Bob Velseb x Reader and Headcanons! (Spooky Month)

Common Ground: Chptr: 9 Hangover

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..."