@Spidey_vsp 

REQUEST FROM /\: can u do one where Tom is sick this time and the reader helps him by comforting him and rubbing his tummy when he is in a lot of pain and supporting him while he's puking and cute stuff like that.

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"Yn... my tummy hurts..." Tom groaned for the fifth time that hour. You let your head fall back onto the sofa with a small sigh, "And my reply won't change even if you ask me again. You shouldn't have had your Halloween sweets, my Halloween sweets or your brothers. My dear friend, you are gonna have the stomach pains from hell." Somehow... you felt a little... cocky? You and Tom had made a pact when you first became friends: If either one of you got sick, then the other would help along with some teasing. Last time, you had a big ass cheesecake which set off your mild lactose intolerance. Tom turned onto his side and faced you with wide puppy eyes, "Before you even ask, no cuddles. You did this to yourself."

§§§

It took you all of 2 hours after that to cuddle with him and lend him your heat pad for your stomach. After Tom had used his acting skills to cry (somehow you could smell bullshit) saying about how he wanted you to massage his head, you eventually shut him up by lending him your period cramp heat pad. You then fell to his puppy eyes and cuddled with him on the sofa. Tom groaned again and you sighed, "I swear to god, Tom, if you groan again I will beat you to death with this pad." Tom huffed a laugh but ended in a puffy moan, "I now understand what you go through." You raised an eyebrow, "oh?" Tom nodded, "Period camps are the same as this." You laughed, "As if! No, the are not the same thing. Whatever you're feeling, multiply that by 100 and your still not close."

§§§

The only time you ever envisaged clearing up a pukey blanket was when your future kids threw up on it.

Not when your best friend did.

But, sometime life throws shit at you.

So, here you were. Standing at the sink soaking the puke covered blanket with some soap and hot water while Tom threw up around 4 tones worth of sweets in the bathroom next door. You bit back a shiver as your finger brushed up against something hard. (God, you hoped it was just a hard part of the blanket) When you couldn't see the puke anymore, you threw it into the washing machine to get rid of the smell and stain.

The house was dangerously quiet so you called, "Are you dead?" There was a loud moan, "No, but I wish I was..."

§§§

Less than 20 minutes later, you and Tom were curled up on the sofa watching some crappy ROM-COM.

You could hear faint snoring so you turned the tv off and curled into Tom's side.

The both of you fell asleep cuddled in each other's arms.