I loved your pregnant!reader so much omg can I have more please 🙏
reader going into labor while she’s working during her 12 hour shift and not telling John cause he’d make her pack up and leave, and she wants to finish her shift so she makes Lena swear to not tell him
an: thank you!! it was so fun to write! if you want just more pregnant! reader x john (or any pitt cast) hcs lemme know. i hope this is alright <3
OOPS? J. Shen
You had told John you’d be fine. Why wouldn’t you be? Your last shift before maternity leave was supposed to go smoothly. The huge bump you carried around acting as a shield to usually rude patients. The nurses helping you around when your feet swelled. Everything was going fine. The odd contractions every now and then, but as you neared your due date that was expected.
That was until a patient had pointed out a liquid running down your leg. Causing your face to burn, wondering if you’d fucking wet yourself, or something. Before standing up, wobbling on your feet as you look down. That’s not pee. Eyes widening as you quickly excused yourself, going to the one person you trusted nearly as much as John, Lena.
As charge nurse for night shift, you trusted her like she was your mother. In some ways, she was. When she saw your stained clothes, Lena grinned. Congratulating you. To which you shook your head, having timed your contractions, you knew the baby was no where close to coming out now. Refusing to be one of those women stuck in a hospital room for hours, waiting.
Instead, you asked her to keep it quiet. To help you change. And to, most importantly, keep this information from John. To which she had raised an eyebrow, “Honey” she had muttered, shaking her head. But Lena knew better than to argue with a pregnant lady.
For the next hour, your soul mission was to ignore John. Which was partially difficult due to:
A) The fact that he was, well, your husband. Who ever since finding out you were pregnant, couldn’t keep his hands off of you and bump. Even before the bump was there. All grins as he excitedly spoke to your future bundle of joy. Making sure you and baby were always okay.
B) Contractions fucking hurt. You had to grip the walls, remove yourself from surgery and hide in the bathroom. Counting the time between.
But as the minutes begin to decline, you had begun to tell yourself it was all false. A trick of the mind. Perhaps if John knew, he would help. But if John knew, he’d make you stop working. And for crying out loud you could still work. Even if every step you took pained you.
It was perhaps your tenth grimace of the last half an hour that told John something was wrong. Before that he had wondered if he had put on that stupid cologne that you had hated during this pregnancy. But the moment he saw your light knuckles, John knew.
He noticed everything about you. From your coffee order to how you’d bite your lip when a waiter mispronounced your name. Everything in between. It’s what originally had scored him a date with you, picking up on those clues you so desperately had tried to hide. Now, he was picking up on these clues once more. Just, this time, getting ready to meet the life the two of you had created.
Walking over to your side, one had around your waist, allowing you to lean into him. All grins, because he loved your stubborn ass. Even if you’d tried to hide this from him. Because it was just so perfectly you.
“Come on, babe, let’s go have a baby.”
