Jack Gilinsky imagines

little sickling.

Request: I was wondering if you could do an insanely cute Gilinsky imagine where y/n is sick or it could be the other way around

"'I don't need a jacket, Y/N,' he said. 'I'm immune!' he said." I mocked Jack as I handed him yet another box of Kleenex. His third one, I'd say.

"This is the first time I've gotten sick from rain. Shut up." He muttered in all his nasally-voiced glory. I rolled my eyes, lifting the trash can for him to rid all of his waste.

"Well there wouldn't have been a first time if you would have listened to me." I retorted. I was just looking to hear an apology, if I'm honest. He glared at me through half-open eyes before a sudden coughing fit washed over him.

"Fine.. Fine." He sniffled, "You were right, and I was wrong. I should've listened to you." His words were slow and drawn out, setting him in a sort of zombie-like character. Worried and a little bit repulsed, I gave him another tissue and used the back of my hand to feel all over his warm face.

"Thank you for that; I was waiting to hear it." I smiled just to lighten up the mood. "Now let me take care of you. Are you cold?" I asked him as I got up to get the thermometer from the connected bathroom.

"A little bit."

"Well your face is on fire." I noted, looking back at him while searching the medicine cabinet. Once I found everything I needed, I scurried back into the room and dropped everything on the bed. "Alright, put this in your mouth for a bit, baby." I instructed, handing him the thermometer before sliding back to the bathroom to get him a cool washcloth. When I returned, I switched him the washcloth for the thermometer and checked his temperature. "102 degrees.." I frowned as I sifted through the various medicine bottles I had brought out. "I've got something for the headache and fever, but do you want something to eat? I can make some soup." After a rather painful-sounding string of coughs, he drew a sharp breath.

"Yes, please." I nodded quickly and hurried out the room to accommodate to his needs. I was in and out of the room, bringing blankets, water and juice, and the whole lot. Once I made the soup, I think he had everything he needed.

"How are you feeling?" I asked as I balanced the soup on a tray. He sniffled, a weary smile spreading across his dry lips.

"You're so cute." He attempted a small laugh, only to have it avert into a harsh cough. "I'm not sure if it's getting any better, but I feel tired as shit."

"Yeah, the medicine's supposed to make you drowsy. You'll probably be knocked out before you even finish the soup." I explained as I set up the tray over his lap. After everything was in place, I sat at the edge of the bed and stirred the soup before lifting a spoonful up for him. I slipped the soup between his lips, and he coughed after swallowing. "Too hot?" I questioned in worry.

"No, no, you're good. I love it. Thanks, babe."

Like I predicted, before Jack could even finish the soup, his eyelids began to droop, but I could tell he was fighting the urge to sleep. I set the food aside and pulled his blankets up for him.

"Get some rest, Jack." I brushed his hair back and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

"I'm.. not even tired..." He murmured, his words contradicting his appearance. I laughed a bit, continuing to play with his hair until he finally began to give in to sleep.

"I'll still be here when you wake up." I whispered, and within moments, his eyes closed for the last time, and he was fast asleep.

His nap lasted a mere short hour, and in the meantime, I was able to tidy his room up a little. He woke up in a coughing fit, and I rushed to his side, grabbing the glass of water from the nightstand for him.