt like Jack wouldn't want to go the self-uniting route so we didn't do that.) second, feel free to imagine the rings as any metal and any stone as I didn't describe them and the pictures are purely for aesthetics. finally, Baby Abbot is making her appearance in the next installment, which I am posting tomorrow!! one last thing, the 1k followers milestone is near, so if you would like to tell me what you want to see for that in the comments of this post or this one, I'll love you forever <333 anyways let's get these guys married ty for reading I hope you enjoy pls don't be shy to tell me your thoughts! <3 reminder that fanfic writers write for free and reblogs are ALSO free

EDIT: READ THIS POST BEFORE CONTINUING

The day after you get back, you and Jack head to the Allegheny County Clerk’s Office to apply for your marriage license. You came straight from your 36-week appointment, so you’re a little tired.

You yawn about seven times throughout the process, but Jack decides against teasing you over it. At the end of it, you’re reminded of the three-day waiting period before you’re able to have a ceremony.

Back at home, the two of you eat takeout on the couch, then watch The Sopranos while Jack rubs your feet.

Halfway through the episode, you look over at Jack.

“Babe, what do you want in a wife?” you ask softly, mostly joking.

He shrugs, eyes fixed on the screen. “Just want you to use my cards. That’s it.”

You snort softly. “That’s it?”

Jack sighs and thinks about it for a second. “Yeah. We’ll set up a joint bank account. If you want to, you can keep your own personal account if that’ll help you feel more secure, but, like, when you go get your hair done or do grocery or clothes shopping, I want you to use my card. I want to take care of you.”

You smile and move your feet out of his lap so you can kiss his cheek. “I love you so much it makes me sick.”

He snorts at that. “I’m not worth getting sick over.”

“Sure you are,” you purr in his ear, pressing a soft kiss to his earlobe after nibbling on it.

You lean your head against his shoulder for a while, content to just watch TV with your fiancé for the time being. Eventually, you lean back again and shove your feet back in Jack’s lap for him to rub. Dutifully, he gets the hint, and you look on your phone for wedding bands for Jack.

As much as you liked his black wedding band he had for Helene, you don’t want him to have the same one twice, and you’d like the metals to match.

// 

In the morning, Jack goes back to work. You have one showing in the late afternoon, so after your late breakfast, you head to the jewelry store you looked into online to buy Jack’s wedding band.

When you get there, you’re floored by the fact that a simple band can cost as much as $4,000. Lucky for you, the one you’ve picked is $800, but still.

“Shotgun wedding?” the cashier asks as she rings you up.

You choose not to dignify her with an answer and instead just stare at her as she packages the ring up, which only serves to make the cashier uncomfortable, which, in your opinion, is a good thing.

Jack doesn’t get home until 8:30 tonight. Something about a trauma going long or whatever, but what matters is that he is home, and you get to show him his ring.

He’s not in the best spirits when he gets home. You call his name from the kitchen, and his response isn’t all that enthusiastic.

You’ve got his plate of dinner in the microwave when you hear him shuffle into the kitchen and sit down at the island, brow pinched.

“You okay?” you ask softly.

He nods. “Just tired.”

He rests his head on his hands, both elbows on the counter.

When the microwave beeps, you take it out, quietly grab utensils from the drawer, and softly set the food down in front of him. You press a kiss to the back of his head, your fingers gently scratching over his shoulders through his scrub top.

Jack turns his head to kiss you, though with the angle of him sitting and how you’re leaning over him, he ends up kissing the side of your breast, his nose knocking into your armpit.

You chuckle softly and pat his back, then lean your head down to peck his lips.

“Got your ring today,” you say softly as you head over to the fridge to grab a beer.

“Oh, yeah?”

You nod and hand him the bottle.

“It’s simple, and it matches my ring,” you say, fiddling with your engagement ring. “It’s in the bedroom.”

He smiles, the bags under his eyes prominent while he eats.

“Can I do anything for you?” you ask softly.

Jack thinks about it, eyes fixed on the granite countertop. He’s probably too tired to ask for much, so you offer on your own.

“How about after your shower, I give you a massage and take care of all your leg stuff for you tonight?” you suggest, speaking softly.

His brow furrows slightly. “You’re 36 weeks pregnant; you shouldn’t be–”

You shake your head. “I feel good today; you don’t. You always take care of me, so I wanna take care of you tonight.”

He turns his head toward you and sees the sincerity in your expression, the love in your gaze.

“Okay,” he says softly.

You smile and tell him about your day while he finishes eating. When he’s done, you send him off to the shower and take care of his dishes for him. 

After the kitchen is cleaned up, you check that everything’s locked and turned off, and once that’s taken care of, you head to the bedroom.

You listen to the water turn off and unmake the bed, then grab Jack’s lotions and wait on the bed, one hand mindlessly following the baby’s kicks.

He comes out a few minutes later, curls damp, boxers on his hips, elbow crutch in one hand, the prosthesis in the other. He sits down next to you, setting the prosthesis on the floor, the crutch leaning against his nightstand.

“C’mere,” you mumble, patting the space closer to you.

He shuffles over, and you squirt some lotion into your palm. You rub it together in your palms, then begin applying it to his stump, massaging gently and inspecting the skin in the way you’ve been learning to from all the articles you’ve read lately.

“Feel okay?” you ask softly, looking at him momentarily.

“Mhm, you’re doing good,” he says, his voice a little hoarse.

You smile, feeling a little proud of yourself. 

Slowly, your hands work their way up to his thigh, not wanton, just completely focused on making sure his leg is drained of any soreness or lingering pain from wearing the prosthesis for nearly 14 hours.

“Did anything go particularly bad today?” you ask after a few minutes of silence.

Jack’s a talker, chatty. You don’t often see him quiet after work.

He shrugs. “This kid. His parents were too busy fighting over whatever girl was in the dad’s DMs to notice their two-year-old falling down the stairs. He broke his leg, and his parents were still arguing. I had to call the social worker, and she called family services. It sucked.”

You frown and gently squeeze his thigh. “Is that what kept you late?”

“No.” He shakes his head. “A motorcycle accident kept me late. Nothing too sad, but definitely gross.”

“Mm.” You focus back on the massage. “Hope that little boy’s okay.”

Jack hums softly and reaches out to tuck your hair behind your ear.

“I love you,” he says. “I love that you like talking to me.”

You smile and swallow the lump in your throat. “I love talking to you. You’re my favorite person.” You look down at your belly. “You’re about to get bumped to second place, though.”

Jack huffs quietly at that. “That’s okay. She’s the priority.”

Once it seems like the lotion has fully set in, you slip off the bed and pull something out of your nightstand drawer. You turn back toward Jack and cuddle up next to him.

“My ring?” he asks.

“Mhm.” 

You open the box, revealing the simple band that perfectly matches the band of your engagement ring.

“It’s perfect,” he mutters softly. “Can I try it on?”

You nod excitedly and take his hand and slip the ring on his fourth finger.

“Perfect fit,” you whisper. “Does it feel good?”

“Yeah, it’s great, sweetheart. I love it, you did good.”

He turns his head to peck your lips. Then he reaches into his nightstand, pulls out another ring box, and opens it.

“This is your wedding band. I got them as a set, so they go together. You like it?” he asks softly as he holds the ring out to you.

“I do,” you say, a big grin on your face. “Put it on me.”

You hold out your left hand. Jack removes your engagement ring, slides your wedding band into place, then puts the engagement ring back on.

“Yeah,” you sigh. “That’s great.”

You slip the wedding band off and hand it back to Jack, and he does the same for you.

The two of you turn out the lights, and Jack holds his arm out to you. Once you’re secure against his side, he kisses your forehead, one hand slipping under the covers to rub your belly, the first time all day.

“Fuck, I missed her,” he mumbles softly.

Those words bring the biggest smile to your face. Your daughter’s daddy missed her. She has a daddy that misses her when he goes to work. She’s the luckiest girl in the world, and she’s not even born yet.

“She hasn’t stopped kicking since you got home.”

“Daddy’s girl,” he mumbles tiredly.

//

Jack only worked an eight-hour shift today. It’s 3:45, and instead of going home, he’s sitting on the grass in front of Helene Abbot’s headstone.

“She said yes to my proposal,” he says softly. “Gonna do it tomorrow. We’re probably gonna have a proper wedding later. Tomorrow’s just legal. We wanted to be married before the baby comes, and she joked about getting to be an Abbot before the baby.”

He chuckles softly and wipes a tear.

“I never thought I’d be anyone else’s husband, Helene. I thought you were it. I thought I’d be lucky if I found a consistent booty call.” He cringes at himself for the joke. “Anyway, I just… I got lucky with you once; I figured you don’t get lucky twice, but here I am.”

Jack stares at the letters of his first wife’s name and sighs. He rubs the tears from his eyes and shakes his head.

“Not totally sure what’s appropriate to say here, but what’s important is that you know that I love you both. You were everything at one time, and now you’re gone, and I’m kinda jealous of you for that, but mostly because you don’t have to live through a second Trump administration.” Jack purses his lips. The stupid jokes are really on fire today. “I’m sorry. I never thought I’d ever have to do this. Um… I miss you, but I’m happy. I’m finally happy again, and I know that would make you happy, so… Yeah, next time we talk, I’ll be a married man again.”

He looks at the bouquet of flowers he brought and adjusts them in the pot.

“I hope you like this bouquet. There wasn’t a great selection this week.” He stands. “Bye. I’ll talk to you soon.”

//

You and Jack talked for hours last night. About his first marriage, how he’s coping, how excited the both of you are for what’s ahead, for the marriage that almost no one besides the two of you knows about, the imminent birth of your first child, everything she has in store for the two of you.

The two of you wake in the late morning. Your wedding is at 3:30. You have time to laze before you have to get ready.

To pass the time, Jack eats your pussy twice and makes sure you’re well fed in anticipation of consummating the wedding later tonight.

Despite your growing belly, you were able to fit into an old white dress you bought for a vacation last year. Is it the most comfortable? No, but you’ve called a friend who takes pictures for real estate and asked him to take your wedding photos, so you’d like to get as much of the full effect as possible.

Jack watches the entirety of Top Gun while he waits for you to get ready. When you come out just before it’s time to leave, his jaw is practically on the floor. Your makeup is perfect, your hair is styled flawlessly, and he’s in fucking awe of the woman before him, beautiful, full of his baby, and wearing his ring.

“You’re fucking stunning,” he says from his spot on the couch before he stands and puts his hands on your waist to pull you in for a kiss.

“You got my ring?” he asks against your lips.

You nod and pull it out of your purse. “Wanna put mine in there?”

He nods and drops it in next to his.

The drive to the courthouse is filled with anticipation. Jack’s hand on your thigh is warm and loving.

When you’re finally on the Grand Staircase in Allegheny Courthouse in front of Judge Daniels, you and Jack both can feel your heartbeats in your throat.

Your hands are joined as Judge Daniels delivers a few quick words. Then he looks at Jack.

“Do you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, for better or for worse, for richer or poorer, through sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, from this day forward until death do you part?”

Jack’s eyes fill with tears as he looks at you. He never thought the pretty neighbor who took her trash out at the same time he did every week would be his wife, but here he is, about to legally make you and that baby his, all because you really appreciated his medical advice. 

He nods and lets the tears fall because he could never be embarrassed about being moved by his love for you.

“I do,” he chokes out.

You swallow the lump in your throat and squeeze Jack’s hand before Judge Daniels turns to you.

“Do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, for better or for worse, for richer or poorer, through sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, from this day forward until death do you part?”

You nod and blink away your tears so you can see Jack clearly. You never want to forget how handsome he looks in this moment, and definitely not how much love you can see just in his eyes.

“I do,” you say softly.

Judge Daniels smiles. “Now for the exchanging of the rings.”

Jack had put the rings in his pocket for the ceremony. He takes yours out of his pocket and takes hold of your left hand.

“Alright, Jack, repeat after me,” Judge Daniels instructs. “With this ring, I thee wed, and pledge to you my love.”

Jack gently places your wedding band on your left ring finger as he says, “With this ring, I thee wed and pledge to you my love,” never looking away from you for even a second.

“Same thing,” Judge Daniels says to you with a smile as Jack hands you his ring. “With this ring, I thee wed, and pledge to you my love.”

You swallow the lump in your throat again and blink away more tears as you take Jack’s hand with your shaky one. 

“With this ring, I thee wed, and pledge to you my love,” you say as you place the ring on his finger.

Judge Daniels smiles at the two of you and says, “By the authority vested in me by the state of Pennsylvania, I now pronounce you husband and wife.”

The judge might say something more; you’re not sure, because Jack cups your jaw and kisses you with such passion, you can’t take in anything else besides the feel of your husband on your skin.

Your friend, Mikey, takes a few photos for you outside the courthouse, but Jack heard your stomach growl in the car before the ceremony even started, so he tries to Zelle Mikey the money plus tip, but Mikey only has Cashapp and Venmo, so Jack ends up shoving the two hundred dollar bills in his wallet in Mikey’s hand before whisking you off to the parking lot.

$200 made in less than ten minutes on his day off. Not a bad day for Mikey Diaz.

“What do you want to eat?” Jack asks as he opens the passenger side door for you. “Sit down? Takeout? Fast food?”

You sigh and think about it as he shuts the door and rounds the hood to get in the driver’s seat. He buckles and starts the car and looks at you.

“Kinda want Dairy Queen,” you say.

So Jack drives to Dairy Queen, and that’s your wedding dinner.

When you get home and kick your shoes off, you look over at Jack while he puts his keys in the catch-all bowl.

“Would it be weird if we filmed it? Our wedding night?” you ask. “At least the first round.”

Jack’s brows raise slightly. He never thought you’d want to film your wedding night, but as he really considers it, he thinks maybe it’d be nice to always remember your first time as husband and wife.

“On one of our phones?” he asks, one brow cocked in curiosity.

You shake your head. “I have a camcorder.”

The corner of his mouth quirks just slightly at that. “Okay.”

You smile and pull him closer by his belt loops. “Yeah?”

He nods and leans in for a kiss. You moan against him, and his hands grab at your ass. Just before he pulls away, he delivers a gentle slap to your ass.

“Mm. Okay, the camera’s in our closet,” you say breathily.

Jack follows you to the bedroom and watches from the threshold of the closet as you search a box for the camcorder.

You stand up straight and present the camera to him.

“Think I’m gonna break this in while you’re recovering,” he mutters before nibbling at your earlobe.

You scoff and gently smack his chest. “Your spank bank is getting too fucking big, baby.”

“Never too big,” he says, walking over to the bed. “It’s like my shrine to you and your perfect body.”

You snort and set the camera up on the dresser.

“Angle good?” he asks. “I want the whole bed to be in frame.”

“Jesus, what have you got planned for me?” you giggle as you adjust the camera.

“Nothing’s planned, per se,” he says. “Just wanna make sure we don’t miss a second of this.”

When you’re both happy with the camera angle, you press record and walk over to Jack.

He kisses you, one hand in your hair, the other gently pulling the skirt of your dress up.

You step back, and Jack slowly pulls the skirt of your dress up your legs, over your bump and breasts and over your head, leaving you in white lace panties.

“Look so cute, sweetheart,” he says, fingers toying with the lacey fabric.

You smile and bring your hands to his white button-up, eyes fixed on the rolled-up sleeves stretching across his thick forearms. You undo the buttons while Jack pulls his belt through the loops.

He drops the belt and shrugs the open shirt off.

“So strong,” you mumble, fingertips grazing his sculpted chest to his softer abdomen.

Your fingers fiddle with the button of his slacks, then pull the zipper down. You push the pants down and let them pull at his feet. 

Jack’s hands go to your breasts to gently squeeze, pulling a pornographic moan from your lips, which he wasn’t expecting this early, but he’ll roll with it.

You sit down on the edge of the bed and direct him to stand in between your legs. You pull him closer, and with this angle, his half-hard cock rubs against your gravid stomach through his boxers.

He lets out a whimper and flexes his hands by his sides. Where the fuck did you even get the idea to make him grind against your bump? However you came up with it is irrelevant because Jack’s growing harder at a speed he didn’t think he was capable of anymore.

“Fuck, I’m gonna miss this when it’s gone,” Jack says, panting as he looks down at you.

You smile and lean back a little to play with your nipples, which has Jack grunting and rutting against your stomach.

“So pretty, sweetheart,” he rasps.

He takes your left hand and kisses over your ring.

“My gorgeous wife,” he pants against your hand.

You beam up at him and scoot farther back on the bed.

“Want my husband to eat my pussy,” you purr.

Jack smiles and sits down on the bed to remove his prosthesis.

“I love you, Jack,” you sigh contentedly while you watch his fingers move.

“I love you, too, sweetheart.”

When it’s off, Jack helps you get propped up by the pillows, then lies on his stomach between your open legs. He presses an overly wet kiss to your soaking cunt through the lace of your panties, then hooks his fingers through them and pulls them down your legs, tossing them to the side.

Jack doesn’t waste time teasing you; he wants you to feel good as much as possible.

He licks a long stripe from your hole to your clit, then delivers concentrated circling licks to your clit while one finger teases your hole before it pushes inside.

“Jesus Christ, sweetheart, you’re already fucking soaked,” he mumbles into your cunt. 

“Mm, becoming a wife is a turn-on,” you sigh, your hands burying themselves in his hair.

He groans against you, and the sound reverberates through your entire body, causing your grip on his hair to tighten.

“So pretty,” he mumbles, licking up and down, side to side, just focusing on your clit like it’s all that matters.

“Fuck, I’m coming,” you mutter softly. 

“Good girl,” Jack mumbles, his finger moving in and out of you quicker, tongue moving quicker against your clit until he’s slurping up your arousal.

“Did so good,” he says, leaning over your bump to kiss you.

When he pulls away, he pushes his finger in your mouth to make you taste yourself. He gets a little greedy and fucks your mouth for a few seconds, pumping his finger in and out of your mouth, his heavy cock twitching in his boxers against your bump.

“Fuck,” he growls as he pulls away.

You reach out and pull at his boxers, and he pulls them off as fast as he can.

Once he’s fully nude, Jack lies down next to you and helps you turn on your side. He lies behind you, his back to your chest. Slowly, he inches inside of you, hands on your breasts, flicking your nipples while you get used to the stretch.

“You’re so beautiful,” Jack whispers in your ear. “So gorgeous, growing our baby. Such pretty eyes, sweetest laugh, brightest smile. I fucking love you, sweetheart.”

You whine softly and cover his hands on your breasts. 

“Love you, too, baby,” you whine softly.

He kisses the back of your neck and starts slowly grinding into you.

“Fuck, you’re all mine now,” he mumbles into your hair. “My gorgeous wife. Fuck, you feel so good, sweetheart.”

His hands knead softly at your swollen breasts, and his hips move slowly but with purpose. It’s possibly the most sensual experience you’ll ever have. 

“I’m so happy,” you say as Jack’s hand starts rubbing your clit. “I gave up on this; I never thought I’d have it.”

Jack leans over your body and kisses the corner of your lips.

“I know,” he whispers. “You deserve it, though. I love you so much. I wanna spend the rest of my life making you happy. You’re amazing, beautiful, intelligent, and confident. I love you. I’m in awe of you.”

You’re truly the most incredible woman in the world. You didn’t like your office job, so you got your real estate license, and after years of hard work, you have your ideal hours and make huge commissions. You wanted a baby, and you were done waiting, so you made it happen all on your own. You wanted sex, so you flirted with Jack, and that spiraled into this, and he couldn’t be happier.

You kiss him again and moan into him.

“You’re so sweet,” you whisper. “You take such good care of your family. You make me feel like an angel.”

Jack kisses your cheek and picks up the pace of his thrusts.

“You are an angel; you’re my angel. You and our girl. You’re both perfect,” he babbles in your ear.

A tear slips down your face, and you bring Jack’s left hand to your lips, the metal of his ring cold against your skin.

“I love you. You’re an incredible human being,” you sniff.

Jack kisses you again.

“You okay, sweetheart?” he asks softly.

You nod and smile over your shoulder. 

“You just make me so happy,” you explain. “You’re so good at fucking me, and cooking for me, and listening to me, and talking to me, and spending time with me, and touching me, and so sweet when you talk to the baby, and you fold her onesies just right, and you built all her furniture, and…”

You wipe your eyes and reach your hand behind you to bury a hand in Jack’s hair.

“You’re a fucking dream, and I’m hormonal,” you say.

Jack chuckles softly and kisses your shoulder. 

“Do you need to stop, or should I just make you come?” he asks.

“No, I need to come; I’m throbbing through the tears,” you say, laughing at yourself.

Jack chuckles into your hair and picks the pace back up.

“I’m gonna make my wife come on her husband’s cock,” he rasps in your ear, hands groping your body, from your breasts to your belly to your clit to your thighs. “That sound good, sweetheart?”

You moan and clench around Jack’s cock.

“Sounds perfect,” you practically slur.

His fingers move deftly against your clit, and it’s not long before you’re a moaning mess.

“Shit,” you gasp. “Fuck, Jack, I’m gonna come, fuck.”

You come with a shudder, gushing around his cock as he fucks you through it.

“There you go, sweetheart. Good girl, taking your husband’s cock, huh?” he coos in your ear. “Look so pretty when you come, even from behind.”

You let out a tired sigh, and Jack kisses your neck.

“Fill me up, Jack,” you mumble.

That’s all he needs to hear. He growls in your ear, and his cock starts pistoning in and out of you at an almost selfish pace, but you asked him to fill you up, so that’s what he’ll do.

With a choked moan, Jack’s fingers tighten on your body, and he shoots rope after rope of his cum inside of your fucked out cunt, eliciting tiny moans from the back of your throat.

He comes down, panting, his arms still secure around you. The camcorder is completely forgotten at this point. Right now, you’re just newlyweds on their wedding night, happy to be in each other’s embrace.

//

The next day, Jack calls his parents to tell them about the wedding. They’re ecstatic and ask again when the time will be right to visit and meet you and the baby.

Meanwhile, you have brunch with your mother the next day and explain the situation to her.

“We’ll have an actual proper wedding with everyone later, I promise,” you tell her.

You can tell she’s not happy, but she doesn’t say anything about it.

“As long as you’re happy, babybug,” she says, flashing you a tight smile.

//

The last few weeks of your otherwise amazing pregnancy can only be described as not fun.

The only remotely fun thing is that the paperwork you filed to change your last name to Abbot cleared quicker than you thought it would. 

However, it’s still hot out, you’ve finally started to notice Braxton-Hicks contractions, and the baby has decided to grow rapidly over the last few weeks. 

At 37 weeks, you officially start your indefinite maternity leave, but that leaves you bored and alone around the house half the time.

What’s worse is that you’ve stopped having sex. It’s not that you don’t want to; you’re just too big to sustain it anymore.

Jack still eats you out almost every day, and you’ve blown him here and there, but his cock hasn’t been inside your pussy in what feels like forever.

You spend most of your time cleaning the house so you stay busy, do laundry here and there, and prepare meals for the freezer for when the baby comes.

When you’re not being productive, you sit on the couch watching movies while you compile a list of baby names you think might suit the baby.

At 39 weeks and five days, Jack sends you off to get a mani-pedi, a prenatal massage, and to get your hair done, all with the card that says you’re an Abbot now. 

At your 40-week appointment, the doctor tells you you’re still only one centimeter dilated and 20% effaced.

You insist that Jack continues working even after you go overdue.

“You said it yourself: it’s perfectly normal to go overdue with your first baby, and it’s usually the case that your first labor and delivery is long, so you can go to work, and if it starts happening while you’re there, I’ll call you, and Al-Hashimi will cover for you until another doctor comes to cover the rest of your shift. We talked about this two months ago, Jack,” you remind him.

Jack chews on his bottom lip and stares at the floor when you finish speaking, clearly debating if arguing with you is even worth it. He could very easily call the hospital and claim he’s got the flu and go change out of these scrubs you practically forced him into.

“Jack, we’re about to spend two months together, every day, all day. As much as I love you, I’m going to get sick of you, so please go to work in the meantime,” you add.

He sighs, and you cup his face to pull him in for a kiss. 

“All you’ll do is sit here and worry about me. Go take your mind off me with some lacerations and concussions, yeah?”

He sighs again and pecks your lips two more times. 

“Yeah. Okay, sweetheart,” he agrees before bending at the waist to kiss your bump. “I love you,” he says as he straightens up.

“I love you, too. Now go make yourself useful,” you say, half-joking.

With one more kiss to your lips, Jack gathers his things and heads out the door.

hi! reminder that reblogs from those on a taglist are very much appreciated <333

All works taglist:  @person-005 @madpanda75 @tearsweetenedtea @canonisoptional @xoxoloverb @saralovesjoelmiller @youknowiloveyou-so

All Shawn Hatosy characters taglist: @realwhoreforfictionalmen  @ezmina98 @hehehehahahohohuhu @janeety @jennataurus @esmemia16 @rumoured-whispers

Jack Abbot taglist: @michasia24 @its--fandom--darling @staygoldsquatchling02 @starstruckl @overthyme24 @hoziersguitarr @thehockeynerd30 @louisbelongstome28

Doctor Google taglist: @itsmycorneroftheinternet @myhopefulcollectionqueenfan-blog @karleyyyjaeee @laughsandlivia @babyspiceeeeeeee @merlin-288 @cari87 @kidd3ath @saralovesjoelmiller @agamayayayaya @nyxmoretti @ubiquitous-corvids @bookluver14 @thehockeynerd30 @cafereads @sukunasnumberoneslut @imaginesnnerd @whatliesaheadmatters

p.s. if you would like to be removed from any taglist, just let me know! and if you would like to join a taglist or change your current preferences, click here! <3

[hoziersguitarr]

Ts was amazing I loved it best thing to read after my evil job

[dreamedaboutitinthedark]

<33333 I'm so happy you enjoyedddd tyyy for reading <333

[dreamedaboutitinthedark]

I lowk need lactation kink Jack abbot. Just a bit. No? Am I muted?

full volume, baby!

for "Doctor Google" or Abbot in general? either way things are about to get milky (terrible joke ik. not even really a joke)

pls respond anonymous!!! 🙏

[dreamedaboutitinthedark]

Doctor Husband

Summary: After you get back from your babymoon, you and Jack elope. When you get home from the courthouse, you get the idea to film your wedding night.

Pairing: Jack Abbot x Pregnant!Reader

Content warnings: MDNI, pregnancy, Jack has some grief over his first wife and deals with it appropriately (it would do his character a disservice to not mention it in this chapter plus it's very brief), amputee care performed by reader bc she loves Jack bad, mention of neglectful parents (patients at the Pitt), anti-Trump comment, elopement, spanking, humping, smut, wedding night sex, filming sex, pregnant sex, praise kink, Jack "Talks You Through It" Abbot

Word count: 5,141

Series Masterlist | Read on ao3 here | dividers by @/lariesographic

Author's note: first of all: Pittsburgh/PA natives, if I screwed up how courthouse elopements are done, I apologize. (I kind of felt like Jack wouldn't want to go the self-uniting route so we didn't do that.) second, feel free to imagine the rings as any metal and any stone as I didn't describe them and the pictures are purely for aesthetics. finally, Baby Abbot is making her appearance in the next installment, which I am posting tomorrow!! one last thing, the 1k followers milestone is near, so if you would like to tell me what you want to see for that in the comments of this post or this one, I'll love you forever <333 anyways let's get these guys married ty for reading I hope you enjoy pls don't be shy to tell me your thoughts! <3 reminder that fanfic writers write for free and reblogs are ALSO free

EDIT: READ THIS POST BEFORE CONTINUING

The day after you get back, you and Jack head to the Allegheny County Clerk’s Office to apply for your marriage license. You came straight from your 36-week appointment, so you’re a little tired.

You yawn about seven times throughout the process, but Jack decides against teasing you over it. At the end of it, you’re reminded of the three-day waiting period before you’re able to have a ceremony.

Back at home, the two of you eat takeout on the couch, then watch The Sopranos while Jack rubs your feet.

Halfway through the episode, you look over at Jack.

“Babe, what do you want in a wife?” you ask softly, mostly joking.

He shrugs, eyes fixed on the screen. “Just want you to use my cards. That’s it.”

You snort softly. “That’s it?”

Jack sighs and thinks about it for a second. “Yeah. We’ll set up a joint bank account. If you want to, you can keep your own personal account if that’ll help you feel more secure, but, like, when you go get your hair done or do grocery or clothes shopping, I want you to use my card. I want to take care of you.”

You smile and move your feet out of his lap so you can kiss his cheek. “I love you so much it makes me sick.”

He snorts at that. “I’m not worth getting sick over.”

“Sure you are,” you purr in his ear, pressing a soft kiss to his earlobe after nibbling on it.

You lean your head against his shoulder for a while, content to just watch TV with your fiancé for the time being. Eventually, you lean back again and shove your feet back in Jack’s lap for him to rub. Dutifully, he gets the hint, and you look on your phone for wedding bands for Jack.

As much as you liked his black wedding band he had for Helene, you don’t want him to have the same one twice, and you’d like the metals to match.

// 

In the morning, Jack goes back to work. You have one showing in the late afternoon, so after your late breakfast, you head to the jewelry store you looked into online to buy Jack’s wedding band.

When you get there, you’re floored by the fact that a simple band can cost as much as $4,000. Lucky for you, the one you’ve picked is $800, but still.

“Shotgun wedding?” the cashier asks as she rings you up.

You choose not to dignify her with an answer and instead just stare at her as she packages the ring up, which only serves to make the cashier uncomfortable, which, in your opinion, is a good thing.

Jack doesn’t get home until 8:30 tonight. Something about a trauma going long or whatever, but what matters is that he is home, and you get to show him his ring.

He’s not in the best spirits when he gets home. You call his name from the kitchen, and his response isn’t all that enthusiastic.

You’ve got his plate of dinner in the microwave when you hear him shuffle into the kitchen and sit down at the island, brow pinched.

“You okay?” you ask softly.

He nods. “Just tired.”

He rests his head on his hands, both elbows on the counter.

When the microwave beeps, you take it out, quietly grab utensils from the drawer, and softly set the food down in front of him. You press a kiss to the back of his head, your fingers gently scratching over his shoulders through his scrub top.

Jack turns his head to kiss you, though with the angle of him sitting and how you’re leaning over him, he ends up kissing the side of your breast, his nose knocking into your armpit.

You chuckle softly and pat his back, then lean your head down to peck his lips.

“Got your ring today,” you say softly as you head over to the fridge to grab a beer.

“Oh, yeah?”

You nod and hand him the bottle.

“It’s simple, and it matches my ring,” you say, fiddling with your engagement ring. “It’s in the bedroom.”

He smiles, the bags under his eyes prominent while he eats.

“Can I do anything for you?” you ask softly.

Jack thinks about it, eyes fixed on the granite countertop. He’s probably too tired to ask for much, so you offer on your own.

“How about after your shower, I give you a massage and take care of all your leg stuff for you tonight?” you suggest, speaking softly.

His brow furrows slightly. “You’re 36 weeks pregnant; you shouldn’t be–”

You shake your head. “I feel good today; you don’t. You always take care of me, so I wanna take care of you tonight.”

He turns his head toward you and sees the sincerity in your expression, the love in your gaze.

“Okay,” he says softly.

You smile and tell him about your day while he finishes eating. When he’s done, you send him off to the shower and take care of his dishes for him. 

After the kitchen is cleaned up, you check that everything’s locked and turned off, and once that’s taken care of, you head to the bedroom.

You listen to the water turn off and unmake the bed, then grab Jack’s lotions and wait on the bed, one hand mindlessly following the baby’s kicks.

He comes out a few minutes later, curls damp, boxers on his hips, elbow crutch in one hand, the prosthesis in the other. He sits down next to you, setting the prosthesis on the floor, the crutch leaning against his nightstand.

“C’mere,” you mumble, patting the space closer to you.

He shuffles over, and you squirt some lotion into your palm. You rub it together in your palms, then begin applying it to his stump, massaging gently and inspecting the skin in the way you’ve been learning to from all the articles you’ve read lately.

“Feel okay?” you ask softly, looking at him momentarily.

“Mhm, you’re doing good,” he says, his voice a little hoarse.

You smile, feeling a little proud of yourself. 

Slowly, your hands work their way up to his thigh, not wanton, just completely focused on making sure his leg is drained of any soreness or lingering pain from wearing the prosthesis for nearly 14 hours.

“Did anything go particularly bad today?” you ask after a few minutes of silence.

Jack’s a talker, chatty. You don’t often see him quiet after work.

He shrugs. “This kid. His parents were too busy fighting over whatever girl was in the dad’s DMs to notice their two-year-old falling down the stairs. He broke his leg, and his parents were still arguing. I had to call the social worker, and she called family services. It sucked.”

You frown and gently squeeze his thigh. “Is that what kept you late?”

“No.” He shakes his head. “A motorcycle accident kept me late. Nothing too sad, but definitely gross.”

“Mm.” You focus back on the massage. “Hope that little boy’s okay.”

Jack hums softly and reaches out to tuck your hair behind your ear.

“I love you,” he says. “I love that you like talking to me.”

You smile and swallow the lump in your throat. “I love talking to you. You’re my favorite person.” You look down at your belly. “You’re about to get bumped to second place, though.”

Jack huffs quietly at that. “That’s okay. She’s the priority.”

Once it seems like the lotion has fully set in, you slip off the bed and pull something out of your nightstand drawer. You turn back toward Jack and cuddle up next to him.

“My ring?” he asks.

“Mhm.” 

You open the box, revealing the simple band that perfectly matches the band of your engagement ring.

“It’s perfect,” he mutters softly. “Can I try it on?”

You nod excitedly and take his hand and slip the ring on his fourth finger.

“Perfect fit,” you whisper. “Does it feel good?”

“Yeah, it’s great, sweetheart. I love it, you did good.”

He turns his head to peck your lips. Then he reaches into his nightstand, pulls out another ring box, and opens it.

“This is your wedding band. I got them as a set, so they go together. You like it?” he asks softly as he holds the ring out to you.

“I do,” you say, a big grin on your face. “Put it on me.”

You hold out your left hand. Jack removes your engagement ring, slides your wedding band into place, then puts the engagement ring back on.

“Yeah,” you sigh. “That’s great.”

You slip the wedding band off and hand it back to Jack, and he does the same for you.

The two of you turn out the lights, and Jack holds his arm out to you. Once you’re secure against his side, he kisses your forehead, one hand slipping under the covers to rub your belly, the first time all day.

“Fuck, I missed her,” he mumbles softly.

Those words bring the biggest smile to your face. Your daughter’s daddy missed her. She has a daddy that misses her when he goes to work. She’s the luckiest girl in the world, and she’s not even born yet.

“She hasn’t stopped kicking since you got home.”

“Daddy’s girl,” he mumbles tiredly.

//

Jack only worked an eight-hour shift today. It’s 3:45, and instead of going home, he’s sitting on the grass in front of Helene Abbot’s headstone.

“She said yes to my proposal,” he says softly. “Gonna do it tomorrow. We’re probably gonna have a proper wedding later. Tomorrow’s just legal. We wanted to be married before the baby comes, and she joked about getting to be an Abbot before the baby.”

He chuckles softly and wipes a tear.

“I never thought I’d be anyone else’s husband, Helene. I thought you were it. I thought I’d be lucky if I found a consistent booty call.” He cringes at himself for the joke. “Anyway, I just… I got lucky with you once; I figured you don’t get lucky twice, but here I am.”

Jack stares at the letters of his first wife’s name and sighs. He rubs the tears from his eyes and shakes his head.

“Not totally sure what’s appropriate to say here, but what’s important is that you know that I love you both. You were everything at one time, and now you’re gone, and I’m kinda jealous of you for that, but mostly because you don’t have to live through a second Trump administration.” Jack purses his lips. The stupid jokes are really on fire today. “I’m sorry. I never thought I’d ever have to do this. Um… I miss you, but I’m happy. I’m finally happy again, and I know that would make you happy, so… Yeah, next time we talk, I’ll be a married man again.”

He looks at the bouquet of flowers he brought and adjusts them in the pot.

“I hope you like this bouquet. There wasn’t a great selection this week.” He stands. “Bye. I’ll talk to you soon.”

//

You and Jack talked for hours last night. About his first marriage, how he’s coping, how excited the both of you are for what’s ahead, for the marriage that almost no one besides the two of you knows about, the imminent birth of your first child, everything she has in store for the two of you.

The two of you wake in the late morning. Your wedding is at 3:30. You have time to laze before you have to get ready.

To pass the time, Jack eats your pussy twice and makes sure you’re well fed in anticipation of consummating the wedding later tonight.

Despite your growing belly, you were able to fit into an old white dress you bought for a vacation last year. Is it the most comfortable? No, but you’ve called a friend who takes pictures for real estate and asked him to take your wedding photos, so you’d like to get as much of the full effect as possible.

Jack watches the entirety of Top Gun while he waits for you to get ready. When you come out just before it’s time to leave, his jaw is practically on the floor. Your makeup is perfect, your hair is styled flawlessly, and he’s in fucking awe of the woman before him, beautiful, full of his baby, and wearing his ring.

“You’re fucking stunning,” he says from his spot on the couch before he stands and puts his hands on your waist to pull you in for a kiss.

“You got my ring?” he asks against your lips.

You nod and pull it out of your purse. “Wanna put mine in there?”

He nods and drops it in next to his.

The drive to the courthouse is filled with anticipation. Jack’s hand on your thigh is warm and loving.

When you’re finally on the Grand Staircase in Allegheny Courthouse in front of Judge Daniels, you and Jack both can feel your heartbeats in your throat.

Your hands are joined as Judge Daniels delivers a few quick words. Then he looks at Jack.

“Do you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, for better or for worse, for richer or poorer, through sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, from this day forward until death do you part?”

Jack’s eyes fill with tears as he looks at you. He never thought the pretty neighbor who took her trash out at the same time he did every week would be his wife, but here he is, about to legally make you and that baby his, all because you really appreciated his medical advice. 

He nods and lets the tears fall because he could never be embarrassed about being moved by his love for you.

“I do,” he chokes out.

You swallow the lump in your throat and squeeze Jack’s hand before Judge Daniels turns to you.

“Do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, for better or for worse, for richer or poorer, through sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, from this day forward until death do you part?”

You nod and blink away your tears so you can see Jack clearly. You never want to forget how handsome he looks in this moment, and definitely not how much love you can see just in his eyes.

“I do,” you say softly.

Judge Daniels smiles. “Now for the exchanging of the rings.”

Jack had put the rings in his pocket for the ceremony. He takes yours out of his pocket and takes hold of your left hand.

“Alright, Jack, repeat after me,” Judge Daniels instructs. “With this ring, I thee wed, and pledge to you my love.”

Jack gently places your wedding band on your left ring finger as he says, “With this ring, I thee wed and pledge to you my love,” never looking away from you for even a second.

“Same thing,” Judge Daniels says to you with a smile as Jack hands you his ring. “With this ring, I thee wed, and pledge to you my love.”

You swallow the lump in your throat again and blink away more tears as you take Jack’s hand with your shaky one. 

“With this ring, I thee wed, and pledge to you my love,” you say as you place the ring on his finger.

Judge Daniels smiles at the two of you and says, “By the authority vested in me by the state of Pennsylvania, I now pronounce you husband and wife.”

The judge might say something more; you’re not sure, because Jack cups your jaw and kisses you with such passion, you can’t take in anything else besides the feel of your husband on your skin.

Your friend, Mikey, takes a few photos for you outside the courthouse, but Jack heard your stomach growl in the car before the ceremony even started, so he tries to Zelle Mikey the money plus tip, but Mikey only has Cashapp and Venmo, so Jack ends up shoving the two hundred dollar bills in his wallet in Mikey’s hand before whisking you off to the parking lot.

$200 made in less than ten minutes on his day off. Not a bad day for Mikey Diaz.

“What do you want to eat?” Jack asks as he opens the passenger side door for you. “Sit down? Takeout? Fast food?”

You sigh and think about it as he shuts the door and rounds the hood to get in the driver’s seat. He buckles and starts the car and looks at you.

“Kinda want Dairy Queen,” you say.

So Jack drives to Dairy Queen, and that’s your wedding dinner.

When you get home and kick your shoes off, you look over at Jack while he puts his keys in the catch-all bowl.

“Would it be weird if we filmed it? Our wedding night?” you ask. “At least the first round.”

Jack’s brows raise slightly. He never thought you’d want to film your wedding night, but as he really considers it, he thinks maybe it’d be nice to always remember your first time as husband and wife.

“On one of our phones?” he asks, one brow cocked in curiosity.

You shake your head. “I have a camcorder.”

The corner of his mouth quirks just slightly at that. “Okay.”

You smile and pull him closer by his belt loops. “Yeah?”

He nods and leans in for a kiss. You moan against him, and his hands grab at your ass. Just before he pulls away, he delivers a gentle slap to your ass.

“Mm. Okay, the camera’s in our closet,” you say breathily.

Jack follows you to the bedroom and watches from the threshold of the closet as you search a box for the camcorder.

You stand up straight and present the camera to him.

“Think I’m gonna break this in while you’re recovering,” he mutters before nibbling at your earlobe.

You scoff and gently smack his chest. “Your spank bank is getting too fucking big, baby.”

“Never too big,” he says, walking over to the bed. “It’s like my shrine to you and your perfect body.”

You snort and set the camera up on the dresser.

“Angle good?” he asks. “I want the whole bed to be in frame.”

“Jesus, what have you got planned for me?” you giggle as you adjust the camera.

“Nothing’s planned, per se,” he says. “Just wanna make sure we don’t miss a second of this.”

When you’re both happy with the camera angle, you press record and walk over to Jack.

He kisses you, one hand in your hair, the other gently pulling the skirt of your dress up.

You step back, and Jack slowly pulls the skirt of your dress up your legs, over your bump and breasts and over your head, leaving you in white lace panties.

“Look so cute, sweetheart,” he says, fingers toying with the lacey fabric.

You smile and bring your hands to his white button-up, eyes fixed on the rolled-up sleeves stretching across his thick forearms. You undo the buttons while Jack pulls his belt through the loops.

He drops the belt and shrugs the open shirt off.

“So strong,” you mumble, fingertips grazing his sculpted chest to his softer abdomen.

Your fingers fiddle with the button of his slacks, then pull the zipper down. You push the pants down and let them pull at his feet. 

Jack’s hands go to your breasts to gently squeeze, pulling a pornographic moan from your lips, which he wasn’t expecting this early, but he’ll roll with it.

You sit down on the edge of the bed and direct him to stand in between your legs. You pull him closer, and with this angle, his half-hard cock rubs against your gravid stomach through his boxers.

He lets out a whimper and flexes his hands by his sides. Where the fuck did you even get the idea to make him grind against your bump? However you came up with it is irrelevant because Jack’s growing harder at a speed he didn’t think he was capable of anymore.

“Fuck, I’m gonna miss this when it’s gone,” Jack says, panting as he looks down at you.

You smile and lean back a little to play with your nipples, which has Jack grunting and rutting against your stomach.

“So pretty, sweetheart,” he rasps.

He takes your left hand and kisses over your ring.

“My gorgeous wife,” he pants against your hand.

You beam up at him and scoot farther back on the bed.

“Want my husband to eat my pussy,” you purr.

Jack smiles and sits down on the bed to remove his prosthesis.

“I love you, Jack,” you sigh contentedly while you watch his fingers move.

“I love you, too, sweetheart.”

When it’s off, Jack helps you get propped up by the pillows, then lies on his stomach between your open legs. He presses an overly wet kiss to your soaking cunt through the lace of your panties, then hooks his fingers through them and pulls them down your legs, tossing them to the side.

Jack doesn’t waste time teasing you; he wants you to feel good as much as possible.

He licks a long stripe from your hole to your clit, then delivers concentrated circling licks to your clit while one finger teases your hole before it pushes inside.

“Jesus Christ, sweetheart, you’re already fucking soaked,” he mumbles into your cunt. 

“Mm, becoming a wife is a turn-on,” you sigh, your hands burying themselves in his hair.

He groans against you, and the sound reverberates through your entire body, causing your grip on his hair to tighten.

“So pretty,” he mumbles, licking up and down, side to side, just focusing on your clit like it’s all that matters.

“Fuck, I’m coming,” you mutter softly. 

“Good girl,” Jack mumbles, his finger moving in and out of you quicker, tongue moving quicker against your clit until he’s slurping up your arousal.

“Did so good,” he says, leaning over your bump to kiss you.

When he pulls away, he pushes his finger in your mouth to make you taste yourself. He gets a little greedy and fucks your mouth for a few seconds, pumping his finger in and out of your mouth, his heavy cock twitching in his boxers against your bump.

“Fuck,” he growls as he pulls away.

You reach out and pull at his boxers, and he pulls them off as fast as he can.

Once he’s fully nude, Jack lies down next to you and helps you turn on your side. He lies behind you, his back to your chest. Slowly, he inches inside of you, hands on your breasts, flicking your nipples while you get used to the stretch.

“You’re so beautiful,” Jack whispers in your ear. “So gorgeous, growing our baby. Such pretty eyes, sweetest laugh, brightest smile. I fucking love you, sweetheart.”

You whine softly and cover his hands on your breasts. 

“Love you, too, baby,” you whine softly.

He kisses the back of your neck and starts slowly grinding into you.

“Fuck, you’re all mine now,” he mumbles into your hair. “My gorgeous wife. Fuck, you feel so good, sweetheart.”

His hands knead softly at your swollen breasts, and his hips move slowly but with purpose. It’s possibly the most sensual experience you’ll ever have. 

“I’m so happy,” you say as Jack’s hand starts rubbing your clit. “I gave up on this; I never thought I’d have it.”

Jack leans over your body and kisses the corner of your lips.

“I know,” he whispers. “You deserve it, though. I love you so much. I wanna spend the rest of my life making you happy. You’re amazing, beautiful, intelligent, and confident. I love you. I’m in awe of you.”

You’re truly the most incredible woman in the world. You didn’t like your office job, so you got your real estate license, and after years of hard work, you have your ideal hours and make huge commissions. You wanted a baby, and you were done waiting, so you made it happen all on your own. You wanted sex, so you flirted with Jack, and that spiraled into this, and he couldn’t be happier.

You kiss him again and moan into him.

“You’re so sweet,” you whisper. “You take such good care of your family. You make me feel like an angel.”

Jack kisses your cheek and picks up the pace of his thrusts.

“You are an angel; you’re my angel. You and our girl. You’re both perfect,” he babbles in your ear.

A tear slips down your face, and you bring Jack’s left hand to your lips, the metal of his ring cold against your skin.

“I love you. You’re an incredible human being,” you sniff.

Jack kisses you again.

“You okay, sweetheart?” he asks softly.

You nod and smile over your shoulder. 

“You just make me so happy,” you explain. “You’re so good at fucking me, and cooking for me, and listening to me, and talking to me, and spending time with me, and touching me, and so sweet when you talk to the baby, and you fold her onesies just right, and you built all her furniture, and…”

You wipe your eyes and reach your hand behind you to bury a hand in Jack’s hair.

“You’re a fucking dream, and I’m hormonal,” you say.

Jack chuckles softly and kisses your shoulder. 

“Do you need to stop, or should I just make you come?” he asks.

“No, I need to come; I’m throbbing through the tears,” you say, laughing at yourself.

Jack chuckles into your hair and picks the pace back up.

“I’m gonna make my wife come on her husband’s cock,” he rasps in your ear, hands groping your body, from your breasts to your belly to your clit to your thighs. “That sound good, sweetheart?”

You moan and clench around Jack’s cock.

“Sounds perfect,” you practically slur.

His fingers move deftly against your clit, and it’s not long before you’re a moaning mess.

“Shit,” you gasp. “Fuck, Jack, I’m gonna come, fuck.”

You come with a shudder, gushing around his cock as he fucks you through it.

“There you go, sweetheart. Good girl, taking your husband’s cock, huh?” he coos in your ear. “Look so pretty when you come, even from behind.”

You let out a tired sigh, and Jack kisses your neck.

“Fill me up, Jack,” you mumble.

That’s all he needs to hear. He growls in your ear, and his cock starts pistoning in and out of you at an almost selfish pace, but you asked him to fill you up, so that’s what he’ll do.

With a choked moan, Jack’s fingers tighten on your body, and he shoots rope after rope of his cum inside of your fucked out cunt, eliciting tiny moans from the back of your throat.

He comes down, panting, his arms still secure around you. The camcorder is completely forgotten at this point. Right now, you’re just newlyweds on their wedding night, happy to be in each other’s embrace.

//

The next day, Jack calls his parents to tell them about the wedding. They’re ecstatic and ask again when the time will be right to visit and meet you and the baby.

Meanwhile, you have brunch with your mother the next day and explain the situation to her.

“We’ll have an actual proper wedding with everyone later, I promise,” you tell her.

You can tell she’s not happy, but she doesn’t say anything about it.

“As long as you’re happy, babybug,” she says, flashing you a tight smile.

//

The last few weeks of your otherwise amazing pregnancy can only be described as not fun.

The only remotely fun thing is that the paperwork you filed to change your last name to Abbot cleared quicker than you thought it would. 

However, it’s still hot out, you’ve finally started to notice Braxton-Hicks contractions, and the baby has decided to grow rapidly over the last few weeks. 

At 37 weeks, you officially start your indefinite maternity leave, but that leaves you bored and alone around the house half the time.

What’s worse is that you’ve stopped having sex. It’s not that you don’t want to; you’re just too big to sustain it anymore.

Jack still eats you out almost every day, and you’ve blown him here and there, but his cock hasn’t been inside your pussy in what feels like forever.

You spend most of your time cleaning the house so you stay busy, do laundry here and there, and prepare meals for the freezer for when the baby comes.

When you’re not being productive, you sit on the couch watching movies while you compile a list of baby names you think might suit the baby.

At 39 weeks and five days, Jack sends you off to get a mani-pedi, a prenatal massage, and to get your hair done, all with the card that says you’re an Abbot now. 

At your 40-week appointment, the doctor tells you you’re still only one centimeter dilated and 20% effaced.

You insist that Jack continues working even after you go overdue.

“You said it yourself: it’s perfectly normal to go overdue with your first baby, and it’s usually the case that your first labor and delivery is long, so you can go to work, and if it starts happening while you’re there, I’ll call you, and Al-Hashimi will cover for you until another doctor comes to cover the rest of your shift. We talked about this two months ago, Jack,” you remind him.

Jack chews on his bottom lip and stares at the floor when you finish speaking, clearly debating if arguing with you is even worth it. He could very easily call the hospital and claim he’s got the flu and go change out of these scrubs you practically forced him into.

“Jack, we’re about to spend two months together, every day, all day. As much as I love you, I’m going to get sick of you, so please go to work in the meantime,” you add.

He sighs, and you cup his face to pull him in for a kiss. 

“All you’ll do is sit here and worry about me. Go take your mind off me with some lacerations and concussions, yeah?”

He sighs again and pecks your lips two more times. 

“Yeah. Okay, sweetheart,” he agrees before bending at the waist to kiss your bump. “I love you,” he says as he straightens up.

“I love you, too. Now go make yourself useful,” you say, half-joking.

With one more kiss to your lips, Jack gathers his things and heads out the door.

hi! reminder that reblogs from those on a taglist are very much appreciated <333

All works taglist:  @person-005 @madpanda75 @tearsweetenedtea @canonisoptional @xoxoloverb @saralovesjoelmiller @youknowiloveyou-so

All Shawn Hatosy characters taglist: @realwhoreforfictionalmen  @ezmina98 @hehehehahahohohuhu @janeety @jennataurus @esmemia16 @rumoured-whispers

Jack Abbot taglist: @michasia24 @its--fandom--darling @staygoldsquatchling02 @starstruckl @overthyme24 @hoziersguitarr @thehockeynerd30 @louisbelongstome28

Doctor Google taglist: @itsmycorneroftheinternet @myhopefulcollectionqueenfan-blog @karleyyyjaeee @laughsandlivia @babyspiceeeeeeee @merlin-288 @cari87 @kidd3ath @saralovesjoelmiller @agamayayayaya @nyxmoretti @ubiquitous-corvids @bookluver14 @thehockeynerd30 @cafereads @sukunasnumberoneslut @imaginesnnerd @whatliesaheadmatters

p.s. if you would like to be removed from any taglist, just let me know! and if you would like to join a taglist or change your current preferences, click here! <3

[madpanda75]

Omg! Shhhhh my show is on!!!!

[dreamedaboutitinthedark]

AHHH I love thissss

tyyy for reading <3333

[dreamedaboutitinthedark]

Doctor Husband

Summary: After you get back from your babymoon, you and Jack elope. When you get home from the courthouse, you get the idea to film your wedding night.

Pairing: Jack Abbot x Pregnant!Reader

Content warnings: MDNI, pregnancy, Jack has some grief over his first wife and deals with it appropriately (it would do his character a disservice to not mention it in this chapter plus it's very brief), amputee care performed by reader bc she loves Jack bad, mention of neglectful parents (patients at the Pitt), anti-Trump comment, elopement, spanking, humping, smut, wedding night sex, filming sex, pregnant sex, praise kink, Jack "Talks You Through It" Abbot

Word count: 5,141

Series Masterlist | Read on ao3 here | dividers by @/lariesographic

Author's note: first of all: Pittsburgh/PA natives, if I screwed up how courthouse elopements are done, I apologize. (I kind of felt like Jack wouldn't want to go the self-uniting route so we didn't do that.) second, feel free to imagine the rings as any metal and any stone as I didn't describe them and the pictures are purely for aesthetics. finally, Baby Abbot is making her appearance in the next installment, which I am posting tomorrow!! one last thing, the 1k followers milestone is near, so if you would like to tell me what you want to see for that in the comments of this post or this one, I'll love you forever <333 anyways let's get these guys married ty for reading I hope you enjoy pls don't be shy to tell me your thoughts! <3 reminder that fanfic writers write for free and reblogs are ALSO free

EDIT: READ THIS POST BEFORE CONTINUING

The day after you get back, you and Jack head to the Allegheny County Clerk’s Office to apply for your marriage license. You came straight from your 36-week appointment, so you’re a little tired.

You yawn about seven times throughout the process, but Jack decides against teasing you over it. At the end of it, you’re reminded of the three-day waiting period before you’re able to have a ceremony.

Back at home, the two of you eat takeout on the couch, then watch The Sopranos while Jack rubs your feet.

Halfway through the episode, you look over at Jack.

“Babe, what do you want in a wife?” you ask softly, mostly joking.

He shrugs, eyes fixed on the screen. “Just want you to use my cards. That’s it.”

You snort softly. “That’s it?”

Jack sighs and thinks about it for a second. “Yeah. We’ll set up a joint bank account. If you want to, you can keep your own personal account if that’ll help you feel more secure, but, like, when you go get your hair done or do grocery or clothes shopping, I want you to use my card. I want to take care of you.”

You smile and move your feet out of his lap so you can kiss his cheek. “I love you so much it makes me sick.”

He snorts at that. “I’m not worth getting sick over.”

“Sure you are,” you purr in his ear, pressing a soft kiss to his earlobe after nibbling on it.

You lean your head against his shoulder for a while, content to just watch TV with your fiancé for the time being. Eventually, you lean back again and shove your feet back in Jack’s lap for him to rub. Dutifully, he gets the hint, and you look on your phone for wedding bands for Jack.

As much as you liked his black wedding band he had for Helene, you don’t want him to have the same one twice, and you’d like the metals to match.

// 

In the morning, Jack goes back to work. You have one showing in the late afternoon, so after your late breakfast, you head to the jewelry store you looked into online to buy Jack’s wedding band.

When you get there, you’re floored by the fact that a simple band can cost as much as $4,000. Lucky for you, the one you’ve picked is $800, but still.

“Shotgun wedding?” the cashier asks as she rings you up.

You choose not to dignify her with an answer and instead just stare at her as she packages the ring up, which only serves to make the cashier uncomfortable, which, in your opinion, is a good thing.

Jack doesn’t get home until 8:30 tonight. Something about a trauma going long or whatever, but what matters is that he is home, and you get to show him his ring.

He’s not in the best spirits when he gets home. You call his name from the kitchen, and his response isn’t all that enthusiastic.

You’ve got his plate of dinner in the microwave when you hear him shuffle into the kitchen and sit down at the island, brow pinched.

“You okay?” you ask softly.

He nods. “Just tired.”

He rests his head on his hands, both elbows on the counter.

When the microwave beeps, you take it out, quietly grab utensils from the drawer, and softly set the food down in front of him. You press a kiss to the back of his head, your fingers gently scratching over his shoulders through his scrub top.

Jack turns his head to kiss you, though with the angle of him sitting and how you’re leaning over him, he ends up kissing the side of your breast, his nose knocking into your armpit.

You chuckle softly and pat his back, then lean your head down to peck his lips.

“Got your ring today,” you say softly as you head over to the fridge to grab a beer.

“Oh, yeah?”

You nod and hand him the bottle.

“It’s simple, and it matches my ring,” you say, fiddling with your engagement ring. “It’s in the bedroom.”

He smiles, the bags under his eyes prominent while he eats.

“Can I do anything for you?” you ask softly.

Jack thinks about it, eyes fixed on the granite countertop. He’s probably too tired to ask for much, so you offer on your own.

“How about after your shower, I give you a massage and take care of all your leg stuff for you tonight?” you suggest, speaking softly.

His brow furrows slightly. “You’re 36 weeks pregnant; you shouldn’t be–”

You shake your head. “I feel good today; you don’t. You always take care of me, so I wanna take care of you tonight.”

He turns his head toward you and sees the sincerity in your expression, the love in your gaze.

“Okay,” he says softly.

You smile and tell him about your day while he finishes eating. When he’s done, you send him off to the shower and take care of his dishes for him. 

After the kitchen is cleaned up, you check that everything’s locked and turned off, and once that’s taken care of, you head to the bedroom.

You listen to the water turn off and unmake the bed, then grab Jack’s lotions and wait on the bed, one hand mindlessly following the baby’s kicks.

He comes out a few minutes later, curls damp, boxers on his hips, elbow crutch in one hand, the prosthesis in the other. He sits down next to you, setting the prosthesis on the floor, the crutch leaning against his nightstand.

“C’mere,” you mumble, patting the space closer to you.

He shuffles over, and you squirt some lotion into your palm. You rub it together in your palms, then begin applying it to his stump, massaging gently and inspecting the skin in the way you’ve been learning to from all the articles you’ve read lately.

“Feel okay?” you ask softly, looking at him momentarily.

“Mhm, you’re doing good,” he says, his voice a little hoarse.

You smile, feeling a little proud of yourself. 

Slowly, your hands work their way up to his thigh, not wanton, just completely focused on making sure his leg is drained of any soreness or lingering pain from wearing the prosthesis for nearly 14 hours.

“Did anything go particularly bad today?” you ask after a few minutes of silence.

Jack’s a talker, chatty. You don’t often see him quiet after work.

He shrugs. “This kid. His parents were too busy fighting over whatever girl was in the dad’s DMs to notice their two-year-old falling down the stairs. He broke his leg, and his parents were still arguing. I had to call the social worker, and she called family services. It sucked.”

You frown and gently squeeze his thigh. “Is that what kept you late?”

“No.” He shakes his head. “A motorcycle accident kept me late. Nothing too sad, but definitely gross.”

“Mm.” You focus back on the massage. “Hope that little boy’s okay.”

Jack hums softly and reaches out to tuck your hair behind your ear.

“I love you,” he says. “I love that you like talking to me.”

You smile and swallow the lump in your throat. “I love talking to you. You’re my favorite person.” You look down at your belly. “You’re about to get bumped to second place, though.”

Jack huffs quietly at that. “That’s okay. She’s the priority.”

Once it seems like the lotion has fully set in, you slip off the bed and pull something out of your nightstand drawer. You turn back toward Jack and cuddle up next to him.

“My ring?” he asks.

“Mhm.” 

You open the box, revealing the simple band that perfectly matches the band of your engagement ring.

“It’s perfect,” he mutters softly. “Can I try it on?”

You nod excitedly and take his hand and slip the ring on his fourth finger.

“Perfect fit,” you whisper. “Does it feel good?”

“Yeah, it’s great, sweetheart. I love it, you did good.”

He turns his head to peck your lips. Then he reaches into his nightstand, pulls out another ring box, and opens it.

“This is your wedding band. I got them as a set, so they go together. You like it?” he asks softly as he holds the ring out to you.

“I do,” you say, a big grin on your face. “Put it on me.”

You hold out your left hand. Jack removes your engagement ring, slides your wedding band into place, then puts the engagement ring back on.

“Yeah,” you sigh. “That’s great.”

You slip the wedding band off and hand it back to Jack, and he does the same for you.

The two of you turn out the lights, and Jack holds his arm out to you. Once you’re secure against his side, he kisses your forehead, one hand slipping under the covers to rub your belly, the first time all day.

“Fuck, I missed her,” he mumbles softly.

Those words bring the biggest smile to your face. Your daughter’s daddy missed her. She has a daddy that misses her when he goes to work. She’s the luckiest girl in the world, and she’s not even born yet.

“She hasn’t stopped kicking since you got home.”

“Daddy’s girl,” he mumbles tiredly.

//

Jack only worked an eight-hour shift today. It’s 3:45, and instead of going home, he’s sitting on the grass in front of Helene Abbot’s headstone.

“She said yes to my proposal,” he says softly. “Gonna do it tomorrow. We’re probably gonna have a proper wedding later. Tomorrow’s just legal. We wanted to be married before the baby comes, and she joked about getting to be an Abbot before the baby.”

He chuckles softly and wipes a tear.

“I never thought I’d be anyone else’s husband, Helene. I thought you were it. I thought I’d be lucky if I found a consistent booty call.” He cringes at himself for the joke. “Anyway, I just… I got lucky with you once; I figured you don’t get lucky twice, but here I am.”

Jack stares at the letters of his first wife’s name and sighs. He rubs the tears from his eyes and shakes his head.

“Not totally sure what’s appropriate to say here, but what’s important is that you know that I love you both. You were everything at one time, and now you’re gone, and I’m kinda jealous of you for that, but mostly because you don’t have to live through a second Trump administration.” Jack purses his lips. The stupid jokes are really on fire today. “I’m sorry. I never thought I’d ever have to do this. Um… I miss you, but I’m happy. I’m finally happy again, and I know that would make you happy, so… Yeah, next time we talk, I’ll be a married man again.”

He looks at the bouquet of flowers he brought and adjusts them in the pot.

“I hope you like this bouquet. There wasn’t a great selection this week.” He stands. “Bye. I’ll talk to you soon.”

//

You and Jack talked for hours last night. About his first marriage, how he’s coping, how excited the both of you are for what’s ahead, for the marriage that almost no one besides the two of you knows about, the imminent birth of your first child, everything she has in store for the two of you.

The two of you wake in the late morning. Your wedding is at 3:30. You have time to laze before you have to get ready.

To pass the time, Jack eats your pussy twice and makes sure you’re well fed in anticipation of consummating the wedding later tonight.

Despite your growing belly, you were able to fit into an old white dress you bought for a vacation last year. Is it the most comfortable? No, but you’ve called a friend who takes pictures for real estate and asked him to take your wedding photos, so you’d like to get as much of the full effect as possible.

Jack watches the entirety of Top Gun while he waits for you to get ready. When you come out just before it’s time to leave, his jaw is practically on the floor. Your makeup is perfect, your hair is styled flawlessly, and he’s in fucking awe of the woman before him, beautiful, full of his baby, and wearing his ring.

“You’re fucking stunning,” he says from his spot on the couch before he stands and puts his hands on your waist to pull you in for a kiss.

“You got my ring?” he asks against your lips.

You nod and pull it out of your purse. “Wanna put mine in there?”

He nods and drops it in next to his.

The drive to the courthouse is filled with anticipation. Jack’s hand on your thigh is warm and loving.

When you’re finally on the Grand Staircase in Allegheny Courthouse in front of Judge Daniels, you and Jack both can feel your heartbeats in your throat.

Your hands are joined as Judge Daniels delivers a few quick words. Then he looks at Jack.

“Do you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, for better or for worse, for richer or poorer, through sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, from this day forward until death do you part?”

Jack’s eyes fill with tears as he looks at you. He never thought the pretty neighbor who took her trash out at the same time he did every week would be his wife, but here he is, about to legally make you and that baby his, all because you really appreciated his medical advice. 

He nods and lets the tears fall because he could never be embarrassed about being moved by his love for you.

“I do,” he chokes out.

You swallow the lump in your throat and squeeze Jack’s hand before Judge Daniels turns to you.

“Do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, for better or for worse, for richer or poorer, through sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, from this day forward until death do you part?”

You nod and blink away your tears so you can see Jack clearly. You never want to forget how handsome he looks in this moment, and definitely not how much love you can see just in his eyes.

“I do,” you say softly.

Judge Daniels smiles. “Now for the exchanging of the rings.”

Jack had put the rings in his pocket for the ceremony. He takes yours out of his pocket and takes hold of your left hand.

“Alright, Jack, repeat after me,” Judge Daniels instructs. “With this ring, I thee wed, and pledge to you my love.”

Jack gently places your wedding band on your left ring finger as he says, “With this ring, I thee wed and pledge to you my love,” never looking away from you for even a second.

“Same thing,” Judge Daniels says to you with a smile as Jack hands you his ring. “With this ring, I thee wed, and pledge to you my love.”

You swallow the lump in your throat again and blink away more tears as you take Jack’s hand with your shaky one. 

“With this ring, I thee wed, and pledge to you my love,” you say as you place the ring on his finger.

Judge Daniels smiles at the two of you and says, “By the authority vested in me by the state of Pennsylvania, I now pronounce you husband and wife.”

The judge might say something more; you’re not sure, because Jack cups your jaw and kisses you with such passion, you can’t take in anything else besides the feel of your husband on your skin.

Your friend, Mikey, takes a few photos for you outside the courthouse, but Jack heard your stomach growl in the car before the ceremony even started, so he tries to Zelle Mikey the money plus tip, but Mikey only has Cashapp and Venmo, so Jack ends up shoving the two hundred dollar bills in his wallet in Mikey’s hand before whisking you off to the parking lot.

$200 made in less than ten minutes on his day off. Not a bad day for Mikey Diaz.

“What do you want to eat?” Jack asks as he opens the passenger side door for you. “Sit down? Takeout? Fast food?”

You sigh and think about it as he shuts the door and rounds the hood to get in the driver’s seat. He buckles and starts the car and looks at you.

“Kinda want Dairy Queen,” you say.

So Jack drives to Dairy Queen, and that’s your wedding dinner.

When you get home and kick your shoes off, you look over at Jack while he puts his keys in the catch-all bowl.

“Would it be weird if we filmed it? Our wedding night?” you ask. “At least the first round.”

Jack’s brows raise slightly. He never thought you’d want to film your wedding night, but as he really considers it, he thinks maybe it’d be nice to always remember your first time as husband and wife.

“On one of our phones?” he asks, one brow cocked in curiosity.

You shake your head. “I have a camcorder.”

The corner of his mouth quirks just slightly at that. “Okay.”

You smile and pull him closer by his belt loops. “Yeah?”

He nods and leans in for a kiss. You moan against him, and his hands grab at your ass. Just before he pulls away, he delivers a gentle slap to your ass.

“Mm. Okay, the camera’s in our closet,” you say breathily.

Jack follows you to the bedroom and watches from the threshold of the closet as you search a box for the camcorder.

You stand up straight and present the camera to him.

“Think I’m gonna break this in while you’re recovering,” he mutters before nibbling at your earlobe.

You scoff and gently smack his chest. “Your spank bank is getting too fucking big, baby.”

“Never too big,” he says, walking over to the bed. “It’s like my shrine to you and your perfect body.”

You snort and set the camera up on the dresser.

“Angle good?” he asks. “I want the whole bed to be in frame.”

“Jesus, what have you got planned for me?” you giggle as you adjust the camera.

“Nothing’s planned, per se,” he says. “Just wanna make sure we don’t miss a second of this.”

When you’re both happy with the camera angle, you press record and walk over to Jack.

He kisses you, one hand in your hair, the other gently pulling the skirt of your dress up.

You step back, and Jack slowly pulls the skirt of your dress up your legs, over your bump and breasts and over your head, leaving you in white lace panties.

“Look so cute, sweetheart,” he says, fingers toying with the lacey fabric.

You smile and bring your hands to his white button-up, eyes fixed on the rolled-up sleeves stretching across his thick forearms. You undo the buttons while Jack pulls his belt through the loops.

He drops the belt and shrugs the open shirt off.

“So strong,” you mumble, fingertips grazing his sculpted chest to his softer abdomen.

Your fingers fiddle with the button of his slacks, then pull the zipper down. You push the pants down and let them pull at his feet. 

Jack’s hands go to your breasts to gently squeeze, pulling a pornographic moan from your lips, which he wasn’t expecting this early, but he’ll roll with it.

You sit down on the edge of the bed and direct him to stand in between your legs. You pull him closer, and with this angle, his half-hard cock rubs against your gravid stomach through his boxers.

He lets out a whimper and flexes his hands by his sides. Where the fuck did you even get the idea to make him grind against your bump? However you came up with it is irrelevant because Jack’s growing harder at a speed he didn’t think he was capable of anymore.

“Fuck, I’m gonna miss this when it’s gone,” Jack says, panting as he looks down at you.

You smile and lean back a little to play with your nipples, which has Jack grunting and rutting against your stomach.

“So pretty, sweetheart,” he rasps.

He takes your left hand and kisses over your ring.

“My gorgeous wife,” he pants against your hand.

You beam up at him and scoot farther back on the bed.

“Want my husband to eat my pussy,” you purr.

Jack smiles and sits down on the bed to remove his prosthesis.

“I love you, Jack,” you sigh contentedly while you watch his fingers move.

“I love you, too, sweetheart.”

When it’s off, Jack helps you get propped up by the pillows, then lies on his stomach between your open legs. He presses an overly wet kiss to your soaking cunt through the lace of your panties, then hooks his fingers through them and pulls them down your legs, tossing them to the side.

Jack doesn’t waste time teasing you; he wants you to feel good as much as possible.

He licks a long stripe from your hole to your clit, then delivers concentrated circling licks to your clit while one finger teases your hole before it pushes inside.

“Jesus Christ, sweetheart, you’re already fucking soaked,” he mumbles into your cunt. 

“Mm, becoming a wife is a turn-on,” you sigh, your hands burying themselves in his hair.

He groans against you, and the sound reverberates through your entire body, causing your grip on his hair to tighten.

“So pretty,” he mumbles, licking up and down, side to side, just focusing on your clit like it’s all that matters.

“Fuck, I’m coming,” you mutter softly. 

“Good girl,” Jack mumbles, his finger moving in and out of you quicker, tongue moving quicker against your clit until he’s slurping up your arousal.

“Did so good,” he says, leaning over your bump to kiss you.

When he pulls away, he pushes his finger in your mouth to make you taste yourself. He gets a little greedy and fucks your mouth for a few seconds, pumping his finger in and out of your mouth, his heavy cock twitching in his boxers against your bump.

“Fuck,” he growls as he pulls away.

You reach out and pull at his boxers, and he pulls them off as fast as he can.

Once he’s fully nude, Jack lies down next to you and helps you turn on your side. He lies behind you, his back to your chest. Slowly, he inches inside of you, hands on your breasts, flicking your nipples while you get used to the stretch.

“You’re so beautiful,” Jack whispers in your ear. “So gorgeous, growing our baby. Such pretty eyes, sweetest laugh, brightest smile. I fucking love you, sweetheart.”

You whine softly and cover his hands on your breasts. 

“Love you, too, baby,” you whine softly.

He kisses the back of your neck and starts slowly grinding into you.

“Fuck, you’re all mine now,” he mumbles into your hair. “My gorgeous wife. Fuck, you feel so good, sweetheart.”

His hands knead softly at your swollen breasts, and his hips move slowly but with purpose. It’s possibly the most sensual experience you’ll ever have. 

“I’m so happy,” you say as Jack’s hand starts rubbing your clit. “I gave up on this; I never thought I’d have it.”

Jack leans over your body and kisses the corner of your lips.

“I know,” he whispers. “You deserve it, though. I love you so much. I wanna spend the rest of my life making you happy. You’re amazing, beautiful, intelligent, and confident. I love you. I’m in awe of you.”

You’re truly the most incredible woman in the world. You didn’t like your office job, so you got your real estate license, and after years of hard work, you have your ideal hours and make huge commissions. You wanted a baby, and you were done waiting, so you made it happen all on your own. You wanted sex, so you flirted with Jack, and that spiraled into this, and he couldn’t be happier.

You kiss him again and moan into him.

“You’re so sweet,” you whisper. “You take such good care of your family. You make me feel like an angel.”

Jack kisses your cheek and picks up the pace of his thrusts.

“You are an angel; you’re my angel. You and our girl. You’re both perfect,” he babbles in your ear.

A tear slips down your face, and you bring Jack’s left hand to your lips, the metal of his ring cold against your skin.

“I love you. You’re an incredible human being,” you sniff.

Jack kisses you again.

“You okay, sweetheart?” he asks softly.

You nod and smile over your shoulder. 

“You just make me so happy,” you explain. “You’re so good at fucking me, and cooking for me, and listening to me, and talking to me, and spending time with me, and touching me, and so sweet when you talk to the baby, and you fold her onesies just right, and you built all her furniture, and…”

You wipe your eyes and reach your hand behind you to bury a hand in Jack’s hair.

“You’re a fucking dream, and I’m hormonal,” you say.

Jack chuckles softly and kisses your shoulder. 

“Do you need to stop, or should I just make you come?” he asks.

“No, I need to come; I’m throbbing through the tears,” you say, laughing at yourself.

Jack chuckles into your hair and picks the pace back up.

“I’m gonna make my wife come on her husband’s cock,” he rasps in your ear, hands groping your body, from your breasts to your belly to your clit to your thighs. “That sound good, sweetheart?”

You moan and clench around Jack’s cock.

“Sounds perfect,” you practically slur.

His fingers move deftly against your clit, and it’s not long before you’re a moaning mess.

“Shit,” you gasp. “Fuck, Jack, I’m gonna come, fuck.”

You come with a shudder, gushing around his cock as he fucks you through it.

“There you go, sweetheart. Good girl, taking your husband’s cock, huh?” he coos in your ear. “Look so pretty when you come, even from behind.”

You let out a tired sigh, and Jack kisses your neck.

“Fill me up, Jack,” you mumble.

That’s all he needs to hear. He growls in your ear, and his cock starts pistoning in and out of you at an almost selfish pace, but you asked him to fill you up, so that’s what he’ll do.

With a choked moan, Jack’s fingers tighten on your body, and he shoots rope after rope of his cum inside of your fucked out cunt, eliciting tiny moans from the back of your throat.

He comes down, panting, his arms still secure around you. The camcorder is completely forgotten at this point. Right now, you’re just newlyweds on their wedding night, happy to be in each other’s embrace.

//

The next day, Jack calls his parents to tell them about the wedding. They’re ecstatic and ask again when the time will be right to visit and meet you and the baby.

Meanwhile, you have brunch with your mother the next day and explain the situation to her.

“We’ll have an actual proper wedding with everyone later, I promise,” you tell her.

You can tell she’s not happy, but she doesn’t say anything about it.

“As long as you’re happy, babybug,” she says, flashing you a tight smile.

//

The last few weeks of your otherwise amazing pregnancy can only be described as not fun.

The only remotely fun thing is that the paperwork you filed to change your last name to Abbot cleared quicker than you thought it would. 

However, it’s still hot out, you’ve finally started to notice Braxton-Hicks contractions, and the baby has decided to grow rapidly over the last few weeks. 

At 37 weeks, you officially start your indefinite maternity leave, but that leaves you bored and alone around the house half the time.

What’s worse is that you’ve stopped having sex. It’s not that you don’t want to; you’re just too big to sustain it anymore.

Jack still eats you out almost every day, and you’ve blown him here and there, but his cock hasn’t been inside your pussy in what feels like forever.

You spend most of your time cleaning the house so you stay busy, do laundry here and there, and prepare meals for the freezer for when the baby comes.

When you’re not being productive, you sit on the couch watching movies while you compile a list of baby names you think might suit the baby.

At 39 weeks and five days, Jack sends you off to get a mani-pedi, a prenatal massage, and to get your hair done, all with the card that says you’re an Abbot now. 

At your 40-week appointment, the doctor tells you you’re still only one centimeter dilated and 20% effaced.

You insist that Jack continues working even after you go overdue.

“You said it yourself: it’s perfectly normal to go overdue with your first baby, and it’s usually the case that your first labor and delivery is long, so you can go to work, and if it starts happening while you’re there, I’ll call you, and Al-Hashimi will cover for you until another doctor comes to cover the rest of your shift. We talked about this two months ago, Jack,” you remind him.

Jack chews on his bottom lip and stares at the floor when you finish speaking, clearly debating if arguing with you is even worth it. He could very easily call the hospital and claim he’s got the flu and go change out of these scrubs you practically forced him into.

“Jack, we’re about to spend two months together, every day, all day. As much as I love you, I’m going to get sick of you, so please go to work in the meantime,” you add.

He sighs, and you cup his face to pull him in for a kiss. 

“All you’ll do is sit here and worry about me. Go take your mind off me with some lacerations and concussions, yeah?”

He sighs again and pecks your lips two more times. 

“Yeah. Okay, sweetheart,” he agrees before bending at the waist to kiss your bump. “I love you,” he says as he straightens up.

“I love you, too. Now go make yourself useful,” you say, half-joking.

With one more kiss to your lips, Jack gathers his things and heads out the door.

hi! reminder that reblogs from those on a taglist are very much appreciated <333

All works taglist:  @person-005 @madpanda75 @tearsweetenedtea @canonisoptional @xoxoloverb @saralovesjoelmiller @youknowiloveyou-so

All Shawn Hatosy characters taglist: @realwhoreforfictionalmen  @ezmina98 @hehehehahahohohuhu @janeety @jennataurus @esmemia16 @rumoured-whispers

Jack Abbot taglist: @michasia24 @its--fandom--darling @staygoldsquatchling02 @starstruckl @overthyme24 @hoziersguitarr @thehockeynerd30 @louisbelongstome28

Doctor Google taglist: @itsmycorneroftheinternet @myhopefulcollectionqueenfan-blog @karleyyyjaeee @laughsandlivia @babyspiceeeeeeee @merlin-288 @cari87 @kidd3ath @saralovesjoelmiller @agamayayayaya @nyxmoretti @ubiquitous-corvids @bookluver14 @thehockeynerd30 @cafereads @sukunasnumberoneslut @imaginesnnerd @whatliesaheadmatters

p.s. if you would like to be removed from any taglist, just let me know! and if you would like to join a taglist or change your current preferences, click here! <3

[saralovesjoelmiller]

Just absolutely wonderful 💖

[dreamedaboutitinthedark]

why thank youuuuuu 😋😋😋

[dreamedaboutitinthedark]

Doctor Husband

Summary: After you get back from your babymoon, you and Jack elope. When you get home from the courthouse, you get the idea to film your wedding night.

Pairing: Jack Abbot x Pregnant!Reader

Content warnings: MDNI, pregnancy, Jack has some grief over his first wife and deals with it appropriately (it would do his character a disservice to not mention it in this chapter plus it's very brief), amputee care performed by reader bc she loves Jack bad, mention of neglectful parents (patients at the Pitt), anti-Trump comment, elopement, spanking, humping, smut, wedding night sex, filming sex, pregnant sex, praise kink, Jack "Talks You Through It" Abbot

Word count: 5,141

Series Masterlist | Read on ao3 here | dividers by @/lariesographic

Author's note: first of all: Pittsburgh/PA natives, if I screwed up how courthouse elopements are done, I apologize. (I kind of felt like Jack wouldn't want to go the self-uniting route so we didn't do that.) second, feel free to imagine the rings as any metal and any stone as I didn't describe them and the pictures are purely for aesthetics. finally, Baby Abbot is making her appearance in the next installment, which I am posting tomorrow!! one last thing, the 1k followers milestone is near, so if you would like to tell me what you want to see for that in the comments of this post or this one, I'll love you forever <333 anyways let's get these guys married ty for reading I hope you enjoy pls don't be shy to tell me your thoughts! <3 reminder that fanfic writers write for free and reblogs are ALSO free

EDIT: READ THIS POST BEFORE CONTINUING

The day after you get back, you and Jack head to the Allegheny County Clerk’s Office to apply for your marriage license. You came straight from your 36-week appointment, so you’re a little tired.

You yawn about seven times throughout the process, but Jack decides against teasing you over it. At the end of it, you’re reminded of the three-day waiting period before you’re able to have a ceremony.

Back at home, the two of you eat takeout on the couch, then watch The Sopranos while Jack rubs your feet.

Halfway through the episode, you look over at Jack.

“Babe, what do you want in a wife?” you ask softly, mostly joking.

He shrugs, eyes fixed on the screen. “Just want you to use my cards. That’s it.”

You snort softly. “That’s it?”

Jack sighs and thinks about it for a second. “Yeah. We’ll set up a joint bank account. If you want to, you can keep your own personal account if that’ll help you feel more secure, but, like, when you go get your hair done or do grocery or clothes shopping, I want you to use my card. I want to take care of you.”

You smile and move your feet out of his lap so you can kiss his cheek. “I love you so much it makes me sick.”

He snorts at that. “I’m not worth getting sick over.”

“Sure you are,” you purr in his ear, pressing a soft kiss to his earlobe after nibbling on it.

You lean your head against his shoulder for a while, content to just watch TV with your fiancé for the time being. Eventually, you lean back again and shove your feet back in Jack’s lap for him to rub. Dutifully, he gets the hint, and you look on your phone for wedding bands for Jack.

As much as you liked his black wedding band he had for Helene, you don’t want him to have the same one twice, and you’d like the metals to match.

// 

In the morning, Jack goes back to work. You have one showing in the late afternoon, so after your late breakfast, you head to the jewelry store you looked into online to buy Jack’s wedding band.

When you get there, you’re floored by the fact that a simple band can cost as much as $4,000. Lucky for you, the one you’ve picked is $800, but still.

“Shotgun wedding?” the cashier asks as she rings you up.

You choose not to dignify her with an answer and instead just stare at her as she packages the ring up, which only serves to make the cashier uncomfortable, which, in your opinion, is a good thing.

Jack doesn’t get home until 8:30 tonight. Something about a trauma going long or whatever, but what matters is that he is home, and you get to show him his ring.

He’s not in the best spirits when he gets home. You call his name from the kitchen, and his response isn’t all that enthusiastic.

You’ve got his plate of dinner in the microwave when you hear him shuffle into the kitchen and sit down at the island, brow pinched.

“You okay?” you ask softly.

He nods. “Just tired.”

He rests his head on his hands, both elbows on the counter.

When the microwave beeps, you take it out, quietly grab utensils from the drawer, and softly set the food down in front of him. You press a kiss to the back of his head, your fingers gently scratching over his shoulders through his scrub top.

Jack turns his head to kiss you, though with the angle of him sitting and how you’re leaning over him, he ends up kissing the side of your breast, his nose knocking into your armpit.

You chuckle softly and pat his back, then lean your head down to peck his lips.

“Got your ring today,” you say softly as you head over to the fridge to grab a beer.

“Oh, yeah?”

You nod and hand him the bottle.

“It’s simple, and it matches my ring,” you say, fiddling with your engagement ring. “It’s in the bedroom.”

He smiles, the bags under his eyes prominent while he eats.

“Can I do anything for you?” you ask softly.

Jack thinks about it, eyes fixed on the granite countertop. He’s probably too tired to ask for much, so you offer on your own.

“How about after your shower, I give you a massage and take care of all your leg stuff for you tonight?” you suggest, speaking softly.

His brow furrows slightly. “You’re 36 weeks pregnant; you shouldn’t be–”

You shake your head. “I feel good today; you don’t. You always take care of me, so I wanna take care of you tonight.”

He turns his head toward you and sees the sincerity in your expression, the love in your gaze.

“Okay,” he says softly.

You smile and tell him about your day while he finishes eating. When he’s done, you send him off to the shower and take care of his dishes for him. 

After the kitchen is cleaned up, you check that everything’s locked and turned off, and once that’s taken care of, you head to the bedroom.

You listen to the water turn off and unmake the bed, then grab Jack’s lotions and wait on the bed, one hand mindlessly following the baby’s kicks.

He comes out a few minutes later, curls damp, boxers on his hips, elbow crutch in one hand, the prosthesis in the other. He sits down next to you, setting the prosthesis on the floor, the crutch leaning against his nightstand.

“C’mere,” you mumble, patting the space closer to you.

He shuffles over, and you squirt some lotion into your palm. You rub it together in your palms, then begin applying it to his stump, massaging gently and inspecting the skin in the way you’ve been learning to from all the articles you’ve read lately.

“Feel okay?” you ask softly, looking at him momentarily.

“Mhm, you’re doing good,” he says, his voice a little hoarse.

You smile, feeling a little proud of yourself. 

Slowly, your hands work their way up to his thigh, not wanton, just completely focused on making sure his leg is drained of any soreness or lingering pain from wearing the prosthesis for nearly 14 hours.

“Did anything go particularly bad today?” you ask after a few minutes of silence.

Jack’s a talker, chatty. You don’t often see him quiet after work.

He shrugs. “This kid. His parents were too busy fighting over whatever girl was in the dad’s DMs to notice their two-year-old falling down the stairs. He broke his leg, and his parents were still arguing. I had to call the social worker, and she called family services. It sucked.”

You frown and gently squeeze his thigh. “Is that what kept you late?”

“No.” He shakes his head. “A motorcycle accident kept me late. Nothing too sad, but definitely gross.”

“Mm.” You focus back on the massage. “Hope that little boy’s okay.”

Jack hums softly and reaches out to tuck your hair behind your ear.

“I love you,” he says. “I love that you like talking to me.”

You smile and swallow the lump in your throat. “I love talking to you. You’re my favorite person.” You look down at your belly. “You’re about to get bumped to second place, though.”

Jack huffs quietly at that. “That’s okay. She’s the priority.”

Once it seems like the lotion has fully set in, you slip off the bed and pull something out of your nightstand drawer. You turn back toward Jack and cuddle up next to him.

“My ring?” he asks.

“Mhm.” 

You open the box, revealing the simple band that perfectly matches the band of your engagement ring.

“It’s perfect,” he mutters softly. “Can I try it on?”

You nod excitedly and take his hand and slip the ring on his fourth finger.

“Perfect fit,” you whisper. “Does it feel good?”

“Yeah, it’s great, sweetheart. I love it, you did good.”

He turns his head to peck your lips. Then he reaches into his nightstand, pulls out another ring box, and opens it.

“This is your wedding band. I got them as a set, so they go together. You like it?” he asks softly as he holds the ring out to you.

“I do,” you say, a big grin on your face. “Put it on me.”

You hold out your left hand. Jack removes your engagement ring, slides your wedding band into place, then puts the engagement ring back on.

“Yeah,” you sigh. “That’s great.”

You slip the wedding band off and hand it back to Jack, and he does the same for you.

The two of you turn out the lights, and Jack holds his arm out to you. Once you’re secure against his side, he kisses your forehead, one hand slipping under the covers to rub your belly, the first time all day.

“Fuck, I missed her,” he mumbles softly.

Those words bring the biggest smile to your face. Your daughter’s daddy missed her. She has a daddy that misses her when he goes to work. She’s the luckiest girl in the world, and she’s not even born yet.

“She hasn’t stopped kicking since you got home.”

“Daddy’s girl,” he mumbles tiredly.

//

Jack only worked an eight-hour shift today. It’s 3:45, and instead of going home, he’s sitting on the grass in front of Helene Abbot’s headstone.

“She said yes to my proposal,” he says softly. “Gonna do it tomorrow. We’re probably gonna have a proper wedding later. Tomorrow’s just legal. We wanted to be married before the baby comes, and she joked about getting to be an Abbot before the baby.”

He chuckles softly and wipes a tear.

“I never thought I’d be anyone else’s husband, Helene. I thought you were it. I thought I’d be lucky if I found a consistent booty call.” He cringes at himself for the joke. “Anyway, I just… I got lucky with you once; I figured you don’t get lucky twice, but here I am.”

Jack stares at the letters of his first wife’s name and sighs. He rubs the tears from his eyes and shakes his head.

“Not totally sure what’s appropriate to say here, but what’s important is that you know that I love you both. You were everything at one time, and now you’re gone, and I’m kinda jealous of you for that, but mostly because you don’t have to live through a second Trump administration.” Jack purses his lips. The stupid jokes are really on fire today. “I’m sorry. I never thought I’d ever have to do this. Um… I miss you, but I’m happy. I’m finally happy again, and I know that would make you happy, so… Yeah, next time we talk, I’ll be a married man again.”

He looks at the bouquet of flowers he brought and adjusts them in the pot.

“I hope you like this bouquet. There wasn’t a great selection this week.” He stands. “Bye. I’ll talk to you soon.”

//

You and Jack talked for hours last night. About his first marriage, how he’s coping, how excited the both of you are for what’s ahead, for the marriage that almost no one besides the two of you knows about, the imminent birth of your first child, everything she has in store for the two of you.

The two of you wake in the late morning. Your wedding is at 3:30. You have time to laze before you have to get ready.

To pass the time, Jack eats your pussy twice and makes sure you’re well fed in anticipation of consummating the wedding later tonight.

Despite your growing belly, you were able to fit into an old white dress you bought for a vacation last year. Is it the most comfortable? No, but you’ve called a friend who takes pictures for real estate and asked him to take your wedding photos, so you’d like to get as much of the full effect as possible.

Jack watches the entirety of Top Gun while he waits for you to get ready. When you come out just before it’s time to leave, his jaw is practically on the floor. Your makeup is perfect, your hair is styled flawlessly, and he’s in fucking awe of the woman before him, beautiful, full of his baby, and wearing his ring.

“You’re fucking stunning,” he says from his spot on the couch before he stands and puts his hands on your waist to pull you in for a kiss.

“You got my ring?” he asks against your lips.

You nod and pull it out of your purse. “Wanna put mine in there?”

He nods and drops it in next to his.

The drive to the courthouse is filled with anticipation. Jack’s hand on your thigh is warm and loving.

When you’re finally on the Grand Staircase in Allegheny Courthouse in front of Judge Daniels, you and Jack both can feel your heartbeats in your throat.

Your hands are joined as Judge Daniels delivers a few quick words. Then he looks at Jack.

“Do you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, for better or for worse, for richer or poorer, through sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, from this day forward until death do you part?”

Jack’s eyes fill with tears as he looks at you. He never thought the pretty neighbor who took her trash out at the same time he did every week would be his wife, but here he is, about to legally make you and that baby his, all because you really appreciated his medical advice. 

He nods and lets the tears fall because he could never be embarrassed about being moved by his love for you.

“I do,” he chokes out.

You swallow the lump in your throat and squeeze Jack’s hand before Judge Daniels turns to you.

“Do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, for better or for worse, for richer or poorer, through sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, from this day forward until death do you part?”

You nod and blink away your tears so you can see Jack clearly. You never want to forget how handsome he looks in this moment, and definitely not how much love you can see just in his eyes.

“I do,” you say softly.

Judge Daniels smiles. “Now for the exchanging of the rings.”

Jack had put the rings in his pocket for the ceremony. He takes yours out of his pocket and takes hold of your left hand.

“Alright, Jack, repeat after me,” Judge Daniels instructs. “With this ring, I thee wed, and pledge to you my love.”

Jack gently places your wedding band on your left ring finger as he says, “With this ring, I thee wed and pledge to you my love,” never looking away from you for even a second.

“Same thing,” Judge Daniels says to you with a smile as Jack hands you his ring. “With this ring, I thee wed, and pledge to you my love.”

You swallow the lump in your throat again and blink away more tears as you take Jack’s hand with your shaky one. 

“With this ring, I thee wed, and pledge to you my love,” you say as you place the ring on his finger.

Judge Daniels smiles at the two of you and says, “By the authority vested in me by the state of Pennsylvania, I now pronounce you husband and wife.”

The judge might say something more; you’re not sure, because Jack cups your jaw and kisses you with such passion, you can’t take in anything else besides the feel of your husband on your skin.

Your friend, Mikey, takes a few photos for you outside the courthouse, but Jack heard your stomach growl in the car before the ceremony even started, so he tries to Zelle Mikey the money plus tip, but Mikey only has Cashapp and Venmo, so Jack ends up shoving the two hundred dollar bills in his wallet in Mikey’s hand before whisking you off to the parking lot.

$200 made in less than ten minutes on his day off. Not a bad day for Mikey Diaz.

“What do you want to eat?” Jack asks as he opens the passenger side door for you. “Sit down? Takeout? Fast food?”

You sigh and think about it as he shuts the door and rounds the hood to get in the driver’s seat. He buckles and starts the car and looks at you.

“Kinda want Dairy Queen,” you say.

So Jack drives to Dairy Queen, and that’s your wedding dinner.

When you get home and kick your shoes off, you look over at Jack while he puts his keys in the catch-all bowl.

“Would it be weird if we filmed it? Our wedding night?” you ask. “At least the first round.”

Jack’s brows raise slightly. He never thought you’d want to film your wedding night, but as he really considers it, he thinks maybe it’d be nice to always remember your first time as husband and wife.

“On one of our phones?” he asks, one brow cocked in curiosity.

You shake your head. “I have a camcorder.”

The corner of his mouth quirks just slightly at that. “Okay.”

You smile and pull him closer by his belt loops. “Yeah?”

He nods and leans in for a kiss. You moan against him, and his hands grab at your ass. Just before he pulls away, he delivers a gentle slap to your ass.

“Mm. Okay, the camera’s in our closet,” you say breathily.

Jack follows you to the bedroom and watches from the threshold of the closet as you search a box for the camcorder.

You stand up straight and present the camera to him.

“Think I’m gonna break this in while you’re recovering,” he mutters before nibbling at your earlobe.

You scoff and gently smack his chest. “Your spank bank is getting too fucking big, baby.”

“Never too big,” he says, walking over to the bed. “It’s like my shrine to you and your perfect body.”

You snort and set the camera up on the dresser.

“Angle good?” he asks. “I want the whole bed to be in frame.”

“Jesus, what have you got planned for me?” you giggle as you adjust the camera.

“Nothing’s planned, per se,” he says. “Just wanna make sure we don’t miss a second of this.”

When you’re both happy with the camera angle, you press record and walk over to Jack.

He kisses you, one hand in your hair, the other gently pulling the skirt of your dress up.

You step back, and Jack slowly pulls the skirt of your dress up your legs, over your bump and breasts and over your head, leaving you in white lace panties.

“Look so cute, sweetheart,” he says, fingers toying with the lacey fabric.

You smile and bring your hands to his white button-up, eyes fixed on the rolled-up sleeves stretching across his thick forearms. You undo the buttons while Jack pulls his belt through the loops.

He drops the belt and shrugs the open shirt off.

“So strong,” you mumble, fingertips grazing his sculpted chest to his softer abdomen.

Your fingers fiddle with the button of his slacks, then pull the zipper down. You push the pants down and let them pull at his feet. 

Jack’s hands go to your breasts to gently squeeze, pulling a pornographic moan from your lips, which he wasn’t expecting this early, but he’ll roll with it.

You sit down on the edge of the bed and direct him to stand in between your legs. You pull him closer, and with this angle, his half-hard cock rubs against your gravid stomach through his boxers.

He lets out a whimper and flexes his hands by his sides. Where the fuck did you even get the idea to make him grind against your bump? However you came up with it is irrelevant because Jack’s growing harder at a speed he didn’t think he was capable of anymore.

“Fuck, I’m gonna miss this when it’s gone,” Jack says, panting as he looks down at you.

You smile and lean back a little to play with your nipples, which has Jack grunting and rutting against your stomach.

“So pretty, sweetheart,” he rasps.

He takes your left hand and kisses over your ring.

“My gorgeous wife,” he pants against your hand.

You beam up at him and scoot farther back on the bed.

“Want my husband to eat my pussy,” you purr.

Jack smiles and sits down on the bed to remove his prosthesis.

“I love you, Jack,” you sigh contentedly while you watch his fingers move.

“I love you, too, sweetheart.”

When it’s off, Jack helps you get propped up by the pillows, then lies on his stomach between your open legs. He presses an overly wet kiss to your soaking cunt through the lace of your panties, then hooks his fingers through them and pulls them down your legs, tossing them to the side.

Jack doesn’t waste time teasing you; he wants you to feel good as much as possible.

He licks a long stripe from your hole to your clit, then delivers concentrated circling licks to your clit while one finger teases your hole before it pushes inside.

“Jesus Christ, sweetheart, you’re already fucking soaked,” he mumbles into your cunt. 

“Mm, becoming a wife is a turn-on,” you sigh, your hands burying themselves in his hair.

He groans against you, and the sound reverberates through your entire body, causing your grip on his hair to tighten.

“So pretty,” he mumbles, licking up and down, side to side, just focusing on your clit like it’s all that matters.

“Fuck, I’m coming,” you mutter softly. 

“Good girl,” Jack mumbles, his finger moving in and out of you quicker, tongue moving quicker against your clit until he’s slurping up your arousal.

“Did so good,” he says, leaning over your bump to kiss you.

When he pulls away, he pushes his finger in your mouth to make you taste yourself. He gets a little greedy and fucks your mouth for a few seconds, pumping his finger in and out of your mouth, his heavy cock twitching in his boxers against your bump.

“Fuck,” he growls as he pulls away.

You reach out and pull at his boxers, and he pulls them off as fast as he can.

Once he’s fully nude, Jack lies down next to you and helps you turn on your side. He lies behind you, his back to your chest. Slowly, he inches inside of you, hands on your breasts, flicking your nipples while you get used to the stretch.

“You’re so beautiful,” Jack whispers in your ear. “So gorgeous, growing our baby. Such pretty eyes, sweetest laugh, brightest smile. I fucking love you, sweetheart.”

You whine softly and cover his hands on your breasts. 

“Love you, too, baby,” you whine softly.

He kisses the back of your neck and starts slowly grinding into you.

“Fuck, you’re all mine now,” he mumbles into your hair. “My gorgeous wife. Fuck, you feel so good, sweetheart.”

His hands knead softly at your swollen breasts, and his hips move slowly but with purpose. It’s possibly the most sensual experience you’ll ever have. 

“I’m so happy,” you say as Jack’s hand starts rubbing your clit. “I gave up on this; I never thought I’d have it.”

Jack leans over your body and kisses the corner of your lips.

“I know,” he whispers. “You deserve it, though. I love you so much. I wanna spend the rest of my life making you happy. You’re amazing, beautiful, intelligent, and confident. I love you. I’m in awe of you.”

You’re truly the most incredible woman in the world. You didn’t like your office job, so you got your real estate license, and after years of hard work, you have your ideal hours and make huge commissions. You wanted a baby, and you were done waiting, so you made it happen all on your own. You wanted sex, so you flirted with Jack, and that spiraled into this, and he couldn’t be happier.

You kiss him again and moan into him.

“You’re so sweet,” you whisper. “You take such good care of your family. You make me feel like an angel.”

Jack kisses your cheek and picks up the pace of his thrusts.

“You are an angel; you’re my angel. You and our girl. You’re both perfect,” he babbles in your ear.

A tear slips down your face, and you bring Jack’s left hand to your lips, the metal of his ring cold against your skin.

“I love you. You’re an incredible human being,” you sniff.

Jack kisses you again.

“You okay, sweetheart?” he asks softly.

You nod and smile over your shoulder. 

“You just make me so happy,” you explain. “You’re so good at fucking me, and cooking for me, and listening to me, and talking to me, and spending time with me, and touching me, and so sweet when you talk to the baby, and you fold her onesies just right, and you built all her furniture, and…”

You wipe your eyes and reach your hand behind you to bury a hand in Jack’s hair.

“You’re a fucking dream, and I’m hormonal,” you say.

Jack chuckles softly and kisses your shoulder. 

“Do you need to stop, or should I just make you come?” he asks.

“No, I need to come; I’m throbbing through the tears,” you say, laughing at yourself.

Jack chuckles into your hair and picks the pace back up.

“I’m gonna make my wife come on her husband’s cock,” he rasps in your ear, hands groping your body, from your breasts to your belly to your clit to your thighs. “That sound good, sweetheart?”

You moan and clench around Jack’s cock.

“Sounds perfect,” you practically slur.

His fingers move deftly against your clit, and it’s not long before you’re a moaning mess.

“Shit,” you gasp. “Fuck, Jack, I’m gonna come, fuck.”

You come with a shudder, gushing around his cock as he fucks you through it.

“There you go, sweetheart. Good girl, taking your husband’s cock, huh?” he coos in your ear. “Look so pretty when you come, even from behind.”

You let out a tired sigh, and Jack kisses your neck.

“Fill me up, Jack,” you mumble.

That’s all he needs to hear. He growls in your ear, and his cock starts pistoning in and out of you at an almost selfish pace, but you asked him to fill you up, so that’s what he’ll do.

With a choked moan, Jack’s fingers tighten on your body, and he shoots rope after rope of his cum inside of your fucked out cunt, eliciting tiny moans from the back of your throat.

He comes down, panting, his arms still secure around you. The camcorder is completely forgotten at this point. Right now, you’re just newlyweds on their wedding night, happy to be in each other’s embrace.

//

The next day, Jack calls his parents to tell them about the wedding. They’re ecstatic and ask again when the time will be right to visit and meet you and the baby.

Meanwhile, you have brunch with your mother the next day and explain the situation to her.

“We’ll have an actual proper wedding with everyone later, I promise,” you tell her.

You can tell she’s not happy, but she doesn’t say anything about it.

“As long as you’re happy, babybug,” she says, flashing you a tight smile.

//

The last few weeks of your otherwise amazing pregnancy can only be described as not fun.

The only remotely fun thing is that the paperwork you filed to change your last name to Abbot cleared quicker than you thought it would. 

However, it’s still hot out, you’ve finally started to notice Braxton-Hicks contractions, and the baby has decided to grow rapidly over the last few weeks. 

At 37 weeks, you officially start your indefinite maternity leave, but that leaves you bored and alone around the house half the time.

What’s worse is that you’ve stopped having sex. It’s not that you don’t want to; you’re just too big to sustain it anymore.

Jack still eats you out almost every day, and you’ve blown him here and there, but his cock hasn’t been inside your pussy in what feels like forever.

You spend most of your time cleaning the house so you stay busy, do laundry here and there, and prepare meals for the freezer for when the baby comes.

When you’re not being productive, you sit on the couch watching movies while you compile a list of baby names you think might suit the baby.

At 39 weeks and five days, Jack sends you off to get a mani-pedi, a prenatal massage, and to get your hair done, all with the card that says you’re an Abbot now. 

At your 40-week appointment, the doctor tells you you’re still only one centimeter dilated and 20% effaced.

You insist that Jack continues working even after you go overdue.

“You said it yourself: it’s perfectly normal to go overdue with your first baby, and it’s usually the case that your first labor and delivery is long, so you can go to work, and if it starts happening while you’re there, I’ll call you, and Al-Hashimi will cover for you until another doctor comes to cover the rest of your shift. We talked about this two months ago, Jack,” you remind him.

Jack chews on his bottom lip and stares at the floor when you finish speaking, clearly debating if arguing with you is even worth it. He could very easily call the hospital and claim he’s got the flu and go change out of these scrubs you practically forced him into.

“Jack, we’re about to spend two months together, every day, all day. As much as I love you, I’m going to get sick of you, so please go to work in the meantime,” you add.

He sighs, and you cup his face to pull him in for a kiss. 

“All you’ll do is sit here and worry about me. Go take your mind off me with some lacerations and concussions, yeah?”

He sighs again and pecks your lips two more times. 

“Yeah. Okay, sweetheart,” he agrees before bending at the waist to kiss your bump. “I love you,” he says as he straightens up.

“I love you, too. Now go make yourself useful,” you say, half-joking.

With one more kiss to your lips, Jack gathers his things and heads out the door.

hi! reminder that reblogs from those on a taglist are very much appreciated <333

All works taglist:  @person-005 @madpanda75 @tearsweetenedtea @canonisoptional @xoxoloverb @saralovesjoelmiller @youknowiloveyou-so

All Shawn Hatosy characters taglist: @realwhoreforfictionalmen  @ezmina98 @hehehehahahohohuhu @janeety @jennataurus @esmemia16 @rumoured-whispers

Jack Abbot taglist: @michasia24 @its--fandom--darling @staygoldsquatchling02 @starstruckl @overthyme24 @hoziersguitarr @thehockeynerd30 @louisbelongstome28

Doctor Google taglist: @itsmycorneroftheinternet @myhopefulcollectionqueenfan-blog @karleyyyjaeee @laughsandlivia @babyspiceeeeeeee @merlin-288 @cari87 @kidd3ath @saralovesjoelmiller @agamayayayaya @nyxmoretti @ubiquitous-corvids @bookluver14 @thehockeynerd30 @cafereads @sukunasnumberoneslut @imaginesnnerd @whatliesaheadmatters

p.s. if you would like to be removed from any taglist, just let me know! and if you would like to join a taglist or change your current preferences, click here! <3

[jennataurus]

this was so cute i NEED MORE OF THEM PLEASSSEEEE 😭😭

[dreamedaboutitinthedark]

more tomorrow!!!!!!!

tyyyy for reading and reflagging <333333

[dreamedaboutitinthedark]

Doctor Husband

Summary: After you get back from your babymoon, you and Jack elope. When you get home from the courthouse, you get the idea to film your wedding night.

Pairing: Jack Abbot x Pregnant!Reader

Content warnings: MDNI, pregnancy, Jack has some grief over his first wife and deals with it appropriately (it would do his character a disservice to not mention it in this chapter plus it's very brief), amputee care performed by reader bc she loves Jack bad, mention of neglectful parents (patients at the Pitt), anti-Trump comment, elopement, spanking, humping, smut, wedding night sex, filming sex, pregnant sex, praise kink, Jack "Talks You Through It" Abbot

Word count: 5,141

Series Masterlist | Read on ao3 here | dividers by @/lariesographic

Author's note: first of all: Pittsburgh/PA natives, if I screwed up how courthouse elopements are done, I apologize. (I kind of felt like Jack wouldn't want to go the self-uniting route so we didn't do that.) second, feel free to imagine the rings as any metal and any stone as I didn't describe them and the pictures are purely for aesthetics. finally, Baby Abbot is making her appearance in the next installment, which I am posting tomorrow!! one last thing, the 1k followers milestone is near, so if you would like to tell me what you want to see for that in the comments of this post or this one, I'll love you forever <333 anyways let's get these guys married ty for reading I hope you enjoy pls don't be shy to tell me your thoughts! <3 reminder that fanfic writers write for free and reblogs are ALSO free

EDIT: READ THIS POST BEFORE CONTINUING

The day after you get back, you and Jack head to the Allegheny County Clerk’s Office to apply for your marriage license. You came straight from your 36-week appointment, so you’re a little tired.

You yawn about seven times throughout the process, but Jack decides against teasing you over it. At the end of it, you’re reminded of the three-day waiting period before you’re able to have a ceremony.

Back at home, the two of you eat takeout on the couch, then watch The Sopranos while Jack rubs your feet.

Halfway through the episode, you look over at Jack.

“Babe, what do you want in a wife?” you ask softly, mostly joking.

He shrugs, eyes fixed on the screen. “Just want you to use my cards. That’s it.”

You snort softly. “That’s it?”

Jack sighs and thinks about it for a second. “Yeah. We’ll set up a joint bank account. If you want to, you can keep your own personal account if that’ll help you feel more secure, but, like, when you go get your hair done or do grocery or clothes shopping, I want you to use my card. I want to take care of you.”

You smile and move your feet out of his lap so you can kiss his cheek. “I love you so much it makes me sick.”

He snorts at that. “I’m not worth getting sick over.”

“Sure you are,” you purr in his ear, pressing a soft kiss to his earlobe after nibbling on it.

You lean your head against his shoulder for a while, content to just watch TV with your fiancé for the time being. Eventually, you lean back again and shove your feet back in Jack’s lap for him to rub. Dutifully, he gets the hint, and you look on your phone for wedding bands for Jack.

As much as you liked his black wedding band he had for Helene, you don’t want him to have the same one twice, and you’d like the metals to match.

// 

In the morning, Jack goes back to work. You have one showing in the late afternoon, so after your late breakfast, you head to the jewelry store you looked into online to buy Jack’s wedding band.

When you get there, you’re floored by the fact that a simple band can cost as much as $4,000. Lucky for you, the one you’ve picked is $800, but still.

“Shotgun wedding?” the cashier asks as she rings you up.

You choose not to dignify her with an answer and instead just stare at her as she packages the ring up, which only serves to make the cashier uncomfortable, which, in your opinion, is a good thing.

Jack doesn’t get home until 8:30 tonight. Something about a trauma going long or whatever, but what matters is that he is home, and you get to show him his ring.

He’s not in the best spirits when he gets home. You call his name from the kitchen, and his response isn’t all that enthusiastic.

You’ve got his plate of dinner in the microwave when you hear him shuffle into the kitchen and sit down at the island, brow pinched.

“You okay?” you ask softly.

He nods. “Just tired.”

He rests his head on his hands, both elbows on the counter.

When the microwave beeps, you take it out, quietly grab utensils from the drawer, and softly set the food down in front of him. You press a kiss to the back of his head, your fingers gently scratching over his shoulders through his scrub top.

Jack turns his head to kiss you, though with the angle of him sitting and how you’re leaning over him, he ends up kissing the side of your breast, his nose knocking into your armpit.

You chuckle softly and pat his back, then lean your head down to peck his lips.

“Got your ring today,” you say softly as you head over to the fridge to grab a beer.

“Oh, yeah?”

You nod and hand him the bottle.

“It’s simple, and it matches my ring,” you say, fiddling with your engagement ring. “It’s in the bedroom.”

He smiles, the bags under his eyes prominent while he eats.

“Can I do anything for you?” you ask softly.

Jack thinks about it, eyes fixed on the granite countertop. He’s probably too tired to ask for much, so you offer on your own.

“How about after your shower, I give you a massage and take care of all your leg stuff for you tonight?” you suggest, speaking softly.

His brow furrows slightly. “You’re 36 weeks pregnant; you shouldn’t be–”

You shake your head. “I feel good today; you don’t. You always take care of me, so I wanna take care of you tonight.”

He turns his head toward you and sees the sincerity in your expression, the love in your gaze.

“Okay,” he says softly.

You smile and tell him about your day while he finishes eating. When he’s done, you send him off to the shower and take care of his dishes for him. 

After the kitchen is cleaned up, you check that everything’s locked and turned off, and once that’s taken care of, you head to the bedroom.

You listen to the water turn off and unmake the bed, then grab Jack’s lotions and wait on the bed, one hand mindlessly following the baby’s kicks.

He comes out a few minutes later, curls damp, boxers on his hips, elbow crutch in one hand, the prosthesis in the other. He sits down next to you, setting the prosthesis on the floor, the crutch leaning against his nightstand.

“C’mere,” you mumble, patting the space closer to you.

He shuffles over, and you squirt some lotion into your palm. You rub it together in your palms, then begin applying it to his stump, massaging gently and inspecting the skin in the way you’ve been learning to from all the articles you’ve read lately.

“Feel okay?” you ask softly, looking at him momentarily.

“Mhm, you’re doing good,” he says, his voice a little hoarse.

You smile, feeling a little proud of yourself. 

Slowly, your hands work their way up to his thigh, not wanton, just completely focused on making sure his leg is drained of any soreness or lingering pain from wearing the prosthesis for nearly 14 hours.

“Did anything go particularly bad today?” you ask after a few minutes of silence.

Jack’s a talker, chatty. You don’t often see him quiet after work.

He shrugs. “This kid. His parents were too busy fighting over whatever girl was in the dad’s DMs to notice their two-year-old falling down the stairs. He broke his leg, and his parents were still arguing. I had to call the social worker, and she called family services. It sucked.”

You frown and gently squeeze his thigh. “Is that what kept you late?”

“No.” He shakes his head. “A motorcycle accident kept me late. Nothing too sad, but definitely gross.”

“Mm.” You focus back on the massage. “Hope that little boy’s okay.”

Jack hums softly and reaches out to tuck your hair behind your ear.

“I love you,” he says. “I love that you like talking to me.”

You smile and swallow the lump in your throat. “I love talking to you. You’re my favorite person.” You look down at your belly. “You’re about to get bumped to second place, though.”

Jack huffs quietly at that. “That’s okay. She’s the priority.”

Once it seems like the lotion has fully set in, you slip off the bed and pull something out of your nightstand drawer. You turn back toward Jack and cuddle up next to him.

“My ring?” he asks.

“Mhm.” 

You open the box, revealing the simple band that perfectly matches the band of your engagement ring.

“It’s perfect,” he mutters softly. “Can I try it on?”

You nod excitedly and take his hand and slip the ring on his fourth finger.

“Perfect fit,” you whisper. “Does it feel good?”

“Yeah, it’s great, sweetheart. I love it, you did good.”

He turns his head to peck your lips. Then he reaches into his nightstand, pulls out another ring box, and opens it.

“This is your wedding band. I got them as a set, so they go together. You like it?” he asks softly as he holds the ring out to you.

“I do,” you say, a big grin on your face. “Put it on me.”

You hold out your left hand. Jack removes your engagement ring, slides your wedding band into place, then puts the engagement ring back on.

“Yeah,” you sigh. “That’s great.”

You slip the wedding band off and hand it back to Jack, and he does the same for you.

The two of you turn out the lights, and Jack holds his arm out to you. Once you’re secure against his side, he kisses your forehead, one hand slipping under the covers to rub your belly, the first time all day.

“Fuck, I missed her,” he mumbles softly.

Those words bring the biggest smile to your face. Your daughter’s daddy missed her. She has a daddy that misses her when he goes to work. She’s the luckiest girl in the world, and she’s not even born yet.

“She hasn’t stopped kicking since you got home.”

“Daddy’s girl,” he mumbles tiredly.

//

Jack only worked an eight-hour shift today. It’s 3:45, and instead of going home, he’s sitting on the grass in front of Helene Abbot’s headstone.

“She said yes to my proposal,” he says softly. “Gonna do it tomorrow. We’re probably gonna have a proper wedding later. Tomorrow’s just legal. We wanted to be married before the baby comes, and she joked about getting to be an Abbot before the baby.”

He chuckles softly and wipes a tear.

“I never thought I’d be anyone else’s husband, Helene. I thought you were it. I thought I’d be lucky if I found a consistent booty call.” He cringes at himself for the joke. “Anyway, I just… I got lucky with you once; I figured you don’t get lucky twice, but here I am.”

Jack stares at the letters of his first wife’s name and sighs. He rubs the tears from his eyes and shakes his head.

“Not totally sure what’s appropriate to say here, but what’s important is that you know that I love you both. You were everything at one time, and now you’re gone, and I’m kinda jealous of you for that, but mostly because you don’t have to live through a second Trump administration.” Jack purses his lips. The stupid jokes are really on fire today. “I’m sorry. I never thought I’d ever have to do this. Um… I miss you, but I’m happy. I’m finally happy again, and I know that would make you happy, so… Yeah, next time we talk, I’ll be a married man again.”

He looks at the bouquet of flowers he brought and adjusts them in the pot.

“I hope you like this bouquet. There wasn’t a great selection this week.” He stands. “Bye. I’ll talk to you soon.”

//

You and Jack talked for hours last night. About his first marriage, how he’s coping, how excited the both of you are for what’s ahead, for the marriage that almost no one besides the two of you knows about, the imminent birth of your first child, everything she has in store for the two of you.

The two of you wake in the late morning. Your wedding is at 3:30. You have time to laze before you have to get ready.

To pass the time, Jack eats your pussy twice and makes sure you’re well fed in anticipation of consummating the wedding later tonight.

Despite your growing belly, you were able to fit into an old white dress you bought for a vacation last year. Is it the most comfortable? No, but you’ve called a friend who takes pictures for real estate and asked him to take your wedding photos, so you’d like to get as much of the full effect as possible.

Jack watches the entirety of Top Gun while he waits for you to get ready. When you come out just before it’s time to leave, his jaw is practically on the floor. Your makeup is perfect, your hair is styled flawlessly, and he’s in fucking awe of the woman before him, beautiful, full of his baby, and wearing his ring.

“You’re fucking stunning,” he says from his spot on the couch before he stands and puts his hands on your waist to pull you in for a kiss.

“You got my ring?” he asks against your lips.

You nod and pull it out of your purse. “Wanna put mine in there?”

He nods and drops it in next to his.

The drive to the courthouse is filled with anticipation. Jack’s hand on your thigh is warm and loving.

When you’re finally on the Grand Staircase in Allegheny Courthouse in front of Judge Daniels, you and Jack both can feel your heartbeats in your throat.

Your hands are joined as Judge Daniels delivers a few quick words. Then he looks at Jack.

“Do you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, for better or for worse, for richer or poorer, through sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, from this day forward until death do you part?”

Jack’s eyes fill with tears as he looks at you. He never thought the pretty neighbor who took her trash out at the same time he did every week would be his wife, but here he is, about to legally make you and that baby his, all because you really appreciated his medical advice. 

He nods and lets the tears fall because he could never be embarrassed about being moved by his love for you.

“I do,” he chokes out.

You swallow the lump in your throat and squeeze Jack’s hand before Judge Daniels turns to you.

“Do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, for better or for worse, for richer or poorer, through sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, from this day forward until death do you part?”

You nod and blink away your tears so you can see Jack clearly. You never want to forget how handsome he looks in this moment, and definitely not how much love you can see just in his eyes.

“I do,” you say softly.

Judge Daniels smiles. “Now for the exchanging of the rings.”

Jack had put the rings in his pocket for the ceremony. He takes yours out of his pocket and takes hold of your left hand.

“Alright, Jack, repeat after me,” Judge Daniels instructs. “With this ring, I thee wed, and pledge to you my love.”

Jack gently places your wedding band on your left ring finger as he says, “With this ring, I thee wed and pledge to you my love,” never looking away from you for even a second.

“Same thing,” Judge Daniels says to you with a smile as Jack hands you his ring. “With this ring, I thee wed, and pledge to you my love.”

You swallow the lump in your throat again and blink away more tears as you take Jack’s hand with your shaky one. 

“With this ring, I thee wed, and pledge to you my love,” you say as you place the ring on his finger.

Judge Daniels smiles at the two of you and says, “By the authority vested in me by the state of Pennsylvania, I now pronounce you husband and wife.”

The judge might say something more; you’re not sure, because Jack cups your jaw and kisses you with such passion, you can’t take in anything else besides the feel of your husband on your skin.

Your friend, Mikey, takes a few photos for you outside the courthouse, but Jack heard your stomach growl in the car before the ceremony even started, so he tries to Zelle Mikey the money plus tip, but Mikey only has Cashapp and Venmo, so Jack ends up shoving the two hundred dollar bills in his wallet in Mikey’s hand before whisking you off to the parking lot.

$200 made in less than ten minutes on his day off. Not a bad day for Mikey Diaz.

“What do you want to eat?” Jack asks as he opens the passenger side door for you. “Sit down? Takeout? Fast food?”

You sigh and think about it as he shuts the door and rounds the hood to get in the driver’s seat. He buckles and starts the car and looks at you.

“Kinda want Dairy Queen,” you say.

So Jack drives to Dairy Queen, and that’s your wedding dinner.

When you get home and kick your shoes off, you look over at Jack while he puts his keys in the catch-all bowl.

“Would it be weird if we filmed it? Our wedding night?” you ask. “At least the first round.”

Jack’s brows raise slightly. He never thought you’d want to film your wedding night, but as he really considers it, he thinks maybe it’d be nice to always remember your first time as husband and wife.

“On one of our phones?” he asks, one brow cocked in curiosity.

You shake your head. “I have a camcorder.”

The corner of his mouth quirks just slightly at that. “Okay.”

You smile and pull him closer by his belt loops. “Yeah?”

He nods and leans in for a kiss. You moan against him, and his hands grab at your ass. Just before he pulls away, he delivers a gentle slap to your ass.

“Mm. Okay, the camera’s in our closet,” you say breathily.

Jack follows you to the bedroom and watches from the threshold of the closet as you search a box for the camcorder.

You stand up straight and present the camera to him.

“Think I’m gonna break this in while you’re recovering,” he mutters before nibbling at your earlobe.

You scoff and gently smack his chest. “Your spank bank is getting too fucking big, baby.”

“Never too big,” he says, walking over to the bed. “It’s like my shrine to you and your perfect body.”

You snort and set the camera up on the dresser.

“Angle good?” he asks. “I want the whole bed to be in frame.”

“Jesus, what have you got planned for me?” you giggle as you adjust the camera.

“Nothing’s planned, per se,” he says. “Just wanna make sure we don’t miss a second of this.”

When you’re both happy with the camera angle, you press record and walk over to Jack.

He kisses you, one hand in your hair, the other gently pulling the skirt of your dress up.

You step back, and Jack slowly pulls the skirt of your dress up your legs, over your bump and breasts and over your head, leaving you in white lace panties.

“Look so cute, sweetheart,” he says, fingers toying with the lacey fabric.

You smile and bring your hands to his white button-up, eyes fixed on the rolled-up sleeves stretching across his thick forearms. You undo the buttons while Jack pulls his belt through the loops.

He drops the belt and shrugs the open shirt off.

“So strong,” you mumble, fingertips grazing his sculpted chest to his softer abdomen.

Your fingers fiddle with the button of his slacks, then pull the zipper down. You push the pants down and let them pull at his feet. 

Jack’s hands go to your breasts to gently squeeze, pulling a pornographic moan from your lips, which he wasn’t expecting this early, but he’ll roll with it.

You sit down on the edge of the bed and direct him to stand in between your legs. You pull him closer, and with this angle, his half-hard cock rubs against your gravid stomach through his boxers.

He lets out a whimper and flexes his hands by his sides. Where the fuck did you even get the idea to make him grind against your bump? However you came up with it is irrelevant because Jack’s growing harder at a speed he didn’t think he was capable of anymore.

“Fuck, I’m gonna miss this when it’s gone,” Jack says, panting as he looks down at you.

You smile and lean back a little to play with your nipples, which has Jack grunting and rutting against your stomach.

“So pretty, sweetheart,” he rasps.

He takes your left hand and kisses over your ring.

“My gorgeous wife,” he pants against your hand.

You beam up at him and scoot farther back on the bed.

“Want my husband to eat my pussy,” you purr.

Jack smiles and sits down on the bed to remove his prosthesis.

“I love you, Jack,” you sigh contentedly while you watch his fingers move.

“I love you, too, sweetheart.”

When it’s off, Jack helps you get propped up by the pillows, then lies on his stomach between your open legs. He presses an overly wet kiss to your soaking cunt through the lace of your panties, then hooks his fingers through them and pulls them down your legs, tossing them to the side.

Jack doesn’t waste time teasing you; he wants you to feel good as much as possible.

He licks a long stripe from your hole to your clit, then delivers concentrated circling licks to your clit while one finger teases your hole before it pushes inside.

“Jesus Christ, sweetheart, you’re already fucking soaked,” he mumbles into your cunt. 

“Mm, becoming a wife is a turn-on,” you sigh, your hands burying themselves in his hair.

He groans against you, and the sound reverberates through your entire body, causing your grip on his hair to tighten.

“So pretty,” he mumbles, licking up and down, side to side, just focusing on your clit like it’s all that matters.

“Fuck, I’m coming,” you mutter softly. 

“Good girl,” Jack mumbles, his finger moving in and out of you quicker, tongue moving quicker against your clit until he’s slurping up your arousal.

“Did so good,” he says, leaning over your bump to kiss you.

When he pulls away, he pushes his finger in your mouth to make you taste yourself. He gets a little greedy and fucks your mouth for a few seconds, pumping his finger in and out of your mouth, his heavy cock twitching in his boxers against your bump.

“Fuck,” he growls as he pulls away.

You reach out and pull at his boxers, and he pulls them off as fast as he can.

Once he’s fully nude, Jack lies down next to you and helps you turn on your side. He lies behind you, his back to your chest. Slowly, he inches inside of you, hands on your breasts, flicking your nipples while you get used to the stretch.

“You’re so beautiful,” Jack whispers in your ear. “So gorgeous, growing our baby. Such pretty eyes, sweetest laugh, brightest smile. I fucking love you, sweetheart.”

You whine softly and cover his hands on your breasts. 

“Love you, too, baby,” you whine softly.

He kisses the back of your neck and starts slowly grinding into you.

“Fuck, you’re all mine now,” he mumbles into your hair. “My gorgeous wife. Fuck, you feel so good, sweetheart.”

His hands knead softly at your swollen breasts, and his hips move slowly but with purpose. It’s possibly the most sensual experience you’ll ever have. 

“I’m so happy,” you say as Jack’s hand starts rubbing your clit. “I gave up on this; I never thought I’d have it.”

Jack leans over your body and kisses the corner of your lips.

“I know,” he whispers. “You deserve it, though. I love you so much. I wanna spend the rest of my life making you happy. You’re amazing, beautiful, intelligent, and confident. I love you. I’m in awe of you.”

You’re truly the most incredible woman in the world. You didn’t like your office job, so you got your real estate license, and after years of hard work, you have your ideal hours and make huge commissions. You wanted a baby, and you were done waiting, so you made it happen all on your own. You wanted sex, so you flirted with Jack, and that spiraled into this, and he couldn’t be happier.

You kiss him again and moan into him.

“You’re so sweet,” you whisper. “You take such good care of your family. You make me feel like an angel.”

Jack kisses your cheek and picks up the pace of his thrusts.

“You are an angel; you’re my angel. You and our girl. You’re both perfect,” he babbles in your ear.

A tear slips down your face, and you bring Jack’s left hand to your lips, the metal of his ring cold against your skin.

“I love you. You’re an incredible human being,” you sniff.

Jack kisses you again.

“You okay, sweetheart?” he asks softly.

You nod and smile over your shoulder. 

“You just make me so happy,” you explain. “You’re so good at fucking me, and cooking for me, and listening to me, and talking to me, and spending time with me, and touching me, and so sweet when you talk to the baby, and you fold her onesies just right, and you built all her furniture, and…”

You wipe your eyes and reach your hand behind you to bury a hand in Jack’s hair.

“You’re a fucking dream, and I’m hormonal,” you say.

Jack chuckles softly and kisses your shoulder. 

“Do you need to stop, or should I just make you come?” he asks.

“No, I need to come; I’m throbbing through the tears,” you say, laughing at yourself.

Jack chuckles into your hair and picks the pace back up.

“I’m gonna make my wife come on her husband’s cock,” he rasps in your ear, hands groping your body, from your breasts to your belly to your clit to your thighs. “That sound good, sweetheart?”

You moan and clench around Jack’s cock.

“Sounds perfect,” you practically slur.

His fingers move deftly against your clit, and it’s not long before you’re a moaning mess.

“Shit,” you gasp. “Fuck, Jack, I’m gonna come, fuck.”

You come with a shudder, gushing around his cock as he fucks you through it.

“There you go, sweetheart. Good girl, taking your husband’s cock, huh?” he coos in your ear. “Look so pretty when you come, even from behind.”

You let out a tired sigh, and Jack kisses your neck.

“Fill me up, Jack,” you mumble.

That’s all he needs to hear. He growls in your ear, and his cock starts pistoning in and out of you at an almost selfish pace, but you asked him to fill you up, so that’s what he’ll do.

With a choked moan, Jack’s fingers tighten on your body, and he shoots rope after rope of his cum inside of your fucked out cunt, eliciting tiny moans from the back of your throat.

He comes down, panting, his arms still secure around you. The camcorder is completely forgotten at this point. Right now, you’re just newlyweds on their wedding night, happy to be in each other’s embrace.

//

The next day, Jack calls his parents to tell them about the wedding. They’re ecstatic and ask again when the time will be right to visit and meet you and the baby.

Meanwhile, you have brunch with your mother the next day and explain the situation to her.

“We’ll have an actual proper wedding with everyone later, I promise,” you tell her.

You can tell she’s not happy, but she doesn’t say anything about it.

“As long as you’re happy, babybug,” she says, flashing you a tight smile.

//

The last few weeks of your otherwise amazing pregnancy can only be described as not fun.

The only remotely fun thing is that the paperwork you filed to change your last name to Abbot cleared quicker than you thought it would. 

However, it’s still hot out, you’ve finally started to notice Braxton-Hicks contractions, and the baby has decided to grow rapidly over the last few weeks. 

At 37 weeks, you officially start your indefinite maternity leave, but that leaves you bored and alone around the house half the time.

What’s worse is that you’ve stopped having sex. It’s not that you don’t want to; you’re just too big to sustain it anymore.

Jack still eats you out almost every day, and you’ve blown him here and there, but his cock hasn’t been inside your pussy in what feels like forever.

You spend most of your time cleaning the house so you stay busy, do laundry here and there, and prepare meals for the freezer for when the baby comes.

When you’re not being productive, you sit on the couch watching movies while you compile a list of baby names you think might suit the baby.

At 39 weeks and five days, Jack sends you off to get a mani-pedi, a prenatal massage, and to get your hair done, all with the card that says you’re an Abbot now. 

At your 40-week appointment, the doctor tells you you’re still only one centimeter dilated and 20% effaced.

You insist that Jack continues working even after you go overdue.

“You said it yourself: it’s perfectly normal to go overdue with your first baby, and it’s usually the case that your first labor and delivery is long, so you can go to work, and if it starts happening while you’re there, I’ll call you, and Al-Hashimi will cover for you until another doctor comes to cover the rest of your shift. We talked about this two months ago, Jack,” you remind him.

Jack chews on his bottom lip and stares at the floor when you finish speaking, clearly debating if arguing with you is even worth it. He could very easily call the hospital and claim he’s got the flu and go change out of these scrubs you practically forced him into.

“Jack, we’re about to spend two months together, every day, all day. As much as I love you, I’m going to get sick of you, so please go to work in the meantime,” you add.

He sighs, and you cup his face to pull him in for a kiss. 

“All you’ll do is sit here and worry about me. Go take your mind off me with some lacerations and concussions, yeah?”

He sighs again and pecks your lips two more times. 

“Yeah. Okay, sweetheart,” he agrees before bending at the waist to kiss your bump. “I love you,” he says as he straightens up.

“I love you, too. Now go make yourself useful,” you say, half-joking.

With one more kiss to your lips, Jack gathers his things and heads out the door.

hi! reminder that reblogs from those on a taglist are very much appreciated <333

All works taglist:  @person-005 @madpanda75 @tearsweetenedtea @canonisoptional @xoxoloverb @saralovesjoelmiller @youknowiloveyou-so

All Shawn Hatosy characters taglist: @realwhoreforfictionalmen  @ezmina98 @hehehehahahohohuhu @janeety @jennataurus @esmemia16 @rumoured-whispers

Jack Abbot taglist: @michasia24 @its--fandom--darling @staygoldsquatchling02 @starstruckl @overthyme24 @hoziersguitarr @thehockeynerd30 @louisbelongstome28

Doctor Google taglist: @itsmycorneroftheinternet @myhopefulcollectionqueenfan-blog @karleyyyjaeee @laughsandlivia @babyspiceeeeeeee @merlin-288 @cari87 @kidd3ath @saralovesjoelmiller @agamayayayaya @nyxmoretti @ubiquitous-corvids @bookluver14 @thehockeynerd30 @cafereads @sukunasnumberoneslut @imaginesnnerd @whatliesaheadmatters

p.s. if you would like to be removed from any taglist, just let me know! and if you would like to join a taglist or change your current preferences, click here! <3

[pabbot]

started my sunday so good omfg

[dreamedaboutitinthedark]

ahhh waking up to DILF!Abbot is a dream lol

tyyyy for reading!!!! <3333