#made this after seeing someone complain at the lack of tess x readers where joel isnt involved

[pubbybutch]

I’ll Hold Your Hands (They’re Just like Ice) - Tess Servopoulos x Sick! Reader

SOOOO... this is the first fic I’m actually posting on Tumblr in a lonnnnnng time, so if y’all have got any suggestions that would be great! IF YOU SEE SPELLING MISTAKES - SQUINT.

Word Count: 1.1K - She’s a lil shorty.

Minors, Men and Fuckheads dni 💚

(Tess is so hot, she has my little gay heart going pitter-patter.)

The Boston QZ wasn't the cleanest place in the world or what was left of it, and with the snow starting to cover more and more of the pavements it was only a matter of time before one of you got sick. The FEDRA agents had begun to pick up a bit of a trail Tess and Joel had been careless enough to leave, so you’d been picking up extra shifts shoveling snow off the roads to get enough cards to sustain the three of you while your partner and her right-hand man laid low. The winter gloves that you’d salvaged a couple years back from a strip mall just off I-95 while on a run out to Lincoln were threadbare but served you better than no protection from the bitter ice, the winter before having claimed many a toe or finger from those around you as frostbite set in, and your boots weren't much better. It was only a matter of time before you fell ill. And ill did you fall.

Coughing up your lungs, a fever that was practically cooking you from the inside out had left you bedridden. A large plastic bowl filled with water sat on the bedside table with a spare rag floating in it, a light sheet covered you as you lay sweating buckets while the itchy top quilt sat balled around your feet. Floating in and out of consciousness, mind fuzzy and body preoccupied with trying to beat the sickness, you don’t notice the hesitant opening of the bedroom door nor the soft footfall of Tess as she makes her way to you. A gentle hand comes to rest against your forehead and has you bolting up at the unexpected touch.

 “Easy sweetheart, it’s jus’ me. Gotta check you’re not completely burning up…” Her voice is soft and gravely as she moves the damp cloth from your forehead and replaces it with the fresh one from the bowl, the cool wetness now coating your brow instantly provides you with great relief as Tess’ firm hands guide your body back down against the pillows. She fiddles around you, tucking the light sheets and heavy quilt taut against your near comatose frame, the tightness and the overwhelming heat from too many layers causes you to mumble under your breath, “...’s too much Tess…”

She just smiles and presses a chaste kiss to your lips before returning to full height, “You know as well as anyone that we need to break that fever, sweet cheeks.” You watch as she draws the moth-eaten curtains to block out as much light as possible before turning and heading out into the kitchen where you catch a slip of the broad shoulders of Joel sitting at the table hunched over as she closes the door gently behind herself. The large fluffy flakes of snow pelting against the window and swirling around outside the window mesmerize your slowed brain and lull you into a dreamless inky dark sleep.

A tentative weight being placed on the end of the mattress wakes you, rubbing sleep from your eyes your gaze meets Tess’, her looking at you with unfathomable worry. “Hey again, sleepyhead, how’s your head?” 

“I-I,” your voice cracks from disuse, clearing your throat, you try again. “I’m fine, Tess, promise. Just a Lil bit sor-” A cough racks your lungs, forcing you up from your lying position, bent chest over legs as you struggle to catch your breath. Lithe arms wrap around you, pulling you straight and supporting your head on a bony shoulder as one hand moves soothingly up and down your spine and the other scratches deep into your scalp as air finally floods into your lungs. “That’s m’ girl, easy now, big breaths.” Tess’ soft encouragement falls on deaf ears as you breathe her in, split ends tickling your nose as they peek out from the bandana sitting across her head. The two of you sit there content in the comfortable silence, the sounds filling the room are soft breathing and the rustling of hair as Tess’ nails dig into your head, relieving the tension from your forehead and clearing the fog from your mind.

The peace is broken by a knock on the door.

“What ya want, Joel?” Her voice shaking you as her chest reverberates under your ear, and you’d slumped over asleep on her without realizing it.

“Soup’s done, tha’s all.”

“Come on sweetheart, lean up a little for me.” She positions you so that you’re sitting up flush against the headboard of the creaky old bed, arms by your sides. “Do you wanna come out to eat? Or will I bring it to you?” Bring what? Oh! Dinner… 

“I don't know if I could eat, Tess…”

“I’ll bring it to ya, you’re gonna eat.”

Before you can argue she’s up and gone. All you can do is listen as she talks to Joel, you can’t make out her wording exactly but she’s concerned you can tell by the tone and the lack of anything but grunts of agreement on Joel’s part. The clattering of dishes and cutlery are the only indicators of what stage everything is at on the other side of the grubby chipped door.

The creaking of the door hinge pulls your attention away from the now-blizzarding snow outside the window. Tess holds a small bowl in one hand and a spoon in the other, she sits next to you on the bed. 

“Tess… I’m not hung-”

“You’re eating, no arguing.” The order comes clear as day, and you obey. You always do. A small spoon dips into the mix of vegetables and broth, before the woman in front of you brings the spoon to your mouth. Gently placing it inside your mouth once it opens, the heat of the liquid warms you down to your toes. Tess repeats the same process, resting every once in a while until the bowl is empty and your stomach feels full.

“You’re gonna feel better after that, sweetheart. And if you don’t, I’ll eat my fuckin’ hat.” She sets the bowl on the bedside table before climbing into the bed next to you. Curling up into her side, head on her chest, the sound of her heart beating and the air entering and leaving her lungs lulls you over to sleep as she fixes the quilt around your shoulders.

As you sleep, belly full and sniffles diminished, Joel peeks his head round the door frame and looks to Tess, only to find her out for the count as well. A smile pulling at her lips and her brow unfurrowed, seemingly content with you in her arms.