I love writing and art, those are my two main hobbies besides singing. I love everything pop culture, movies, and TV shows! Some of my current interests include:
The Pitt, Animal Kingdom, Southland, The Last of Us, Steven Universe, Hozier, Ready or Not 2, and many many more :)
If you would like to read my works of all the sexy old men I love, take a look at. . .
My Writing Masterlist!!
Or if you would like to take a look at my artworks for the many fandoms I’m in, you can peek at. . .
My Artworks Masterlist!!
Or you can just look at all my other posts, mostly just rambles and shitposts and reblogs, like most tumblr accounts <3
I havent watched Southland in a long time I forgot how much I hate Tammi. What the hell is wrong with her, leaving that little girl alone like that. Poor Janella
I just got a pair of those shorts that look like men’s boxers, and they make me feel like I’m wearing a pair of Sammy Bryant’s boxers after I’ve had sex with him or just wearing them to walk around the house.
This is to showcase my artworks for some of my friends’ fics, or just art that I’ve posted on this blog :D
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The Last of Us:
Most of the artwork i have posted on this blog about The Last of Us revolves around the fan fiction, Terms & Conditions by the beautiful @followyourfleart !
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.
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Imagine Sammy Bryant being sad because you got a pixie/bixie cut.
You come home from the salon with a cute little short haircut. Smiling all wide and super happy with how it turned out. You like how it curls at the ends and the way your bangs sit on your face.
But Sammy is mourning. He’s mourning your long hair and how he could feel it and he could pull it and he could run his thick fingers through it.
“Why didn’t you tell me you cut your hair short?” He says, frowning like a child.
“I didn’t know I had to tell you what I do with my own hair.” You scoff, raising a brow.
He sighs. You’re right. Plus, you still do look good.
And he can still pull it when he folds you in half in bed.
