Kpop Fanfictions

Get Well - Jackson (Got7)

"________," Jackson whines, rolling around on the bed.

You sigh and walk into the bedroom, toothbrush hanging out of your mouth.

"What?" you ask around the toothbrush.

"I'm hot!" he whines again, kicking his legs violently and causing the blanket wad up at the foot of the bed.

You sigh, walking over to him. You rest your hand lightly on his forehead.

"Oh, my poor baby," you coo, smoothing his sweat drenched hair off of his forehead. "You're burning up. You're sweating though so maybe your fever will break."

Jackson looks up at you, his usually bright expressive eyes dull and tired looking. You sigh and rub your nose against his.

"Let me finish brushing my teeth and I'll get you some medicine, okay?" You ask, running your hand along his cheek.

Jackson nods and watches as you make your way out of the room again. You quickly finish brushing your teeth, then reach into the medicine cabinet and pull out some Advil. You grab two then make your way into the living room and grab a glass, filling it with cool water.

When you walk into the bedroom again, Jackson is huddled under the covers violently shivering.

"I-I'm s-s-so c-c-cold," he stutters out, his teeth chattering.

"I know sweetie, this should make it better. Can you sit up?" You ask.

Jackson nods and pushes himself up into a sitting position.

"Ah," you say, holding the two Advil up to his mouth.

Jackson does as he's told, opening his mouth wide. You lay the two pills on his tongue and press the glass to his lips. He takes a drink, letting the cool water lift the bitter tasting pills of his tongue and down his throat. You sit the glass aside and help ease Jackson back into a laying position.

"Do you want me to get the electric blanket?" You ask, smoothing your fingers through his hair again.

Jackson nods and you can't help but think that your usually sexy, charismatic man looks like a little boy. You make your way to the closet and pull the electric blanket off of it's shelf. You plug the cord into the wall, drape the blanket over him and hand him the remote. You watch as one of his shaking hands reaches out from under the warm confines of his blankets and grabs the dial, turning it to the hottest setting.

"Do you want me to call your mama?" You ask, crouching down so that you can look him in they eye.

Jackson nods vigorously then, in stuttered Cantonese, says, "Will you cuddle with me too?"

You smile at him and nod, "Of course, baby," you coo.

Jackson lays back on his mound of pillows content with your answer. You grab your phone from where you left it on the bathroom counter and make your way back to the bed. Jackson slides over so you have room and you slip under the covers. Jackson immediately wraps around you; his leg is tossed carelessly over your hips, one of his arms is wrapped around your waist and his head is resting on your chest, just below your chin. You dial his mom's phone number and set the phone on speaker.

"Hello?" Jackson's mom answers.

"Mama," Jackson whimpers.

"Hi, sweetheart. What's wrong?" She asks, her soft, lilting Cantonese filling the room.

"I'm sick, mama," Jackson says, his voice sounding small and broken.

"My poor baby!" Jackson's mom exclaims, "Is ________ taking care of you?"