When Brendon usually wakes you up in the middle of the night it’s for sex, but since you pushed out a tiny being six weeks ago. When Brendon wakes you up it’s because said tiny being is crying.
“Hey, baby, wake up” He nudges softly, making you groan and roll over, “she’s hungry, my nipples are no use to her”
You stir, pushing yourself up, “give her”
Brendon passes her over once you’ve unbuttoned your shirt, cooing softly as she suckles against your breast, “you look so pretty”
You raise an eyebrow, a sleepy groan as you stare at him staring at you. Yawing as you rub your eyes, sleep pulling you back into sleep, “m so tired, I don’t know when I showered last” you murmur. Still rocking her slightly as she pulls off your nipple. Baby Edith opening her arms to her father as he sits back up to burp her.
It’s usually how the nights go, waking up at twelve to feed her. Letting Brendon burp and change her while you collapse again from exhaustion.
You move in patterns, coffee, breakfast, cuddling the baby as she sits in your lap. She moves in patterns, sleeping, eating, pooping, “she has your face when she sleeps” Brendon murmurs from the couch, her nose is scrunched, eyebrows wiggling softly as Brendon traces over her face with his thumb, “she’s beautiful”
You look up from the couch, a sight you want to remember forever. Your baby girl, tucked in her dad’s arms, sound asleep. Nose scrunched. Cooing softly, “she’s a happy baby”
Edith is a happy baby, she likes to go on walks, but only if Brendon carries her, and you like to shower with her. Not in the weird sense, you just like having her wrapped around you while you shower. Skin to skin, although mostly it’s just you standing in warm water as you wash her.
You’re deep in the newborn trenches, paternity leave over for Brendon. Caring for yourself and a newborn, in a house that’s barely moved into. Dana shows up at your door, you know her. Briefly during some hospital events with Brendon, “Dana! I’m so sorry- the house is a disaster”
She smiles, carrying bags of food and made meals, “oh honey I know! I’m here to bring you something to eat, be your little helper. Let you rest and snuggle that baby”
Your shoulders drop as you let her in, “really?” You think you’re hallucinating, that she’s a dream. A dream in jeans and a cardigan.
“Really, I know you and Shark just moved. But I got. Lasagna, chicken, enchiladas. Stuff to eat now, freeze” She sets things down on the marble counters, slowly unpacking and placing things into the empty fridge, “how are you doing?”
“I’m tired. I don’t know the last time I showered” You admit, “and my boobs are sore”
Dana laughs softly, “you poor thing, here. You wanna put her down for a nap? I can watch her. You go shower and sleep. Or I can set you up on the couch to pump change the sheets”
Your lip quivers, “she sleeps at.. one thirty usually, there’s breast milk in the fridge. Are you sure you can watch her?”
Dana nods, “I’ve raised three of em myself, if it’s okay with you”
You bring her in for a brief hug, apologizing when you realize how bad you smell.
You shower, wash your hair. Even contemplate a face mask, you indulge. You feel like a new woman when you step out, detangling your hair, moisturizing your legs and arms. When you come out, the bed is made with new sheets; and you can hear the washer running.
Edith is asleep in her downstairs crib, Dana is pulling something out of the oven, “hey honey, good shower?”
You nod, wordless at the state of your house. Clean, partially unpacked now fully unpacked, “yeah. You. Unpacked?”
Dana nods, “I kinda winged it, ‘m sorry I overstepped the boxes were just gettin to me. Is everything in the right place?”
You rifle through, and you can’t complain. Because it’s unpacked. And the baby is asleep, and dishes are washed. And something wonderful is cooking in the oven, “it’s. Dana thank you”
“Don’t mention it honey. I have chicken parm in the oven. I can make some pasta to go with it. Some greens. How’s your stomach?”
You nod, “greens would be great. If that’s not to much”
She prepares a salad, “I wish I had all of this after my first. Benji was great but. Having someone cook and clean and let you feel like a human again”
You nod, “I know we aren’t super close- I appreciate it.. I don’t. I have friends” you clarify, “they just.. live in North Carolina”
She nods, “I understand.” The timer dings and she pulls the chicken parm out. Sliding a cutlet onto your plate; with some salad. And when you hum she smiles in satisfaction, “good?”
“Heavenly, I’m serious Dana. Brendon can cook but this is. Phenomenal” You grin into a second bite, eyes closing in satisfaction.
Dana wipes the counter down before she leaves, and Brendon is surprised to see dinner when he comes home, you showered. Looking refreshed in a soft yellow sweatset, “you got busy” he comments, picking up Edith from your arms as he takes his shoes off
“I didn’t. Dana did” you grin, “she came over, I showered, did a face mask. And she made like a ton of food and we have enough leftovers to last us until she goes into college” You continue, “she even changed the sheets. And folded the laundry”
You’re beaming as Brendon rubs Edith’s back, “that sounds awesome honey, did you eat dinner yet?”
“No, do you wanna shower? I’ll warm something up?”
Brendon nods, “perfect,” he kisses your cheek before heading upstairs:
Brendon Park’s wife who can’t stop getting pregnant… you’re a nurse practitioner in the emergency department but has been in so rarely that when you come in after your latest maternity leave, the interns and even some of the residents don’t know who you are, or why all the staff love you?
“Why have we never met her? You all seem to love her,” Whitaker had asked Dana.
“She’s been on maternity leave since you were interns.”
“for two years?” he asked, confused “i’ve never seen her. ever.”
“she’s had three babies,” she expanded, “she’s got a 5 year old, 3 year old, and her one year old.”
Whitaker knew it might be a bit of a misogynist thought, and he was far from that, but what was the point in still working if you were constantly popping out babies? then again, Whitaker hadn’t known you before you were a mom, he’d blindly go off of Dana’s word about you. and he’d be too scared to not believe Dr Park when he’d (rarely) talk about his wife. “wow. three kids.” is all he could reply with.
it became a little bit of a joke amongst the emergency department staff, that you could just look at your husband and get pregnant, but Brendon didn’t like that joke. didn’t like how people said ‘you used to be blah de blah’ used to? if anything, his wife is 10x more capable than the average person. you were so much more than that, and yes, he loved his children and you so so much, he loved that you loved him enough to give him all of these babies.
and he knew it affected you, that when you were pregnant and still working, people would tease and joke but it would upset you; he changed socks as many times as you ran up to Orthopaedics and cried in his office. he couldn’t give a fuck what anyone else thought about him, but when it upset his wife? when they were insinuating that all she was good for was to give him babies and be some trad housewife? it fucked him off.
…and a year and a half later, you got pregnant again.
Pairing: Dr. Jack Abbot x girlfriend!reader
Warnings: none, pure fluff.
Summary: Your skin against his is exactly what Jack needs to wash away a brutal shift.
Disclaimer: This story is pure fiction and written solely for entertainment purposes.
The quiet of the apartment at seven in the morning was always a blessing after a hard shift. And today was monday. Meaning you didn't have to start your day early. Meaning Jack didn't have to crawl into a cold bed to crash alone; it meant he got you.
Jack walked into the bedroom. The blinds were drawn, keeping the room dark. And there you were, buried beneath a nest of blankets, completely dead to the world.
Sitting on bed, Jack set his prosthetic leg aside, rubbing the residual limb for a brief second and then quickly stripped off his clothes until he was just in his boxers.
The air in the room was cool, but as Jack slid under the duvet, he was instantly met with a radiating heat.
You stirred, letting out a sleepy mumble.
"Jack...?" you breathed, voice raspy with sleep.
"Hey, beautiful," he whispered. "Come here."
You instinctively shifted closer, seeking out his touch.
Jack kissed your cheek and wrapped his arms around you and pulled you flush against him.
You draped an arm over his bare chest, your forehead pressing right against his body.
He rested his chin on the top of your head, his hand slowly tracing the curve of your shoulder and then your back. His thumb brushed over your shoulder blade, feeling the rise and fall of your breathing.
"You're so warm," Jack murmured, his lips brushing against your hair as he smiled. "And so soft. All I need."
After that, his hand slid down to your thigh. His fingers gently squeezed your warm skin, a sigh escaping him as he pulled your leg up and draped it over his hip. He drew you even closer, tucking your body tightly against his, so there was absolutely no space left between you.
You let out a soft hum at the sudden closeness, your fingers lightly curling into his nape, intertwining them with his curls.
"Missed you, handsome," you mumbled sleepy into his neck.
"Missed you too, doll," he whispered back, feeling your body relax heavily against his, leaving caresses on your leg.
He closed his eyes, inhaling your scent and letting his mind completely relax.
With you wrapped securely in his arms, the stress of the shift faded.
Jack had a few precious hours before your alarm would finally go off, and he intended to spend every minute of them right here, holding you.
Jack Abbot who gets a text from pregnant!reader telling him that her water broke and her sister is driving her to the hospital. He does a sexy, cowboy like howl of excitement that startles a half asleep Santos, and exclaims to EVERYONE in the emergency room, “My baby’s having my baby!!!” And fucking yeehaws up to Labor and Delivery with the overnight bag he’s had ready in his work locker for over a month - the same place he keeps every ultrasound you’ve had throughout your pregnancy, taped on the inside door to look at when he needs hope during a rough shift 🥹
can be read alone or part as a series. PART ONE HERE. FLUFF!!!!!! jack crying. preg! reader. jack will love you and the baby 4ever. thank you to @you-go-too-slow-for-me for the idea of jack staying up and researching baby info lol.
“we’re having a baby?” his voice is barely above a whisper.
you nod again, already crying yourself.
he cups your face with both hands before resting his forehead against yours. “we’re having a baby,” he repeats, sounding completely awestruck.
after that moment of telling jack you are pregnant, life becomes one long planning session. your calendar fills with prenatal appointments. jack somehow finds every highly-rated obstetrician within fifty miles.
he starts reading pregnancy books during his lunch breaks. you catch him researching car seat safety at two in the morning. “jack.”
he doesn’t even look up from his laptop. “mhm?”
“i’m only eight weeks pregnant.” you tell him softly.
“i know.”
“why are you reading about toddler nutrition? you have over 80 items in the amazon basket already..”
“…planning ahead.”
you laugh. “you’re impossible.”
“i’m prepared.” he counter argues.
one evening, you’re both curled up on the couch, surrounded by baby name books.
jack has a notebook. of course he has a notebook. he’s ranking names. with categories.
“you made a spreadsheet.”
he doesn’t even look guilty. “there are a lot of options.”
you lean over his shoulder. “…you gave names numerical scores.”
“it’s objective.”
“love, you cannot objectively score a baby name.”
he circles one anyway. “i disagree.”
you steal his pen. he steals it back.
an hour later you’ve made absolutely no progress.
“do you want a boy or a girl?” you ask quietly.
jack pauses. he sets the notebook down. “healthy.”
“that’s not what i asked.”
he smiles softly. “i know.”
you wait. he sighs.
“…i’ll be happy with either.”
“jack.”
he looks away for a second before admitting, almost sheepishly “…i’ve always pictured a little girl.”
your heart melts. “a daddy’s girl?”
he smiles. “maybe.”
you reach over and lace your fingers through his. “i’ve always pictured you as a girl dad.”
he laughs quietly. “yeah?” he squeezes your hand. “i really don’t care.” his thumb brushes across your knuckles. “boy or girl… as long as they’re healthy.” he looks at you. “and as long as you’re okay.”
the first ultrasound comes quicker than either of you expects. you’re lying on the examination table while jack sits beside you, one hand wrapped tightly around yours.
for the first time since finding out, he looks nervous. really nervous. not doctor nervous. dad nervous.
the sonographer smiles. “ready?”
you both nod. cool gel spreads across your stomach. the room falls quiet. the screen flickers.
then— there.
tiny. so impossibly tiny. your baby.
you gasp. jack forgets to breathe.
“there’s your little one,” the sonographer says warmly.
you can feel jack’s grip tighten around your hand. he’s staring at the monitor like the rest of the world has ceased to exist. then the room fills with a sound. fast. steady. perfect.
your baby’s heartbeat.
for a second, neither of you says anything.
jack’s head drops. you glance over. he’s crying. completely, openly crying. his shoulders shake once as he laughs through it.
“…that’s…” he can’t finish the sentence.
you’ve never seen him speechless before.not once.
the sonographer quietly continues taking measurements, giving the two of you the space to take it all in.
jack finally leans over and presses a trembling kiss against your forehead. “thank you,” he whispers.
your eyes fill again. “for what?”
he rests one hand gently over yours on your stomach. “for giving me this.” his voice cracks. “i already love them.”
another heartbeat echoes through the room. fast. strong. real.
jack stares at the screen with the softest expression you’ve ever seen. then he looks at you.
“i’m going to love this baby for the rest of my life.” his hand finds yours again. “and i’m going to love you for even longer.”
you laugh through your tears. “that’s… literally impossible.”
he smiles, brushing his thumb across your knuckles. “then i’ll just have to spend every day proving it.”
and somewhere on the monitor, your tiny little baby gives the smallest wiggle. jack’s eyes immediately snap back to the screen. “…did you see that?”
you laugh. “i think they’re saying hi.”
he grins, tears still shining in his eyes. "hi, baby.” his voice is impossibly gentle. “daddy’s here.”
Summary: Your Vermont cabin babymoon is filled with sweet and emotional moments alike. From fucking at all hours of the night to wiping your tears in an emergency room, it's safe to say it's an unforgettable babymoon.
Pairing: Jack Abbot x Pregnant!Reader
Content warnings: MDNI, layout for the cabin I made up here, pregnancy, suggestive themes, implicit smut, fluff, pregnancy related scare (there is potential for complication, but they end up being okay; read end author's note if you don't want to be surprised), explicit smut, butterfly position (Jack loves pedicures and anklets) ((the distinction between that and a foot fetish is very important)), squirting
Word count: 5,358
Series Masterlist | Read on ao3 here | dividers by @/diviniyae
Author's note: hello friends!!!! big things happening as is obvious by the title and the banner today 👀 anyways Jack's love for pedicures and anklets stems from a thought I had that I posted about and chatted with sweet @llayla0 about so I decided to put it in here. like, this man is OBSESSED with his baby mama, head to toe, so this is kind of "duh" to me lol anyways I hope you enjoy! ty for reading!!! also a reminder that reblogs make you sexy like it's clinically proven
Once Jack secures a rental car, he puts all the luggage in the trunk and helps you into the passenger seat.
It’s nearly an hour drive from the airport to the cabin, but the grocery store he likes is 40 minutes from the airport.
“Get whatever you want,” Jack tells you when he grabs a shopping cart. “I don’t want to leave the cabin for anything if we can help it.”
You smile in response and end up spending nearly 45 minutes in the grocery store, meticulously perusing the aisles and making calculated decisions on what meals and snacks you want at the cabin.
When you finally arrive at the cabin, you’re in awe.
The cabin is surrounded by trees, the porch is huge, and a ways off, there’s a lake behind the house.
You turn to look at Jack as he kills the engine.
“What do you think? Tolerable?” he deadpans.
You smile and lean across the center console for a soft peck. “It’s beautiful.”
He smiles back and gets out of the car, rounding the hood to help you out.
His arms wrap around you, and he kisses you again, more passionately, quietly seeking entrance into your mouth, his fingers flexing against your waist.
“You taste minty,” he mutters as he pulls back. “That’s good gum.”
You smile and peck his lips.
“Can I try out that bathtub while you handle the bags?” you mumble against his lips.
“Yeah.” He takes a step back to give you room. “There’s bubble bath underneath the sink. I wanna see sudsy tits when I get in there.”
He hands you the house key, and you scoff. As you walk away, he slaps your ass, pulling a soft giggle from you.
Once you walk through the door, you’re met with the living room. To your right is a wall filled with all kinds of rustic-looking art pieces. To your left, and a little farther up, is what seems to be the bedroom.
When you open the door that was left ajar, you see a king-size bed in the middle of the room with a dark wooden headboard, matching nightstands on either side, and windows behind them. Across the bed, there’s a dresser with a small television on top. You set your purse and the keys down on the dresser just when Jack walks in with your checked bag and carry-on.
“Baby. Please go get your tits sudsy for me,” he whines jokingly.
“I’m going,” you laugh softly.
He heads back to the car to get the rest of the stuff, and you head into the bathroom to draw a bath.
While the water heats up, you look for the bubble bath. Once you’ve found it and poured a considerable amount in, you remove your clothes and step in.
As you sit back in the water, you notice the ways Jack has made the cabin accessible for himself. There’s a grab bar, and the sight of it makes you smile.
In the bedroom, Jack unpacks, moving both of your clothes into the dresser and storing the luggage in the closet. He sets out sweats and a plaid flannel for you, and a t-shirt and sweats for himself, then opens the bathroom door to join you in the bath, with crutches for after the bath set by the wall.
After he’s undressed and the prosthesis is removed, he holds on to the grab bar to lower himself behind you into the bath.
You sink into his chest and shut your eyes while his hands rest on your thighs.
“I like it here,” you say softly. “It’s like you have this whole mountain man side I didn’t know about.”
Jack smiles and kisses the back of your head.
“You feel okay?” he asks softly. “Flight wasn’t too rough on you?”
“Mm, it wasn’t too bad. I feel great right now,” you reply.
After the bath, you dress in the comfortable clothes Jack brought to the bathroom for you, and the two of you lie back on the bed while Jack turns the small television on, flipping through channels.
“I have a reminder set on my phone to figure out how to add streaming to this old man TV,” you say.
Jack laughs and pulls you into his side.
//
The second day doesn’t start until almost noon.
Pregnancy hormones plus the promise of five days spent alone in a cabin apparently equals waking Jack up for sex all three times you went to the bathroom last night, so sleep wasn’t the best for him.
Today’s the first real look you get at the living room. There’s a bigger TV out here and sliding doors that lead to the back porch overlooking the lake and the trees.
A few feet behind the couch is a small table with four chairs; then there’s the kitchen, slightly closed off.
It’s simple, but you see Jack everywhere. You see all the intention and effort put into the entire cabin, and it’s so him.
While Jack cooks eggs for your late breakfast, you lean against the counter beside the stove and stare at him.
“How often do you usually come out here?” you ask.
Jack shrugs. “The first year, I came a lot. I usually drove. Helene had been gone for a year, but I still didn’t like being in Pittsburgh alone. Being alone here was easier because she’d never been here. Anyway, the last two years, I’ve come up four times a year.”
You furrow your brow. “Who cleans it?”
He smiles. “I’ve got this cleaning service. They always send the same woman, Bea. I’ve got her number so she can send me pictures of when people trash the place, which isn’t often, but there was one time a couple came here for their honeymoon, I guess, and they left behind an entire box of sex toys.”
The laugh you let out at that has you clutching your side.
“Anyway, Bea sent me a picture of this monster dildo. Like, it was as thick as four of my dicks, and I did a Google image search, and it was called a ‘Creature Cock’.”
You slowly sink to a crouching position, laughing so hard now that you’re barely making any noise anymore.
“Creature Cock?” you ask between laughs, looking up at Jack.
He nods, smiling, and starts plating the food. “Yep. The thing had all these ridges and spikes. I can’t imagine what kind of person wants to use that, but to each their own.”
Jack holds his hand out and helps you stand up straight.
“After last night, I’m tempted to say you have a creature clit,” he says as he joins you at the table.
You smile around your fork and hold back another laugh.
After your food is eaten and cleaned up, you’re lounging on the large sectional sofa again, leaning into Jack with his left hand rubbing circles on your belly while he picks a movie to watch.
A few minutes into the movie, Jack gently taps your stomach to get your attention.
“What do you want for your push present?” he asks, completely serious, sounding almost concerned that he doesn’t yet know what you would like.
You let out a soft snort. “Jack, where did you learn what a push present is?”
He shrugs, and you turn your head to face him.
“One of the residents. Langdon. He comes up to me one day, and he’s like, ‘What are you getting your baby mama for her push present?’”
“Oh, so baby mama is sticking over in the Pitt?” you laugh.
“They latched onto it,” he mumbles, clearly a little bothered by the term.
Mostly because he plans on making you his wife as soon as possible.
“Well, either way, I actually hadn’t thought about it,” you reply. “Except, I’ll tell you right now, I don’t want jewelry with her name on it.”
Jack nods. “Yeah, but that’d also just be kind of hard to do since she still doesn’t have a name.”
You scoff. “I’m not the only picky party.”
“Excuse me for not wanting to name our daughter after the fucking seasons.”
It’s silent for a few minutes until something that should’ve clicked yesterday morning finally does as you look down at Jack’s hand on your stomach.
“Your ring,” you murmur, eyes widening as you turn your face towards him.
Jack turns his head to look at you.
“It’s safe,” he says softly.
Your eyebrows raise just slightly.
“I thought about it a lot,” he continues. “I took it off two nights ago. It’s in the keepsake box I have.”
“You’re sure about this?”
“I am.”
He sounds so confident.
You smile at him, your eyes watering, and not because of the pregnancy hormones, but because of how much love you hold for this man.
“I know the ring means a lot to you,” you mutter softly, the lump in your throat thick as can be. “It also means a lot to me that you took it off.” You sniffle and wipe your nose. “Not that I was excited about you taking it off and anticipating it, but I’m… I’m happy that you felt ready to take it off.”
Jack reaches out to wipe the tear rolling down your face. “Thank you for not making me feel any pressure about it. That means a lot to me, sweetheart.”
You smile and lean forward, your forehead resting against his.
“I love you,” you whisper, your voice cracking.
He presses his lips to yours. “I love you, too.”
The rest of the day moves slower. It was always going to be a slow day, but later, in bed, your naked body illuminated by the moonlight, every roll of your hips against his as you ride him feels intentional and heavy, like you’re trying to communicate how much he means to you, how much what he’s done for you and for your baby means to you.
Neither one of you has the words, so Jack does the same. He meets your thrusts with a specific passion that neither one of you can move past.
After both of you climax, he helps you off of him and props you up on all the pillows, spooning your back, his lips pressed to your neck, his hands in yours and on your bump.
His whole world is in the palm of his hands.
//
Day three is another slow day, though this morning is spent around the property. There’s a trail that extends behind the house, following the lake for about a mile. If you weren’t so pregnant, you’d fuck Jack in the dirt.
“When do you think we can take her back here?” you ask, one hand in Jack’s, the other rubbing your bump.
He shrugs. “Whenever we want to. I read this article the other day about not letting your kids stop you from doing the things you used to do. I don’t see why we can’t take her on trips as soon as we’re ready.”
You nod, taking his words in. “That’s a good point. Plus, she’ll be a worldly kid that way. That’s probably good for empathy and stuff.”
Jack chuckles softly and squeezes your hand. “Yeah, probably.”
A beat of silence, and then you ask, “What do we do for the holidays this year?”
He shrugs. “Whatever we want. You want to spend it with your family?”
This time, you shrug. “Maybe just Thanksgiving.”
“The holidays are far off anyway,” he reminds you.
“Yeah, but her due date’s September third, and before you know it, it’ll be Halloween, then Thanksgiving, then Christmas.” You shake your head. “I can just picture my mom asking us to come over for the months of November and December.”
“We could do Christmas with just the three of us. Plus, she’ll only be two, three months old. We can just tell people we don’t want germs around her,” he points out. “Or we could go see my parents.”
You stop walking and gasp, which, with how late you are in your pregnancy, probably isn’t the best default reaction here.
Jack’s face drops as he turns his body towards you. “What is it?”
“Oh, nothing, sorry. I just realized I haven’t met your parents.”
You start walking again, Jack following, hand still in yours, his heart rate slowing down after your gasp just about knocked the wind out of him.
“Yeah, my mom mentioned that last time I called her,” he says. “I said I’d talk to you about them coming to meet you and the baby.”
You’re silent for a moment as you think about that. His parents are in their mid-seventies. Would they be welcoming to the woman who got their son to be the father to her sperm donor baby? If you were in their shoes, you think you might judge you. It doesn’t really look good from the outside sometimes.
“They want to meet the baby?”
Jack smiles and squeezes your hand. “And you.”
You purse your lips. “They live in South Carolina, right?’
He nods. “Yeah, Charleston.”
You sigh and look straight ahead for a few seconds.
“Y’know, surprisingly, they’re lifelong Democrats,” he says, an edge of both humor and concern in his tone.
You chuckle softly and shake your head. “That wasn’t… I guess that’s good to know, but I just feel like they’re not gonna like me.”
“They’ll like you,” Jack says, like the idea of the opposite happening is ludicrous.
//
After you get back from the walk, you turn on another movie. You relax on the couch while Jack puts together lunch.
The movie finishes, and halfway through the second one, you realize the baby hasn’t moved since the halfway point of your walk.
That was three hours ago. She could just be sleeping, right?
Jack’s half asleep next to you, barely watching the movie with half-lidded eyes.
You sigh and press against the baby’s favorite kicking spot.
Nothing.
Gently, you lean over and kiss Jack’s cheek, brow furrowed.
“She hasn’t moved,” you whisper against his skin.
Jack’s eyes widen as he turns his head toward you. “How long?”
You sigh. “Three hours, I think.”
Supposedly, if your baby moves ten times within a two-hour period, you’re good. Their sleeping cycles are about 90 minutes. Three hours without movement is cause for concern.
Jack slowly scoots away and puts his prosthesis back on.
“You lie on your left side,” he tells you as he rolls his pant leg down. “I’m gonna get you a cold juice from the fridge, which should hopefully encourage movement. While I do that, you call your OB. I’m pretty sure she’ll say to go to a hospital, but you should ask her.”
“Okay,” you mutter softly, tears filling your eyes.
He gently cradles your face and kisses you softly.
“It’s probably nothing,” he whispers. “She’s probably worn out from the walk.”
Not really how that works, but he’ll say anything to comfort you.
Calmly, he helps you lie on your left side to get blood flowing, then hands you your phone so you can call your doctor.
In the kitchen, Jack throws some ice in a glass and pours in some apple juice while listening to you explain the situation to your OB over the phone.
Fuck, he might do a fellowship in women’s health before your next pregnancy just so he has a better idea of what to do here.
When he rejoins you in the living room, you’re hanging up the phone.
“Hospital?” he asks softly as he hands you the glass.
You nod and take a sip from the glass. “It could be nothing, right?”
“Yeah, sweetheart.” Jack nods and brings his hand to your bump, gently pressing against your belly, hoping to rouse the baby.
Nothing.
“Hopefully she’s just being stubborn,” he says.
After you finish your drink, Jack helps you to the car and drives to the nearest hospital.
He spends the entire drive with one hand in yours, eyes fixed on the road. He’s heard the occasional sniffle, and he can’t bear to look at you in this state while he’s driving.
When he parks, he reaches over the console and gently pulls your face toward him.
“Whatever’s going on, it’s gonna be okay. I’m here for you. They’re probably gonna do a urinalysis, check your BP, do a non-stress test. That’s where they put a bunch of monitors on your belly to listen to her heart. I’ve done a bunch of them. 99% of the time, it’s fine. I’m sure you’re not the 1%,” he says softly as he wipes your tears. “Still no movement?”
You shake your head.
Jack frowns and unbuckles your seatbelt, then gets out of the car and rounds the hood to help you out.
The E.R. isn’t even half as busy as the Pitt is on a slow day. You get taken to triage quickly, then are sent for a urinalysis. When you come back, the nurse is ready to set up for the NST.
“Alright, her heart rate is consistent,” the nurse remarks once the elastic belts are in place. She hands you a clicker. “You click this every time you feel her move. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
Then you’re left alone with Jack. He has a warm hand on your thigh, comforting and reassuring.
“Her heart sounds good,” he whispers softly.
You nod, eyes fixed on your belly like you can will her to move.
“She’s ruining the babymoon,” you mumble softly, clearly joking but also clearly nervous.
Jack sighs and gives your thigh a reassuring squeeze.
“Will you still love us if something’s wrong with her?” you whisper, your voice hoarse.
Jack’s brows raise.
“Sweetheart, of course. Why would you even think that?” he asks, a little offended but also very concerned.
You shrug your shoulders, trying to keep your tears at bay. “I don’t know. I’m just scared. I’m sorry, that was a shitty thing to say.”
He leans forward to wipe your tears and press a chaste kiss to your lips. “I’m here for you both. I love you both. Even if something’s wrong with her, I still want her, and I still want you. Nothing could make me love either of you any less. I promise.”
You sniff and nod slowly.
“I’m just scared,” you murmur, your voice hoarse.
Jack gently rubs his thumbs back and forth across your cheek.
“I am, too,” he whispers. “But I’m here, I promise. I’m not going anywhere. You’ve got me, and I’ll be strong for you. Cry all you want and be scared. I got you, sweetheart.”
You let out a soft sniff and press your lips to his.
“I love you,” you whisper.
“I love you, too.” He looks down at your bump and caresses the taut skin, being careful not to disrupt the monitors. “Can you do a kick for Daddy, baby girl? Huh?”
You stare at his hand, hoping she’ll make even the tiniest movement for her dad.
Jack stares, too, on high alert for even the tiniest movement.
Just as you look away, you feel it. A tiny kick.
“Fuck,” you whisper, your voice cracking.
You click the clicker, and Jack leans forward to kiss the spot the baby kicked.
“That’s my girl,” he mutters against your skin. “Do another one, sleepyhead. Show Daddy how strong you’re getting in there from all the steak I’ve been cooking this week.”
You and Jack go silent, waiting, and just when you think it was a fluke, she delivers a stronger kick.
Jack sighs, relieved, tears welling in his eyes. He kisses your bump again and whispers, “Daddy’s so proud of you, baby girl. You’re doing so good in there, growing big and strong. Just keep it up for Mommy and Daddy. You had us scared for a minute there. Just keep kicking.”
He looks up at you and cups the back of your head with a gentle hand to kiss your forehead.
“She’s okay. She was just tired. We’ve been lazy all week, and she thinks she can slack off on the kicking,” he murmurs against your skin.
You chuckle softly and wipe your eyes.
“She loves your voice,” you whisper, bringing a hand to his stubbly cheek.
Jack leans into your touch and smiles softly.
“I love you,” he whispers.
“I love you, too.”
By the time you’re released from the hospital, it’s dark. Jack takes you to a taco place in town just so the spice keeps the baby moving.
In bed, he holds you close after he props your body up with pillows. He presses his warm chest to your back, your skin soft against his. He has his right arm underneath your neck, holding your outstretched right hand, and his left hand cups your belly, following the baby’s movements.
He kisses the back of your neck.
“Would you be happy if I proposed to you sometime soon?” he asks softly, his voice slightly muffled by your hair.
Your eyes widen, fixed on a print of a canyon on the wall. You didn’t often spend time thinking about whether or not Jack wanted to marry you. You were honestly content with just being his partner. Plus, it’s kind of hard to let anything besides the baby take up space in your head while you plan for the future.
Still, you love Jack with all your heart. You love him so much it hurts. He made it clear today that he’s sticking around no matter what. He’s in your corner. He’s in your daughter’s corner. He doesn’t love anything more than you and her.
You’re his, and he’s yours.
You squeeze his hand.
“I’d be very happy,” you whisper softly.
//
Day four is lazy. Jack brings you breakfast in bed. The two of you watch the news because “all we’ve watched the entire time we’ve been here is movies, and don’t get me wrong, it’s awesome, but let an old man do an old man thing, sweetheart.”
So he watches the news, and you fall back asleep. You always preferred getting your news from The New York Times rather than watching it, but for Jack, you’ll suffer through the male anchor’s nasally voice.
You wake with your head in his lap, his hand on your belly, gently caressing your skin while your daughter tumbles around inside of your womb.
“Do you want to go on a walk?” he asks softly, running his fingers through your hair while you look up at him from his lap.
“Different trail?” you ask softly, rubbing your face against his soft bulge.
His fingers tighten in your hair and pull you back slightly. “Yeah. This one leads to a field. You’ll think it’s pretty.”
You hum. “Mm. Do I have to put on pants?”
Jack scoffs softly. “Guess not.”
“Okay, let me pee first. I’ll meet you on the porch.”
He helps you sit up and watches you pad into the bathroom and shut the door. He puts his prosthesis on, then finds his backpack. He pulls the ring box out of the pocket and opens the box just to make sure it’s still there.
He sticks it in his pocket, then grabs a water bottle before he heads out to the porch swing to wait for you.
You join him a few minutes later, still just dressed in your flimsy nightgown, though you put on some sensible shoes.
You hold your hand out for him, and he takes it and stands.
The trail is pretty; Jack was right.
It’s peaceful and shady, lined with trees. There’s so much greenery. A few deer and rabbits pass you by. It’s beautiful.
The trail opens up to a clearing surrounded by wildflowers.
You squeeze Jack’s hand, and he smiles at you like you’re the only woman in the world, his other hand reaching in his pocket.
You furrow your brow, then he holds a box out.
“Jack…”
He’s still smiling, then he gets down on one knee and opens the box.
Holy fucking shit.
It’s beautiful enough to gasp over and bring a hand to your mouth.
“Sweetheart.” His voice cracks just a little. Your lip wobbles. “I love you in a way I didn’t think was possible. You make me feel wanted. You make me excited about coming home after work. You make me laugh. I love listening to you talk about your favorite books and movies and how you want to raise our daughter. Baby, our daughter… I’m the luckiest guy in the world to be the man you let be her father. I swear to you that I will work every day to be worthy of being her dad, and, if you say yes, your husband.”
Tears well in your eyes as you look down at him. You smile behind your hands and sniff while you take in his words. You didn’t expect this to happen so soon, but fuck if you’re not over the moon.
“Sweetheart, will you marry me?” Jack asks softly.
You nod your head and wipe your eyes.
“Yes,” you choke out. “Yes, I’ll marry you.
Jack beams up at you and slides the ring over your finger, then stands up. He puts a hand on your waist and cups your jaw with the other as he kisses you.
“I love you,” he mumbles against your skin. “I love you. I love you, and I love our baby.”
“I love you more,” you whisper, hands tugging gently on his gray curls. “I’m so happy.”
He laughs softly and tilts his head to kiss your neck. “Wanna head back?”
You nod excitedly and let him lead you back on the trail.
When you get back to the cabin and Jack’s shut and locked the door, you’re on him. Jack’s practically about to eat your bottom lip while he pulls your dress over your body and you kick your shoes and socks off.
“I’m gonna give you everything,” he mutters as he walks you into the bedroom, pulling his shirt off. “My only priority is making you and our girl happy.”
You smile and lie back on the bed, horizontal. Jack walks over and pulls you to the edge of the bed. He grabs some pillows, and once he’s happy with how you’re propped up, he lowers his pants and boxers, then steps out of them.
He caresses your legs, smooth and soft. He pulls them up, your ankles on his shoulders. He turns his head to kiss your right ankle and pulls your anklet between his teeth. Last time you got a pedicure, you sent him a picture of the colors you were considering and let him pick.
Jack growls with the jewelry in his teeth, then kisses the other ankle, his thumbs caressing your shins.
“Baby, you’re so sexy,” he rasps. “From your head to your cute little hot pink toes. So pretty.”
He rubs his face against your foot, his hard cock rubbing against your drenched pussy.
“My beautiful fiancée,” he purrs.
You moan and arch your back.
“Fuck,” you hum. “You’re my fiancé. Fuck, Jack.”
“Gonna fuck you so good,” he slurs as he lines his cock up with your entrance.
His hands move down to hold your hips steady as he bottoms out.
“Shit,” you mewl.
Jack’s fingers flex against your hips while he lets you get used to the stretch.
“As much as I love the baby and how hot you look all full,” Jack pants, his hands settling on your bump, “I am gonna be fucking ecstatic when this isn’t in the way anymore.”
You giggle softly and cover his hands with yours. Jack growls at the sight of his ring on your finger.
“Fuck,” he rasps. “Looks fucking beautiful on you. You like it?”
“Mhm.” You smile down at it. “It’s perfect, baby. I love it. Thank you.”
He smiles down at you and brings your left hand up to his lips.
“You can move,” you mutter, squeezing him.
Jack hisses softly in response, then starts slowly thrusting his hips.
“I wanna get married as soon as possible,” Jack breathes. “Courthouse wedding. If you want, we can have a real wedding later, but I want to be your husband in the delivery room.”
You nod, your hands playing with your breasts. “Yeah, that’s good. I want that. Hopefully I can have your last name before the baby gets it.”
He chuckles softly and kisses your ankle. “You wanna take my name?”
You smile and nod. “Mhm. Like I said a few weeks ago, it feels better in my mouth.”
Jack laughs at that. “Sweetheart, do you realize how dirty that sounds?”
You furrow your brow for a moment, then your brows rise practically to your hairline.
“Fuck, I didn’t realize at first,” you laugh, bringing your hands to your mouth. “Ew, I’ve said that to a lot of people, Jack.”
He smiles and thrusts harder, earning a soft groan from you.
“I love you, honey,” he sighs.
You giggle. “I love you, too.”
He brings one hand down to your clit and starts rubbing.
You arch your back, and your breathing gets heavier.
“Fuck,” you sigh. “Jack, you feel so good. Gonna marry you just for this cock.”
He huffs a soft laugh through his nose and rubs harder. “You already have 24/7 access to this old man dick, baby. And I’ll have you know you’ll appreciate me as a husband for more than just sex.”
You sigh contentedly and buck your hips into his hand. “Right. Marrying an E.R. doc has its perks.”
Jack rolls his eyes and holds back a smile.
“I’m kidding,” you laugh. “I’m gonna be the luckiest wife in the world with the sweetest husband in the world.”
“Damn right. Although, I’m probably luckier.”
“I love you, Jack,” you sigh, your left hand caressing up and down his side while his fingers stay trained on your clit.
“I love you, sweetheart,” he whispers. He leans down, just a little. “I want you to come for your fiancé.”
You moan softly. His fingers speed up on your clit.
“Shit,” you grit through your teeth.
“Gonna come?” he teases.
You nod. You feel heavy and full.
“Good girl,” he pants. “Soak me, sweetheart. Come for me.”
Jack presses even harder on your clit, and with a soft whimper, you clench around his cock.
He hums in appreciation and watches your juices coat his pubic hair. It’s fucking cascading out of you.
“Shit,” he chokes, trying to talk and admire your orgasmic state. “You squirted,” he manages to get out before he spills his load inside of you.
As you regain your composure, you sigh. “I what?”
Through heavy breaths, Jack replies, “You squirted, sweetheart.”
Your brows raise slightly, and you let out a soft giggle.
Jack reaches for the tissues on the nightstand and cleans the excess arousal before he pulls out of you. When he’s got you clean enough, he pulls out, then helps you get into a more comfortable position. He takes his prosthesis off, then lies down next to you.
“I’ll make an appointment at the courthouse for the day after we get home,” he mutters softly, kissing your face. “That work?”
You nod and catch his lips in a soft kiss.
//
Day five, the last day before you leave tomorrow afternoon, is bliss. You stare at your engagement ring, rub your bump, and kiss Jack. You couldn’t be happier; you’re the luckiest woman in the world.
“How about Charlotte?” Jack asks, one hand rubbing your feet, the other scrolling through a baby name list on his phone.
“It’s pretty,” you answer, eyes fixed on the TV.
“Josephine.”
You shake your head. “Mm, that’s not her name.”
“Daisy.”
Silence.
“Juniper.”
You snort at it.
“I figured,” he mumbles. “Okay, how about–”
You lean in to catch his lips in a kiss.
“We’ll know when we meet her,” you murmur.
Jack sighs and leans his head back. “You think so?”
You nod and kiss his cheek. “For now, she’s still just ‘baby girl’.”
He kisses your jaw. “Baby Abbot.”
“Mhm. Baby Abbot.”
end author's note: if you don't want to be surprised-- the baby's activity decreases for three hours, they go to the ER for an NST, sappy moment, then the baby moves and all is well. ADDITIONALLY: should we dedicate like 3k words to the courthouse wedding as its own chapter, or just condense it, move on to the birth, then just focus on the WEDDING in a later installment? pls lmk ily
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Masterlist (full list of tags/warnings there. Please read them)
2k Words
“…the National Weather Service has issued a Blizzard Warning for Allegheny County, Pennsylvania until seven am local time.”
“Yes, I’m aware,” Jack murmured as he turned down the radio.
Freezing rain pelted his windshield as he drove ten under the speed limit, giving all other cars plenty of distance. The news had been warning about the storm for over a week, though no one seemed able to agree on what it would actually be. First, it was just a heavy snow. Then it was mostly rain thanks to a warm front that pushed its way north. Three days ago, the forecast shifted again as the warm front was bullied down by arctic air from Canada. Just enough rain to make the ground slick, then an ice storm, followed by more than a foot of snow.
The alert from the hospital went out the day before, asking any and all available staff scheduled for the next 48 hours to come in that night. There was a fear that people wouldn’t be able to get in, and when the county issued a stay at home order, the staff started dropping like flies. People with kids who had no childcare, elderly parents, no transportation and a dozen other reasons why they couldn’t come in.
Jack had replied immediately that he’d be there, and about a minute later, Robby also volunteered. He had texted Jack for a ride in, a motorcycle in this weather was a no go, and he knew Jack had his gas guzzler as he called it. Pulling up at the curb Jack pulled out his phone and sent Robby a quick text he was there.
‘On the way’ Robby answered a second later.
As Jack sat in the truck, he looked out the driver's window and saw someone emerge from Robby’s apartment. And it wasn’t Robby.
It was you. The knot that had settled in his shoulders after the drive over tightened tenfold as he put together that you were walking out of Robby’s apartment. That you were with Robby. How had he missed that?
“Well,” Jack murmured to himself, doing his best to not allow the disappointment he felt to take hold.
It wasn’t jealousy, not really. It was just recognition that he’d have to rein in the harmless flirting and not step on Robby’s toes. If anyone needed a bit of peace and happiness, it was him. As Jack leaned over to unlock the passenger door, he watched you slip, only slightly, one boot sliding sideways on the already icy walkway. He was instantly diving for his door to get out and help you before Robby caught your elbow and righted you.
“Hope you don’t mind the extra passenger,” Robby said as he opened the back door and tossed his duffel and your backpack in.
“Course not,” Jack answered. And he meant it. Mostly.
Jack moved to open his door again to help you climb in as he saw you hesitate, looking up at the height of the truck. He knew his truck was obscenely high, lifted with large tires. It was his one self indulgence after he got back from the Middle East. He hated being low to the ground, hated car lights blinding him. He wanted to be high, to see the area and know where all potential issues were. His therapist said it was the need to have control of the area stemming from his PTSD. His wife had said it was a dick measuring contest.
“I need a ladder,” you muttered as you finally got situated in the back seat and Robby claimed the front passenger seat.
“I’ll get you a stepstool for next time,” Jack answered with a grin as he looked up at you in the rearview mirror.
“How are the roads?” Robby asked as he sipped on his coffee.
“Not bad getting here, but it’s getting worse,” Jack answered. He found himself checking the mirror every few seconds, pretending he was watching for traffic behind him when he was really checking on you. “Won’t be long before it’ll be impassable.”
The three of them sat in silence as Jack navigated the street, save for the radio issuing the same warning again and you shifting around in the backseat to take off your multiple layers. Once you were free, you scooted to sit more centrally between the front seats and rested your hands on the backs of them. Jack didn't miss a thing. His eyes tracked yours, trying to figure out where you were looking. When your eyes met in the mirror for half a second, Jack looked immediately back at the road.
“Seriously, Jack, thank you for this,” you said with a small smile. “I thought I was going to be stuck walking half the city. Hence my expedition gear.”
“You don’t have a car?” Jack asked, raising an eyebrow to cover up his small smile. Hardly anyone ever called him Jack, most people defaulted to Abbott. Hearing his first name from you still caught him off guard every time.
“Haven’t needed one, public transit has been enough,” you explained as you sipped on your coffee. “One less bill to pay.”
Well shit. Had he read the situation wrong? Jack sat on it for a second before deciding to just ask. It was better to just know.
“So you walked to Robby’s just for the ride?” He asked. Robby’s side eye from where he was leaning against the passenger door was practically a beacon before Jack even looked over at him. Fucker always knew.
“Yeah, I was going to just walk when they shut down the buses, but Robby told me to stop at his place since you were picking him up,” you answered with a small shrug.
“That…makes sense,” Jack conceded, but he could still sense Robby watching him.
“Really?” Robby finally asked as Jack turned the wheel to take a wide turn down the main street.
“Yes?” Jack asked, finally looking at Robby. He knew the look and the slight cock of his lips. He was about to make him eat shit.
“Your subtlety could use work,” Robby answered.
“What?” You asked, looking between the two of them.
“Oh, Jack thought we were together,” Robby answered relentlessly, knowing Jack’s ears were burning. “Walking out of my apartment with a backpack is apparently a sign of a relationship now.”
“Oh God, oh no,” you laughed aloud, tossing your head back a bit. “Definitely not.”
“Now hang on, you answered that too fast,” Robby replied, turning his attention to you as Jack slowed for a red light.
“Me and you? Absolutely not. You leave your socks on the coffee table, and I’ve seen all your other bad habits during residency,” you answered, smirking a bit.
“You’re no peach either,” Robby shot back as he grinned into his coffee, eyes back on Jack to watch his reaction. “I seem to remember your paranoia about showering alone?”
“I am perfectly capable of showering alone,” you instantly retorted, voice an octave higher, eyes darting to Jack in the rearview mirror before going back to Robby. “I don’t like being home alone when I shower,” you explained to Jack so he had some context. “We’ve been in emergency medicine long enough to know how many slips and falls happen. I’m not going out in my tub.”
Jack laughed quietly at the response, enjoying the sound of your laugh and defensive answer, but didn't say anything else. He knew Robby had used that wording on purpose, he wanted to goad him more than you. So instead, he continued driving, swerving gently around a car that had already crashed and been abandoned as he turned onto the street of the hospital.
In the silence, Jack felt the tension in his shoulders and the disappointment in his chest at his assumption that you and Robby were together dissipate, his fingers loosening their tight grip on the steering wheel. He told himself it was just because he enjoyed your company, and he selfishly didn’t want to feel guilty about looking at you. Admitting anything more would be too much.
“Looking pretty sparse out here,” you stated as Jack parked in the garage. More than three quarters of the staff parking spaces were empty.
“Welcome to a winter storm in The Pitt,” Robby said as he downed the last dregs of his coffee and opened the door. “We’ll be a skeleton crew for the next day or so. All the vets and the eager newbies will be in.”
“Not sure which is worse,” you replied as Jack hopped out and opened your door for you, seemingly without thinking.
“The vets,” Jack answered as he held out his hand to help you down. “Grumpier.”
“Now that I can agree with,” you answered with a smile that made Jack’s stomach flip. Fuck. He knew he was in it now. And Robby’s smug face, looking between your briefly held hands, was not helping.
The three of you walked in together, crossing the small bridge over the ambulance bay connecting the garage to the hospital. The wind whipped through the exposed stretch of walkway, and Jack unconsciously moved himself between you and the wind. It was bitingly cold, and the ice pelted his face and started caking in his hair. He hadn’t even realized he did it until Robby glanced back at him with another knowing smirk. Fuck he was slipping up all over the place without even realizing. What else had he done these past few weeks? Were other people noticing it as well?
“Oh, good, you’re here,” Lena called, pulling Jack out of his thoughts. “Attendings are situated in conference room B,” she said simply, barely looking up from her computer.
“What’s wrong with the regular bunk area?” Robby asked.
“Nothing, residents are in there. You get a slight upgrade,” she grinned, gesturing to where you need to go.
“Well, I’ll see you all in a bit?” You asked, turning to look at Jack and Robby. You were midshift, so you were going to go rest while you could.
“Sure, try to get some sleep,” Jack answered as he dropped his bag behind the nurses’ station. He’d go get set up in the makeshift sleep area later.
“You done?” Robby asked Jack after you disappeared around the corner, yet his eyes were still staring at the spot.
“Done with what?” Jack asked, pulling himself out of it and grabbing a random tablet as a distraction.
“Watching, staring…pining,” Robby snorted.
“I wasn’t staring,” Jack shot back as he flipped through screens to look at patient counts.
“Jack,” Robby interjected and waited until the man looked up.
“I just,” Jack huffed, knowing his ears were going to turn red to match the burn in a moment. “Let’s get to work, they’re already behind,” he said, indicating the tablet in his hand.
“You’ve got it bad, pal,” Robby said as he nudged his shoulder when they walked around the side to look at the patient board.
“I’ve got nothing,” Jack answered as he tucked the tablet under his arm to stare up at the list of patients.
“You were watching her the whole ride over here. I contemplated asking if you wanted me to drive,” Robby continued. “Then you helped her out of the truck.”
“It’s lifted, and she already said it was too high,” Jack said before sighing. He knew he wasn’t going to win this.
“I saw the look on your face when you thought we were together, then the relief when we weren’t. The only person you’re lying to is yourself. I’ve seen you these past few months,” Robby finished as a nurse brushed past them.
“Yeah, well. Maybe you should be together, you need something to occupy your time and keep your nose out of my business,” Jack answered, trying his best not to sound snarky or put emphasis behind it. Because he did not want you and Robby together. At all.
“For what it’s worth,” Robby said, finally willing to let it drop so as not to agitate Jack more. “She’s oblivious. So, if you aren’t ready, it’s okay.”
“Pain in my ass,” Jack muttered as he twisted to watch Robby walk off to start patient checks in the South.
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Thanks for giving this story a chance! I know it's not my usual fandom but I couldn't get this idea out of my head. Next chapter shifts to Reader's perspective...and we'll see whether Robby is right about the whole "she's oblivious" thing.
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