A/N: Warning:
Vomiting is involved. There are no detailed descriptors of the vomit itself, just the feeling of throwing up and the reader actually puking.

---

You pulled yourself out of Bob's grip. You tried to be gentle but you were running out of time. You were desperately holding it in, swallowing constantly, and pushing it down.

Bob groaned and adjusted in his sleep, turning his body away from you. 

You quickly rolled off the bed and stumbled your way to the bathroom, turning on the lights, and pulling the door closed behind you. You weren't even sure if it closed all the way but you didn't care. 

Lifting up the toilet seat, you then sat on your toilet rug. You desperately tried to keep everything down. You hated throwing up, just like the next person. It's been so long, you don't even remember when you actually vomited the last time. You have never really done anything that will cause you to throw up. And if you did, you always just swallowed it down or drank some water and it was gone. 

Closing your eyes, you took in some deep breaths and continued to swallow, pushing down the pressure in your throat. But no matter what you did, the feeling didn't go away. 

It became too overwhelming as the pressure pushed through. You let out a gag and puked out the contents in your stomach. Your body didn't even give you a moment and you threw up again and again. 

Once it stopped, you were heaving. You spat in your toilet and flushed it. But you weren't done yet. 

You continued to throw up hard, you thought you might as well turn into a werewolf if you kept this up. 

You began regretting drinking so much. You knew you should have stopped by the fifth shot. But you kept on drinking. 

"Ugh, never again..." you murmured to yourself. 

The thought of alcohol made you feel queasy and you dumped out the contents in your stomach again and into the toilet. 

'Fuck, do I have alcohol poisoning?! No, I don't think so...'

As if it wasn't getting worse, Bob walked into the bathroom with squinted and tired eyes. 

"Jesus, you sound like a cat throwin' up a hairball in 'ere."

"Thanks, Bob..." you croaked out. Bob just seemed to stand there. You felt uncomfortable with him being there. You didn't want him to see you be like this. "Can you leave so you don't have to watch?"

You felt the pressure coming up again but you held it, waiting for Bob to leave. 

"Please? Hurry up. Go."

"Alright. Alright."

Bob left you, you finally took the opportunity to throw up, making a loud gag sound, followed by a cough. 

You spit into the toilet and flushed it once again. You still felt like shit. You let out another hurl but nothing was coming out anymore. Even though you felt like there was more. 

Bob came back and you glanced up at him. He was holding a cup of water and walked over to you. He sat at the edge of the tub and handed you the cup. "Here."

"Thank you," you said, barely above a whisper, taking the cup off him. You took some gulps of water as it burned your throat. The water helped you feel only a little less sick. 

"Ya shouldn't have drank so much," Bob commented with a chuckle. 

You stared down into the toilet bowl, feeling embarrassed. "Yeah, I know..."

Feeling the intense urge to throw up again came up and you leaned in. You ended up just puking up the water you drank and the contents within your stomach. Or whatever was left. 

You felt a hand on your back, making you freeze up. Bob was rubbing his palm in comforting circles. Even in a moment like this, you felt your face heating up hotter and your heart pumping faster, and it was not from the intense vomiting. 

"I think...I think I'm done," you murmured.

"Are ya sure?"

You weren't sure, but you nodded. 

You began to stand up and flushed down the toilet. You quickly went over to the sink and brushed your teeth while Bob headed back to bed. 

Once you got most of the nasty taste out of your mouth, you walked back to your room and lay on the mattress. The uneasy and heavy feeling was still there, but you decided to just ignore it and try and go to sleep it off

Bob placed an arm over your body and went back to sleep. You felt exhausted and fell asleep too. Although, before you knew it, you had woken up again after an hour. So you had to run to the bathroom. 

And once again, Bob was up with you. This happened another two more times, at this point, you didn't care if Bob watched. You were more worried about just puking up your actual stomach by now.

But slowly, you started to feel a little bit better. Even though your throat was sore as well as the muscles in your body. 

Looking over at Bob, you saw how tired he looked he sat on the edge of the tub, looking at you as he rubbed your back. 

"You should go to bed," you told him. 

He shook his head as he continued rubbing circle motions. "I ain't goin' to bed until yer done and feelin' better."

You were glad that your face was already flushed red, sighing, you just nodded. Your voice hurt too much and you were also just too tired to argue back. 

The familiar pressure came up once again and you were now throwing up one more time, once you were finished a wave of relief came over you. It was finally over. At least, you hoped so. 

"Ugh, I feel better," you groaned. Looking over at Bob, he just has an unconvinced eyebrow raise. 

"You said that the last two times."

"I know, I know, but...I'm really sure now."

"Alright... If ya say so. I'm not gettin' up the third time," Bob said through a yawn. 

You gave him a weak chuckle. "I don't expect you to."

He placed a hand on your shoulder, giving you a comforting rub. "I'm just kiddin' lambchop. I told ya, I'm ain't goin' to bed until yer done and feelin' better."

You smiled at him and nodded. "Thanks."

You wanted to ask him why. But you decided that it wasn't a good time to ask something like that right now. 

After flushing the toilet the last time, Bob led you back to bed and the both of you went under the comfort of your shared blanket. 

You were finally able to go to sleep for once and didn't wake up at all, which you were glad about.

Once waking up though, you had a terrible headache and held your head. You didn't feel good overall. You groaned and curled yourself into a ball, moving away from Bob.

But something felt off. Something felt missing. Turning your head, you noticed Bob wasn't in your bed anymore. 

You sat up, but when you did, a sudden rush of pain hits you. You let out a long hiss and groan. You just pushed yourself through the pain and got out of bed. 

As you left your room, your dog jumped on you, giving you an excited greeting. You gave her your best smile as the pain still throbbed horribly in your head. You heard some sounds coming from the kitchen and waddled yourself toward the noise. 

Looking in, you saw Bob by the sink with the water running. 

"Good morning," you grumbled. 

Turning his head, he looked at you with an amused expression. "I think ya mean afternoon, sweetheart."

Looking at the clock on the wall, it was 2:47 PM. 

"Oh, shit," you sighed, a wave of pain came and you winced, but you tried to hide it. "Ugh, anyway, what are you doing?"

Bob seemed to notice you were in pain though. He turned off the water and began drying his hands. "You should still get some rest darlin'. Trust me, I can tell ya have a hangover, " he chuckled. 

"But--"

You had chores you had to do. It was something you did every weekend. Or at least tried to do. 

Although, Bob knew this and walked over to you. "I got everythin' taken care of. Now, c'mon, back to bed with ya," Bob interrupted. He gently grabbed your hand and walked you back to the bedroom. 

You were too much in pain to argue back with him, so, you just let him do whatever he wanted. 

Back in your comfortable bed, Bob left to get you some painkillers and a cup of water. 

As you leaned your back against the backboard of the bed, waiting patiently, your phone suddenly buzzed. You picked it up and noticed a message that appeared on the notification bar.

It was a text from Todd. Opening it up you read it. 

"Hey! It's me, Todd! From the pet store? I was wondering if you want 2 have that play date today?"

As you were about to text back, Bob came in the room with your water and painkillers. 

You turned off your phone and placed it down on your lap as you smiled up at Bob and thanked him. Your phone buzzed again, lighting up against the blanket, but you just casually ignored it for now and focused on Bob. You weren't going to be rude and just start texting back. 

He seemed to also hear it too. But he ignores it as well. "I'mma go cook ya up somethin' light."

"Okay," you replied, nodding. 

Bob leaned in and kissed you on your cheek with a soft smile on his face. You blushed and your heart raced, causing your headache to worsen. 

He stood back up and left the bedroom again. You glanced down at your phone and began texting back, telling him you weren't feeling too well. But you were willing to reschedule. 

Once the text was sent, Todd replied fairly quickly. 

"Ah, sorry to hear that but I'm working overtime for the next couple of weeks. Because Christmas is coming up soon and gotta go get gifts and all that 😵💫"

'Shit'

That's when you realized Christmas was already around the corner and will be here in a few weeks and you haven't decorated or anything. You began to feel stressed and overwhelmed. 

You squeezed your eyes shut as a wave of pain hits you again. You took another drink of water from your cup and sighed. 

Looking back at your phone you replied. Letting him know it was fine and that you guys could find some other time. 

And with that, you decided to lay down on your back, placing your head against the nice cool pillow, and close your eyes, hoping that you could sleep the hangover away.