Recovery
[jack abbot x fem reader] [reader recovering from surgery] [jack doting on reader] [lots of pet names for reader] [maybe a little sexual tension] [mentions of pain meds] [falling asleep together]
Summary: you're recovering from surgery and jack is taking care of you. you've never had someone to tend to you like this. it would normally make you feel guilty but right now you're in too much pain to care. you need help and the only person you want there is Jack.
Word count: 2k
Authors note: hey chat in all honesty this one is totally selfish. i myself am recovering from surgery and this is how i'm coping. hope this scratches that mushy, protective, adoring Jack itch I know so many of us have. much love <3
"Ow! Fuck! God-"
"Easy, easy." He chides.
You're trying to get comfortable in bed but every movement of your torso sends pain shooting down your spine. Laying on your stomach helps. A bit. You wiggle and squirm, punching pillows, and gathering blankets to try and prop yourself up.
"Let me get that darling." Jack reaches for the blanket you're craning behind you to reach.
He pulls it up to your shoulders and smooths it over your back.
"Thank you." You mumble.
You're exhausted. The pain meds make you more tired than actually helping with the pain. You're grumpy, and hurting, and you'd really like this to go away now please. You feel Jack's hand on your back, warm enough to penetrate through the blanket. He rubs back and forth between and across your shoulder blades.
You let out a soft groan of gratitude.
"What can I do for you sweetheart?" Jack implores. "I'll do anything I can."
"This is really nice." You mumble back, face muffled by your tangle of pillows and blankets.
He brings his other hand to your shoulder and starts massaging both your shoulders, up your neck and the base of your skull. You let out another soft, muffled groan of pleasure as his fingers glide up behind your ears and back down your neck. The pressure and the pace are just right; long, firm motions gently stretching your muscles and working out knots that had formed over weeks.
You squirm slightly under his touch, writhing in the feeling of his strong, calloused hands on the tender skin of your neck. You stop quickly. Moving hurts too much. You force yourself to be still and let yourself absorb the full weight of his fingers kneading and stretching your muscles. Another little contented groan escapes your mouth. You feel it's getting excessive at this point but you can't help yourself.
"My sweet girl. That feel good baby?" Jack coos. It's so loving it's almost patronizing. You feel mushy and warm and his words hit you right in your gooey center. You nod your head as much as the mound of pillows will let you.
"Use your words for me darling." Now he's patronizing. And you love it. You feel safe and adored, like his world revolves around making you feel good. As he waits for your answer he deepens the pressure coming from his fingers.
You've never had this before. Someone so utterly devoted to caring for you. Someone who got satisfaction from your pleasure. Who seemingly, at times, lived to worship you. Usually it made you feel a little guilty, but right now you were in too much pain to feel guilty. Much to your chagrin, you needed someone to take care of you right now. And the only one you wanted to be there was Jack.
"Talk to me baby." He pressed. "I know you can use your words."
"Yes." You exhale. "It feels good."
"How good angel?"
"So good." You're practically moaning.
He leans down to place a kiss right below your hairline.
Then one below that.
Then another.
"Can this come off?" He asks gently, pulling at your shirt.
You nod and he helps you squirm out of your shirt. When you wince in pain at a wrong movement his hands freeze immediately.
"I'm okay." You reassure him.
"Are you sure? You don't have to; it can stay on."
"No. I want the feeling of your hands on my skin." You reply and continue to wiggle out of your t-shirt.
Jack helps pull it over your head and arms and places it gently on the bed next to you, like he's afraid that if he moves to fast or carelessly he'll hurt you. His hands return to your shoulders, rough and calloused in most places, but soft in the center of his palms. He rubs in circles up and down your back. He gets that spot right where you can never reach or stretch properly. His thumbs knead the space right under your shoulder blades. His touch is firm and grounding.
You were simply putty for him to play with.
Dough to knead.
Clay to wedge.
And you're soaking in every second of it. Basking in it; reveling. A sense of peace and calmness washes over you like you've never felt before. You're safe. You're loved. And you know it through and through.
"How are you doing my love? Can I get you anything else?" Jacks words are soft and sincere. He truly wants to grant your every wish and that desire pours out of every word he speaks.
"Some water would be nice." You say timidly. You're still getting used to asking for things. You know it makes him so happy when you let him do things for you. You only let him because you both recognize that you're fully capable, he just lets you choose not to. Well, most of the time that it. Right now you need his help. Getting up is too painful and the floor feels like it's miles away, much less the kitchen.
"Of course my love. And maybe something to eat? It's been a few hours."
"Oh yeah, I guess so. I have no idea what I want. My stomach's all wonky from the meds."
"How about some toast and fruit? I'll make you a little plate; sweet and salty."
"My favourite." You smile into the pillow.
"I'll be right back my love." He brings the phone up to your hand resting above your head. "Text me, call me, or holler if you need anything while I'm gone."
"Thank you Dr. Abbot." Your grin widens.
"Anything for you princess." And with that he plants one last kiss on the back of your neck and stands up to make his way towards the kitchen.
You hear the sounds of his devotion coming from rooms away. The thunk of the toaster starting, the faucet running to wash the fruit, the knife hitting the cutting board to slice it. All you could think about was how grateful you are to have someone you love adore you like this. To know that someone would be there for you through every step of the process. Someone to dress your wounds and help you shower, to keep track of your meds and help with meals. Being vulnerable like this wasn't your go to, but there was something freeing about just letting go and letting someone take care of you.
Within a few minutes you hear Jack's footsteps approaching the bedroom. You prop yourself up into a position appropriate for eating. In the process you let out a cacophony of grunts, gasps, and very creative combinations of curse words.
He sets the plate down in front of you and you immediately dive into the toast while it's still hot and buttery. The fruit can wait its turn.
"Oh sweetheart, is it that bad?" Concern pours out of Jack's voice.
"It sounds worse than it is." You don't want him to worry. In reality it feels like someone is punching you in the worst bruise of your life.
"Are you sure about that? I think it's almost time for more pain meds, why don't I go get your next dose?" He knows you're in more pain than you're willing to admit.
"They just make me sleepy."
"Maybe after you eat some rest isn't a bad idea." He's trying to toe the line between telling you what to do, and taking care of you. You respect his efforts and consider his idea more than you originally wanted to.
"Maybe you're right," You huff. "but I want to spend time with you. I miss you. I know you're right here but I miss your touch. I just want to be with you." You sound more desperate than you meant. Not proud, but reasonable to admit that it was true. You were desperate for him. For his presence, his touch. You didn't want him to leave.
"We can still be together while we rest." He placed his hand on your thigh while you popped a berry into your mouth. "You finish up that fruit, and I'll put something on the tv. We'll get you comfortable and tucked in, then I'll curl up next to you an hold you, and rub your back. If you fall asleep, you fall asleep, and if not we can just cuddle for a bit. Does that sound okay?"
You sulkily plop another piece of fruit into your mouth.
"Mmhmm" You say with a mouthful before swallowing. "I guess that sounds really nice."
"I'll go get your meds. I'll be right back baby." As he goes to stand up you catch his wrist gently, but enough to make him stop and turn towards you.
"You promise you won't leave even if I fall asleep?" Your head is tilted up towards him, doe eyes as big as saucers.
He reaches a hand to cup your cheek. "Of course my love. I'll lay with you as long as you'd like."
Your hand lets go of his wrist and your face rests gently in Jack's palm.
"Thank you." The words come out just above a whisper.
"Anything for my angel." His thumb brushes over your cheek one more time before he pulls his hand away. "Now give me two minutes, then, I promise, I'm all yours."
You smile and work to finish your plate while he gets your pain meds. You don't mind the idea of falling asleep nearly as much when you know you get to wake up in Jack's arms. Jack returns with a bottle in one hand and a tall glass of ice water in the other. He sits on the edge of the bed and hands you the glass of water.
"Hand." He motions for you to put out your other palm face up. With one word he can get you to do exactly what he wants. You give him your palm and he shakes two pills out of the container.
"Swallow." And you do.
"That's my girl. Now let's get you tucked in." He moves the empty plate off the bed.
You start to lay down, grunting and gasping and cursing again.
"Oh baby." His voice breaks just for a second seeing you in pain.
"I'll be okay. I just need to get comfortable." It takes a minute of shifting your weight from side to side and stuffing pillows in exactly the right spot before you found a comfortable position on your side. Jack pulled the blanket up over your shoulders and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead.
"What would you like to watch?" He asked grabbing the remote off the bedside table.
"Something funny." You reply.
"What about new girl? Or Psych?"
"Psych please."
"Psych it is." He clicks the remote a few times and the sound of your ultimate comfort show filled the room.
Jack turned the volume down just low enough that you would be able to fall asleep, but not so low that couldn't hear clearly. He put the remote down and moved to fill the space next to you. His chest gently supporting your back, his knees on the back of yours. His had reaching around to hold your waist, thumb brushing slowly back and forth across your bare skin.
"You feel okay my love? Is there anything you need? You find it so incredibly sweet how much he's checking in on you.
"Just you." You reply with a yawn.
Your hand reaches for his and you squeeze It gently.
"I think I might take a little nap." You say, this time through an active yawn.
"I'll be right here when you get up sweetheart."
And with that you let your eyes shut, and your body relax. You let your weight press into Jack's chest and stomach, and the half of you that was still awake felt him squeeze you ever so tightly. That was enough to let you let go completely. You gave into the warm feeling making your eyelids heavy and your breath deepen. You drifted off to sleep in the arms of the man you loved, who loved you back more than words could describe.
And when you woke up a few hours later he was still there. As promised.