Sick Remedies (Reader x Thomas)
Hey! It’s been a while and I’m sorry about that, but have a sick fic!
Your name: submit What is this? // <![CDATA[ function replaceAll(find, replace, str) { return str.replace(new RegExp(find, 'g'), replace); } function myHandler() { var input = document.getElementById("inputTxt").value; document.body.innerHTML = replaceAll('Y/N', document.getElementById("inputTxt").value, document.body.innerHTML); } // ]]>
Your voice was gone. You had been coughing up a lung for what felt like the majority of the night and honestly you wanted to curl into a ball and disappear until you were no longer sick. But that was impossible and you would never be able to simply disappear, otherwise your boyfriend would likely worry himself to death looking for you and possibly get sick himself because of it.
Thomas Jefferson had a way of doing things like that. He liked to pretend he didn’t care at times when in reality he cared all too much. You worried about him more than he worried about you usually because he could be a bit much for others at times.
“I’m here,” you barely managed to say, your voice scratchy and hardly audible because of the scratchiness of it. You were surprised he even heard you as he sat down on the bed near you and rubbed a hand over your back.
“How are you feeling?” he asked you. You glared at him almost, but it lost it’s power when you broke into a coughing fit. You felt like shit, and you doubted you needed to tell him that. Thomas’ eyes grew soft as you glared at him and you looked away, feeling your cheeks heat up just from his expression alone.
When he wasn’t being loud and annoying, Thomas could be kind of… adorable. In a puppy sort of way.
“Do you need any medicine? James was telling me that sometimes cough syrup doesn’t really do anything,” he offered.
“I’ll be fine,” you sighed, though your voice cracked on the middle word and it didn’t really come out at all. Thomas didn’t seem to agree entirely, but there was nothing he could do with you when you got stubborn, and he didn’t want to push his luck while you were sick.
“Fine,” he shrugged. He pushed you over in the bed and then climbed in right behind you, pressing himself against you almost.
“T-Thomas?” you stuttered, surprised at his sudden movements. He never usually did things like this, so it was very strange to have Thomas cuddled up to you. “You’re gonna get sick.”
“I won’t,” he responded, his arms around you and keeping you held close to him. Thomas pressed his face into your hair.
“Thomas…” you felt so warm against him. Not in the uncomfortable, feverish, way but in something of a “cold winter night fixed with a warm blanket” way. You found yourself drifting towards sleep.
“Good night, Y/N.” Thomas’ voice was so soothing… “You’ll feel better in the morning.”
And when Thomas said that, you truly believed it.
