Jacob Sartorius Imagines

When He's Sick (cute)

hm being sick doesn't sound cute but idk what other category to put this in SJKJNSL but enjoy i guess

Jacob's leg was hitched over your stomach, as he had an arm thrown across your chest. His hand cupped your cheek as he snored softly into your neck. His body felt hot and sweaty, even though he was snuggled on top of the duvet in just a pair of his boxers.

A bucket was placed on the floor beside his side of the bed, with a glass of water and a few headache tablets sitting on the bedside cabinet. The red luminous numbers on your alarm clock read 2:48 and your eyes had stayed open since the first bout of sickness Jacob had obtained.

Midnight was when he'd woken up, pushing the covers from his body and running into the bathroom. Waking you up in the process, knocking your sleeping pattern from you as you listened to his retching echoing around the bedroom.

You could hear his tummy churning as he shuffled over onto his other side, the warmth from his body being lost as he propped himself up from the bed with an arm. His head rose from the pillow he'd rolled onto, as he flicked on the lamp on the bedside table.

"Jacob, baby? Are you feeling okay?" You wondered, rolling onto your back as you rubbed your palm across his bare yet muscled back. He felt sticky, glistening beneath the light of the lamp. "Baby? If you need to throw up, it's okay. Just get it out," you whispered, as you shuffled on the bed and sat upright and face his back.

Your legs crossing into the pretzel shape and your knees touched his back. One of your palms cupped his hip showing from the waistband of his boxers, as your other glided up and down his back soothingly.

His hair was messy and disheveled,  sticking up in all directions. His back muscles were tense underneath your fingertips.

Jacob had never been one to be sick in front of anyone. He liked to lock himself in the bathroom and hunch over the toilet, and be on his own rather than have someone else watch him in discomfort.

You were never one to handle sickness. You never took it well. You could sit there and comfort people, but when it came to having to clear it up or empty buckets, that's when you were a goner.

Jacob tried his hardest not to let you know he was ill, but your ears were trained to listen for any displeased sound coming from his body. Whether it be a cough, a sniffle, or a rumble rising from the pit of his stomach, you were always able to hear it.

"I'm fine, babe. Just...," he sighed softly, turning his head so he could look over his shoulder at you, "I'm okay. Y'know, you can go to bed? I'll be fine on my own. I want you to get some good sleep," he whispered, and even though he was keeping his voice low, you could still hear the strain and the slight crack leaving his throat.

"Baby..."

"I'm fine, y/n. Please, go to sleep. I want you to sleep, now," he begged, as he flopped onto his back, and threw an arm over his stomach. His boxers were low on his waist and his breathing was ragged. "Please..." He whispered, his voice cracking softly, as he clenched a fist into the covers.

"Jacob... Baby, please. It's okay. I'm your girlfriend. Let me take care of you," you pleaded, as you took hold of the hand he had resting on his torso, his palm sweating and wet.

As you scanned his face, you watched as a tear rolled down the side of his face, falling from the corner of his eye and dribbling down by his temple. "Oh, J..."

"I hate being sick. I don't want to be sick," he sobbed, as he took his hand from your hold and dug his palms into his eyes. You watched his skin becoming wet from the moisture of his tears. "I don't like this, I want it to stop. Please..." he begged to no one in particular, feeling you swiftly lean over his warm body.