hi! ! she/her. 22. afro-latina. professional fangirl. multi-fandom. jack abbot's sweet girl. woke asf. minors & republicans dni!
currently writing for: dr. jack abbot, dr. michael 'robby' robinavitch, dr. dennis whitaker, clark kent, peter parker, james 'bucky' barnes, steve harrington, satoru gojo, nanami kento.
fandoms: the pitt, mcu, dcu, stranger things, taylor swift, olivia rodrigo, sabrina carpenter, halsey, aot, jjk, slayyyter, audrey hobert, gracie abrams, ariana grande, lady gaga, harry styles, young justice, lorde, conan gray + a bunch more...
new to writing fanfic! this blog is just for fun, so i'll be writing when i feel like it / have the time :) feel free to request if you'd like!
hiii <3 thank you so much for all the love on comfort measures! I've been reading fanfic for like 10ish years at this point, and I thought I'd give writing a try for fun. it's been incredibly cathartic and it makes me so so happy to see that my writing has brought y'all some comfort :')
I'm still gonna be writing as I feel like it / get inspo for it, so sorry if there's no schedule or anything lol. but I promise to keep everything in one part when I do post!!
I'm working on a dr. robby x reader inspired by all too well by Taylor swift so stay tuned <3 thank you again for all the support!!
Synopsis: Jack comes home to find that his sweet girl accidentally bled all over his sheets. She thinks it's the end of the world. Jack thinks his girl is in pain and needs taking care of. They have very different priorities.
Content: periods, comfort fic, afab!reader, reader is a crybaby (twin), lots of nicknames, fluff, jack’s disabled, constant reassurance, non-sexual praise, established relationship, reader has hair long enough to brush & wash, nudity, sickening amount of fluff, amateur fic writing
A/N: my first fic! kind proof read / not really. please be nice, and if its shit don't tell me lol. this was entirely self-indulgent bc my period is kicking my ass :') enjoy!
Jack knew something was wrong the minute he walked through the door.
Usually, his sweet girl was curled up on the couch, fighting to wake up, using all of her strength to sleepily pad her way towards the equally tired man the moment she laid her eyes on him. A lazy half-smile had been on his face the entire drive home. He'd spent it imagining the million little kisses she’d press across his face while he stood there, still somehow surprised that someone as precious as her loved him back.
He was greeted by the same comforting calm of his town home, a stark contrast from the electric buzz of the PTMC. Jack looks to the couch… and it’s empty.
While part of him wanted to panic a little, he knew better. He furrowed his unruly eyebrows as he dropped his things slowly, making his way to the bedroom. He knew she was here somewhere. Her car was in the driveway, and could see the spare key he gave her on the kitchen table.
His shoulders hunched over with the exhaustion only the night shift could bring, as he turned the corner and saw her frame in bed. Jack's shoulders relaxed, despite the weight of the past 13 hours. A tired smile found its way onto his face as he took in her sleeping silhouette breathing slowly, her upper half covered in his navy blue duvet.
Then he heard his sweet girl whimper, like a wounded animal.
He called her name lightly; no response.
Jack walked towards her, trying to ignore the dull ache of his prosthetic after a long shift. He watches her sleeping frame lightly curl in on herself, a light groan escaping her lips.
The doctor in him does an immediate intake, scanning over her. That’s when he sees it: the small, dark crimson patch below her, following the trail between her legs. It’s fresh, almost concealed from his eyes from the blackout curtains of his room.
His poor girl.
He turned on the lamp, on his bedside table before Jack’s calloused hands brushed her sweat-slick hair away from her forehead, her body slowly relaxing at his touch.
“Baby, I’m home,” he whispered.
Her back arches lightly as she begins to stir, eyes fluttering as Jack coaxes her back from the land of dreams.
“Hi Jackie,” she mumbles, voice dripping in sleep.
She stretches a little, smiling up at her man, before taking in her surroundings. She opens her mouth to ask Jack about his shift before feeling the warm damp feeling between her legs. She looks down and sees red before going cold, heart sinking.
She freezes before sitting up quickly, immediately grabbing at the bunched up duvet in an attempt to cover up the stain.
“Oh my God… no, no, no…,” she murmured, her eyes starting to sting with embarrassment.
“Hey, hey. Breathe,” Jack’s silky voice enveloped her as he moved to sit on the bed, petting her head. His heart broke a little watching his girl panic quietly, making it his mission to quell her anxiety.
“I bled all over your bed, fuck.”
Hot tears begin to fill her vision. She tried to blink them away, feeling even worse that she made such a mess in her boyfriend’s bed, and is somehow making it about her. In the back of her mind she was praying to whoever would listen, hoping the universe would show her some mercy and swallow her whole.
“Honey, it really is ok—”
Jack continued to comfort the poor girl, his large hand cupping her cheek as he wiped away some rogue tears. His attempts at calming her are interrupted by her panicked babbling.
“I’m really, really sorry Jack.” Her lip quivered, trying to remain calm and failing miserably.
While their relationship wasn’t particularly new, she still hadn’t dealt with… this, over the months they’ve been together. At least not at his place. She felt the dull ache of her hips begin the bloom, her embarrassment doing little to distract her from the sudden sharp pain of her cramps.
Jack’s voice broke through her anxious fog, as he bent down to meet her eyes.
“What are you apologizing for?”
“Your sheets…”
“They’re just sheets, baby. I’ll wash them.”
“This is so embarrassing.”
“For who?”
She avoids his gaze, too busy racking her mind over and over on how to make it all better, than to respond to Jack’s question. His hand moves to lightly pinch her chin between his pointer finger and thumb.
“Pretty girl, please look at me.”
Her watery eyes reluctantly meet his as he guides her head gently.
“There you are,” he said lovingly, his handsome half smile blooming as she followed his request.
“I feel gross.”
Jack immediately frowned at that.
“Babygirl you are far from gross to me right now.”
She swallowed hard, ears heating up at his words. “But… I ruined your bed. And your morning.”
“No, sweetheart. You got your period. Those are two very different things.” His voice lowered to a whisper before continuing, "You haven't ruined a thing. Not the sheets. Not my morning. Certainly not you, pretty girl.”
Maybe it’s the way Jack is treating her with such care, the sheer humiliation of this moment, or the amount of hormones flowing through her, but the poor girl can’t stop crying. It’s not even particularly dramatic, but it does feel equally as pathetic as she imagines sobbing in front of him would. Her breath is ragged, her lip quivers uncontrollably, and her brows shake from the strain of holding her frown. She sniffles, and wipes at her tears like she’s trying to will it all to go away.
“You shouldn’t have to deal with this.”
“Why not?” Jack at this point is equally devastated at the meek sound of the woman in front of him, and confused as to why she’s so embarrassed about something so natural.
“I've worked in an emergency department for over twenty years. It’s going to take more than a little blood to scare me off.”
“I’m still really sorry. I didn’t know it was coming…” she hiccuped.
“Irregular cycles happen honey, I get it.”
“And you just got off of work—”
“Exactly, so let me do my job. Let me take care of my girl, ok?”
A deep frown etched itself further onto her now splotchy, tear-stained face.
“I was gonna make you breakfast.” Her voice cracked a little at the end of her confession. “I’m supposed to take care of you.”
With a tilt of his head, his crow’s feet spread wide as Jack smiled in pure disbelief. How did he manage to get such a sweet girl? What could he have possibly done in a past life to deserve her?
“C’mere.”
He doesn’t wait for her to follow his direction, but immediately scoops her up into his big, freckle kissed arms, holding her like he’s trying to put her back together, one gentle touch at a time.
The exhaustion from her own emotions releases as soon as Jack has a hold on her. He manhandles her a little in the way she needs when she’s overwhelmed. Her head instinctually moves to hide in the crease of his neck, finding comfort in the scent of amber, sandalwood, and something else she could only describe as distinctly Jack.
She feels his slender nose bury his way into her messy hair, as he takes a deep inhale. He begins to lightly rock her in his lap before placing a few chaste kisses along her hairline.
“My sweet girl…” Jack coos, his lips brushing the crown of her head.
She buries her face a little deeper into his neck, focusing on the sound of his breathing, trying to match its rhythm.
“Right now I need you to let me take care of you. I know you’re embarrassed, but humor me anyway.”
She sniffles before slowly, readjusting her face to stare up at him, nodding once.
“Good girl.”
A shy smile and a blush appear on her face. Jack lets out a small laugh at her shyness.
“Can I ask you a couple of doctor questions?” He asks, cupping her face once more.
“Mhm.” She quietly gives permission.
“Ok sweetheart, scale of one to ten, how’s the pain?”
She thinks to herself for a moment.
“A seven. Maybe seven and a half.”
Jack’s hand moves to her tummy, rubbing lightly and moving to massage her hips.
“Where does it hurt the most, baby?”
“My hips and lower back. Like I’m being stabbed.” She groans sarcastically as another strike of pain hits her pelvic area. “My head hurts too.”
Jack gave a small nod, his expression settling into something calm and certain.
Wordlessly, he stood, gathering her into his arms as though it was the most natural thing in the world. Judging by the smile tugging at his lips, it might've been his favorite part.
“Jaaack!” The girl squealed in surprise, tightly gripping his shoulders and once again hiding her face in the pretty creases in his neck, his stubble tickling her.
“Shhhh pretty girl. You said I can take care of you, so let me,” he stated, voice strong and firm, allowing no room for argument.
She didn’t argue. She felt herself melt a little further into his chest, cheeks warming despite everything. There was something unfairly comforting about the quiet confidence in his voice.
He made his way towards the bathroom, using his elbow to flick on the light switch. The way his beautiful girlfriend melted into him made the ache in his leg completely worthwhile.
He gently set her on her feet before helping her sit on the closed lid of the toilet. Jack crouched in front of her, bringing himself to eye level. He held her waist as he looked into her red-rimmed eyes. Her face was puffy from crying, but Jack thought it made her look like an angel. He couldn’t have dreamt her up if he tried.
Rubbing his thumbs comfortingly against her torso, the only thing on his mind now was making his girl feel better.
"Here's what we're gonna do," he said softly. "I'm going to get these clothes and the sheets in the wash. While I do that, I want you to use the bathroom, okay? Then I'll help you get cleaned up.”
His girl played with her fingers in her lap, still feeling shy, but nodded at his instructions. She nibbled at her lip a little before squeaking out a “Thank you Jackie.”
“Anytime pretty girl.”
Jack leaned forward, slipping his fingers beneath the hem of the old U.S. army shirt she'd borrowed from him. He stole one slow, gentle kiss, turning the girl into a puddle under his touch. This kiss was slow and full of care, feeling like they were in their own little world.
The couple only parted when Jack moved to pull the shirt off of her frame.
“Arms up for me, sweetheart.”
Once she was naked, Jack stood up and gathered her clothes, reassuring her that he would be right back.
The now naked girl took a moment to sit in the silence of Jack’s simple bathroom.
She stared at the closed door for a moment before letting out a long, shaky breath. The embarrassment hadn't disappeared, but it no longer sat quite so heavy in her chest. She wasn't sure she believed Jack completely yet... that she hadn’t made some earth shattering mistake, but listening to the quiet purr of his AC, she believed him enough.
Slowly, she took care of herself, wiping away the blood smeared on her thighs, wincing as another cramp rolled through her hips like a storm. The exhausted girl starts to sweat, feeling like there is a live wire under her skin. The light is too bright, her hips ache, her head is two seconds away from having cartoon birds float above her.
By the time she gathered the strength to stand, putting her weight onto the nearby bathroom counter, she zeroed in on the familiar sounds of Jack moving through the house.
The washing machine rumbled to life. Fresh sheets snapped crisply over the mattress. Cabinets opened and closed with practiced ease. The kettle clicked on. Somewhere between remaking the bed and digging through the medicine cabinet, she heard him quietly ordering breakfast from the little diner they'd started calling their place. He didn't even have to ask what she wanted anymore.
It was oddly comforting listening to him put the house back together while she attempted to do the same thing to herself.
There’s a soft knock on the door that interrupts the quiet.
"Can I come in, sweetheart?"
"Mhm."
Jack nudged the door open with his shoulder, his arms already full. Fresh pajamas were draped over one forearm, a fluffy towel over the other. Balanced carefully in one hand was a glass of ice water, two ibuprofen resting in his palm.
A soft smile spread across his face as he found her waiting for him. There was something deeply intimate about moments like this.
"There's my girl."
She gave him a tired smile in return, now standing, gently wrapping her arms around herself.
Jack crossed the room, setting everything on the counter before turning back to her.
"Open."
She blinked, similar to a deer in headlights.
"What?"
He extended his palm between them.
“Medicine. For the cramps. Open.”
Her lips pulled into a small pout as she eyed the pills suspiciously, like he'd just handed her poison. Rationally, she knew they would ease the cramps eventually. Unfortunately, nausea wasn't known for being particularly rational. Her stomach rolled at the mere thought of swallowing anything right now.
“… I don’t want to.”
“I know.”
“They’re huge.”
“They’re tiny.” Jack smirked at her antics, managing to still be spoiled despite the pain she was in. Her attitude was his own fault, so he couldn’t be mad. If anything, he was getting more and more lovestruck by the second.
“Jack…” the girl whined.
A laugh escaped him before he could stop it. She folded her arms in mock hurt and protest. Jack lifts his free hand to pet her hair away from her face.
“C’mon honey, doctor’s orders.”
That only made her pout some more.
“This is an abuse of your license, Dr. Abbot.”
The cheshire cat had nothing on the grin Jack was wearing right now.
"I’m pretty sure encouraging my girlfriend to take ibuprofen falls well within my scope of practice.”
“… I still don’t want to. Don’t want to throw up.”
Jack stepped closer until they were nearly touching. He closes the distance, nudging his sloped nose against her own, breath fanning her face. His voice softened at the concern in her voice.
“You won’t. Big drink of water first." He grabbed a glass of water from the counter and placed it in her hands. "Then the pills."
She sighed dramatically, shoulders deflating, eyes closing in defeat.
She pushes up on her tip toes to kiss him gently, before taking the pills out of his palm. Doing as she was told, she grimaced dramatically once she'd swallowed them.
"Ugh."
"Atta girl."
"Try not to look so pleased with yourself."
“Can’t help it. You’re too good for me.”
He lightly taps her ass with his hand, and kisses her cheek before maneuvering her body to switch places with his.
“Time to shower.”
Jack pulls away the shower curtain, moving to sit on the edge of the tub. Steam begins to bloom through the bathroom as he turns on the water, sticking his hand under the faucet to check the temperature. He adjusts the flow until the water settled into a gentle, steady warmth.
"There," he murmured, more to himself than anyone else. "Perfect."
His girl watched him in awe as he made himself bare before his fingers found the buckle of his prosthetic with practiced ease. She watched quietly as he unfastened the socket before setting the leg carefully against the wall.
She'd watched him do it countless times, but something about it always made her pause. It was one of the few moments where he let himself be taken apart in front of someone else.
Before she could drift too far into thought, he looked up.
"C'mere, sweetheart."
She helped him stand up off the edge of the tub, step into the spray of water before settling into this built in shower seat. She followed suit stepping carefully over the lip of the shower, immediately sighing as the warm water kissed her skin.
Jack patted his thick thigh and opened his arms.
Without a word, she settled onto his lap sideways, one arm looping around his shoulders as she tucked her face into his neck. The heat of the shower seeped into both of their aching muscles, and for the first time all morning, the knot in her hips loosened ever so slightly. Jack rested one hand against the small of her back, the other rubbing slow circles over her hip. The tips of his fingers messed with the ends of her hair, as they began to curl from the heat and humidity of the room.
"Better?"
"...A little."
"I'll take a little."
For a long while, neither of them spoke. The water drummed softly against the tile and their bodies while he simply held her, content to let the warmth and the medicine begin doing their jobs. She pressed kiss after kiss against his neck, and he traces sweet nothings into her skin, like it could magically will all of her pain away.
Eventually, Jack reached for the bottle of body wash.
"Mind if I help?" He mumbles against the crown of her head.
She nodded against his shoulder.
His movements were unhurried, almost reverent. He worked the soap into a soft lather before gently washing away the dried sweat and tears from her skin, careful around the tenderness in her stomach and hips. The room filled with the scent of citrus, a bright clean scent he bought for her when she started spending the night. Every touch of his hands asked a silent question, every pause waiting to see if she needed him to stop.
She couldn't remember the last time someone had treated her body with so much patience. That alone made her eyes well up again. Thankfully the billows of steam and the spray of water hid her secret from the gentle man cradling her.
When he reached for the shampoo, she smiled.
"Jack..."
"What?"
"I can wash my own hair."
"I know."
His fingers disappeared into her curls anyway, scratching lightly at her scalp until she melted with an involuntary sigh.
"There it is," he teased. "Knew that'd get you."
After he rinsed the shampoo, thoroughly checking to make sure none got in her eyes, Jack went to put the bottle back on the shelf. The girl caught his wrist in her hand.
"Your turn." She said, like it was only fair that she returned the favor.
Jack blinked.
"Sweetheart—"
"You've been on your feet for thirteen hours." She gently took the bottle from his hand. "Humor me anyway,” she teased, repeating his words from earlier.
Jack's mouth opened to protest before closing just as quickly. There wasn't much fight left in him after his shift, and truthfully, he didn't want to deny her this. Not when she was looking at him like he hung the moon just for her. Which he would, by the way.
"...Okay," he relented, a fond smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
She shifted carefully to straddle his lap before hesitating, her hands coming to rest lightly against his shoulders as she hovered momentarily.
"...Jack?"
"Yeah, sweetheart?"
Her eyes dropped between them.
"I'm sorry if I... get blood on you."
The apology came out so quietly it was almost lost beneath the steady patter of the shower.
Jack's brows knitted together for only a second before he reached up, cupping her damp cheek.
"Honey." His thumb swept gently across her skin. "We're literally in the shower."
A tiny laugh escaped her as she gave him a sheepish look.
"And even if we weren't..." He smiled, pushing her hips down to meet his, forehead resting against hers. "I'd much rather have you in my lap than worry about a little blood."
Her shoulders softened.
"I love you, Jackie.”
“I love you more, sweet girl.”
She gave him a languid kiss, his tongue swirling against hers before she pulled back to wet his salt-and-pepper curls. Her fingers were meticulous in combing carefully through each lock until they were slicked back from his face. Fuck, he was so pretty.
A small amount of shampoo was rubbed into a rich lather between her hands before she worked it gently into his hair. Her fingertips scratched slow, deliberate circles against his scalp, lingering at the base of his neck where the day's tension had settled. Between each scratch of his scalp, his girl pressed kisses on the apples of his cheeks, his angular jaw, and anywhere else she could reach from this position without much effort.
Jack's eyes drifted shut almost immediately at the feeling. His hands massaged the swell of her hips, and he relished in the feeling of her soft tummy pressing against his. Jack couldn't remember the last time someone had washed his hair, or took care of him like this.
He'd long since adapted to doing nearly everything himself. But there was something impossibly tender about surrendering such an ordinary task to the woman he loved. Every careful stroke through his graying curls, every gentle scratch of her nails against his scalp, every ounce of attention she poured into him whispered the same thing she'd been trying to tell him all morning:
Let me take care of you, too.
A quiet hum escaped his chest before he could stop it.
She smiled to herself.
"Good?"
He cracked one eye open just enough to look at her.
"Dangerously."
She finishes rinsing his hair, watching the suds flow down his neck and disappear between their touching chests. She drags her hand down his face before tipping his chin up, admiring the clean silver strands now curling tighter from the steam.
"You're so handsome, you know that?" She whispered with a light tilt to her voice.
Jack smiled lazily. "Hm. I've been told."
His hand moves up from her hip to brush the side of her breast lovingly.
"Not nearly enough."
She kissed him once. Then again. Then a third time just because she could. His hands pulled her impossibly close, like if he tried hard enough they could merge into one. Not that he’d mind one bit.
"Feeling better?" he asked between kisses.
"Mhm."
"Good. Was starting to miss my girl."
She laughed into his mouth, stealing one lingering kiss before bumping her nose against his.
"I’m back."
After a few more minutes of hushed ‘I love you’s’ and gentle caresses under steam, a shiver rippled through her before she could stop it. Jack felt it immediately where she rested against him, his hands instinctively rubbing a little more warmth into the small of her back.
"Cold?" he asked softly.
She gave a sleepy nod against his shoulder.
"A little bit."
He reached behind him, fingers searching for the faucet before twisting it shut. The steady hiss of water faded until all that remained was the soft drip from the shower head and the sound of their breathing.
"Guess that's our cue."
Neither of them moved.
She stayed tucked against him for another few heartbeats, content to listen to the slowing rhythm of his heartbeat beneath her ear. Jack rested his cheek against the crown of her head, planting one absentminded kiss into her damp curls.
"We're gonna wrinkle," he murmured.
"You already are."
That made Jack smack her ass a little sharper this time, making her giggle in surprise.
“Brat.”
“You love it.”
"...You've got me there."
Reluctantly, she untangled herself from his lap and stepped carefully onto the bathmat. Jack followed more deliberately, bracing one hand against the grab bar as he eased himself onto the edge of the tub before reaching for the towel he'd left waiting.
Before he could unfold it, gentle fingers stole it from his hands. He watched her with soft eyes.
"You spoil me."
She looked up with a grin.
"I learned from the best."
She draped the oversized towel over his shoulders before gently rubbing the moisture from his hair, careful not to muss the silver curls she'd just washed more than necessary. The towel moved down over his neck and broad shoulders, lingering where the muscles still carried the weight of the night.
Her touch was slower now than it had been in the shower. Less about cleaning him. More about loving him the way he'd loved her all morning.
She knelt carefully in front of him, drying his good leg before lifting the towel to the smooth skin of his residual limb with the same tenderness he'd shown her only minutes earlier.
The moment she finished he wordlessly grabbed another towel, wrapping it around her shoulders until she disappeared inside it, smiling to himself when only her nose peeked out from the fluffy fabric.
"There."
She giggled at his actions. "I look ridiculous."
"You look adorable."
"You could at least say mysterious. It’s much cooler."
"I'll let you know if you ever pull it off."
She gasped in fake shock.
"You wound me, Dr. Abbott."
"Mm, I'll make a note of that in your chart."
She dissolved into laughter, the bright sound bouncing off the tile. God, he'd never get over the sound of her elation. His favorite sound in the world.
Jack moved himself from the edge of the tub to the closed seat of the toilet, reaching for the clean pair of boxer briefs he'd left on the counter earlier. Balancing easily on the support bar he had installed, he stepped into them before easing himself back onto the closed toilet lid. Without the prosthetic, moving was slower, more deliberate, but his girl noticed how little it seemed to bother him anymore. Years of practice had turned adaptation into routine.
Once Jack was dressed, he stood up, steading himself on the counter.
"I need to grab a couple things from the bedroom."
She frowned.
"I can—"
He was already shaking his head as he reached behind her and the bathroom door where a pair of forearm crutches leaned against the wall. Slipping his arms into the cuffs had become second nature years ago.
“Sweetheart, I’ll be right back.”
He kisses her on his way out. She watched him disappear down the hallway with the familiar rhythmic thunk of the crutches against hardwood.
A few moments later he returned carrying a small bundle tucked beneath one arm.
"I come bearing gifts."
She looked down to find one of his faded Army shirts, a fresh pair of cotton underwear, a pad, and a pair of fuzzy socks she'd accidentally claimed as her own months ago.
She pouts, cooing at her boyfriend’s thoughtfulness and care for her.
Jack couldn't help but smile as he helped her step into the fresh underwear, kneeling just long enough to smooth the fabric back into place. He pressed the pad into her waiting hand before turning politely toward the sink, giving her a moment of privacy.
When she quietly announced she was ready, he pulled one of his faded Army shirts over her head, laughing softly as the sleeves swallowed her hands once again. A pair of fuzzy socks disappeared onto her feet soon after, earning him another sleepy smile that made every ache from his shift worthwhile.
Jack leaned down to steal one lingering kiss, his forehead resting against hers for just a moment before lacing their fingers together.
Breakfast was waiting on the porch by the time they wandered into the kitchen, still wrapped in oversized clothes and damp hair. They ate curled together on the couch beneath a blanket, absentmindedly trading bites from each other's plates, feeding one another while morning sunlight slowly spilled across the hardwood floors.
Somewhere between the last sip of coffee and the final bite of pancakes, Jack felt her growing heavier against his shoulder.
He smiled, gathered her into his arms one last time, waking her up only to take her back to the freshly made bed. Fresh sheets crinkled softly beneath them as Jack settled in next to her, gathering his girl against his chest like he had a hundred times before. His arm found its familiar place around her waist, his fingers absentmindedly tracing slow circles against the cotton of her shirt.
She stared at the morning light spilling through the curtains for a long moment before speaking.
"...I'm sorry I cried so much."
Jack frowned immediately.
"Hey."
He gently touched her face until she was looking at him, brushing one last damp curl away from her face.
"I need you to listen to me."
She nodded.
"You never have to apologize to me for something your body does."
Her eyes shimmered again.
"But it was so messy..."
He smiled sadly, his thumb stroking across her cheek.
"Sweetheart... periods are messy." He shrugged one shoulder. "Life's messy."
His forehead found hers.
"You aren't."
She swallowed hard.
”You're not gross." Another kiss to her forehead. "You're not embarrassing." A kiss to the tip of her nose. "You're not a burden. Not to me."
His hand slipped beneath hers, lacing their fingers together over her stomach. "You're just my girl. I’d do anything for you.”
The words hit somewhere deep inside her, loosening the last little knot of shame she'd been carrying all morning.
"So the next time this happens..." he murmured, "I want you to tell me. I'll wash the sheets, order breakfast, hold you through the cramps..." He smiled, warm and certain. "Whatever you need."
"...Every time?"
Jack looked at her like the answer should've been obvious.
"Every. Single. Time." He punctuated every word with a kiss to her delicate mouth. She tucked herself beneath his chin again, letting out the deepest breath she'd taken all day.
"Love you, Jackie."
His lips brushed her hair one last time.
"I know, sweetheart. I love you, too. Always will."
Jack comes home to find that his sweet girl accidentally bled all over his sheets. She thinks it's the end of the world. Jack thinks his girl is in pain and needs taking care of. They have very different priorities.
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