Sick - Hobie x sick!Reader
wc: 1.1k ish
cw: sickness, just a cold no blood or vom
as always i am not perfect and do not really proofread so please let me know if there are any issues
I do not give permission for any of my works to be copied or inserted into ai
masterlist
You wake up, joints aching, skin slick with sweat, your hair stuck to your forehead and your throat sore. You check your clock, and it looks like around 6:15 but you’re struggling to figure out if it’s the morning or the evening. You feel around blindly on your bedside table, until you manage to find your phone. You press buttons randomly, squinting from the light of the phone. Eventually its starts to ring.
“Hello?” Gwen Stacy’s voice is projected through the receiver as you let out a squeal.
“Gwen? Where are you?” you ask loudly, coughing obnoxiously into the receiver.
“I’m in the spider society, are you okay?”
“Are you telling a lies?” You say in a sing-sing voice.
“No honey, I’m really in the spider society.”
“Then how come I can hear you in my bedroom? My bedroom isn’t a spider society Gwendy”
“I’m on your phone honey, but my body is in the spider society.”
“Oooooohhhhh, I know that.”
“Well done” She says gently, but with a clear sarcastic tone.
You cough loudly again.
“I think I’m dead” you tell her with complete certainty.
“Are you sure honey? Dead people don’t usually talk.” She’s placating you, but you’re too full of feverish delusions to notice.
“Yes they do, there’s a show called the talking dead?”
“Its the walking dead.”
“No it’s not silly, dead people can’t walk.”
“But they can talk?”
“Yes silly, bye bye”
“Wait-“ Gwen calls but the line goes dead.
————————————
Hobie is with Miles and Pavitr, swinging around and having fun, racing from building to billboard to rooftop with them when his comms crackle to life.
“Hobie, its Gwen”
“Sup Gwen, you good?”
“I am, but your girl isn’t. Do you know she’s sick?
“I know she’s got a cold, yeah.”
“I think you should swing round and check on her, she sounds off, a bit delusional. She said she was dead.”
“Yeah, sounds worse than when I left, I’ll swing by, thanks for the heads up.”
Theres a quiet affirmation on the line before it goes dead. Hobie shouts to Miles and Pavitr, letting them know that he’s diverting to check on you, and that he’ll catch up.
————————————
Hobie lands of the fire escape outside your apartment and opens the window. You’re in bed, rolled up in the duvet, his sweater grasped in your hand. He can see the hair stuck to the back of your neck and your forehead. You’re flushed and as he walks over to you he can see how chapped your lips are. He’s a lot more concerned than he was when Gwen first called him, and he can feel the heat radiating off your forehead before his hand touches your skin. Your face scrunches up and you open your eyes.
“Are you here to snatch me?” You say, your face in a sad pout.
“No luv, It’s Hobie.”
“No it’s not, Hobie doesn’t wear skinny pyjamas and a mask, and Hobie has hair.” You nod as you speak, as if to convince him more. Hobie takes off his mask and your eyes widen. “Oh my goodness you look just like my Hobie!”
“That’s because I am your Hobie, now unwrap yourself, you have a fever and you’re gonna overheat.”
“I don’t wannaaaaaa”
“Mkay then.” Hobie lifts you up and unwraps the blankets from around you. He carries you to the bathroom and sits you on the toilet as he starts to run a bath. You shiver, frowning at him as you tremble.
“I don’t want a bath!” You whine, “It’s wet and i don’t like wet!” Hobie watches you, and he rubs his hand over your knee, his other hand in the bath, checking the temperature of the water. His heart aches as you whine.
“I know luv, but you’re gonna feel a lot better after. Have ya taken any cold n flu medicine?”
“Only when you made me.” Hobie’s eyes widen, he last made you take medicine 6 hours ago. He gets some sleepy cold and flu medicine from the bathroom cabinet, and makes you take it, much to your dismay. Eventually the bath fills and he makes sure its at the right temperature before helping you undress and lowering you in. You sigh in relief, and make him hold you the whole time. He uses a cup to pour water over you hair and washes it gently. His long fingers scrub slowly into the roots, the shampoo on his hands foaming up into sweet smelling suds on your head.
“What flavour is it?” You ask him quietly, docile and sleepy from the medication and the bath.
“It says it’s raspberry scented.” He replies as he washes out the second round of shampoo, quietly hoping you don’t try to eat it.
“It smells nice. I like that.” You tell him, nodding emphatically and he has to avoid pouring water down your face with the movement.
“You got it from the shops, so good job lovie.” You grin, and close your eyes.
“You’re more quiet than my Hobie. My Hobie does concerts and he tries to ‘dismantle capitalism’. He doesn’t do bath time unless it’s sexy bath time.” You muse, looking up at Hobie.
“You’re good at dismantling capitalism luv, every time I bring you with me you do great.” He laughs, before his tone shifts to something more gentle. “Do you want more bath time that isn’t sexy bath time?”
“Yeah sometimes, my Hobie does do face masks though, I like that, you don’t do that mister other Hobie. I do like sexy bath time too, I think I like sex.” He nods, thinking out how he can improve in the future, before laughing as you think aloud about how much you like sex.
“Ya like a good shag huh?” He asks and you giggle, as if you were scandalised by the question. Eventually he gets all the products out of your hair and lifts you back up and into a towel. He wraps you in it and you sit on the toilet seat again as he dries and dresses you. He puts fresh pyjamas on you and lets you nap on the sofa while he changes the sweat soaked sheets. He radios to Miles and Pavitr to tell them he isn’t coming back to patrol. He decides Miguel doesn’t need, or deserve to know his whereabouts. Being soft for one night doesn’t get rid of all his morals. He pulls on an old band t-shirt, one of the first he ever got. Its old and worn with holes in it, and you can barely see what band it is anymore, but it’s his. He walks back out in that and boxers and you cheer as you wake up.
“Hobie you’re home! A man that looked just like you was here in tight pyjamas but he didn’t snatch me don’t worry.” You tell him and he chuckles, carrying you back to bed.
“Sounds proper mad luv, now shush and sleep.”
Thanks for reading