#vomit fic

oh my gosh, just think

someone who stuffed themselves suffers from food poisoning also, and they're trying not to hurl but their caretaker is teasing them, trying to get them to think of gross things of whatever the food was that made them so sick

like just think

-

Jason grumbled from where he was walking next to Blake. Out of every single person on the team, he was partnered with him. The coaches must hate him or something.

It's their annual team trip to the amusement park. Normally would have been a great time with his friends and everyone, but then he had to get stuck with the most stuck-up person on the team; Blake.

"I don't see why we can't just split up," Jason mutters. His posture is slumped, arms tucked into the pockets of his pants.

Blake sighs in response to the third time in the last five minutes those words have been uttered by Jason's mouth. "Again, we were told to stick by one teammate in case of an emergency."

Orphee gripped the toilet seat, this other hand was balled in a fist on his stomach and he was gagging and coughing. He had been nauseated since breakfast and decided to just try to get it over with the hopes of feeling better after, he began to puke up small mouthfuls of yellow and green but it wasn’t making him feel better, he pushed and coughed until all that was left was spit and acid. He cleaned up and walked out of the stall.

[A/N: This was fun! Morgan is a TA for a big music history lecture, as well as a vocal tutor for younger underclassmen, so this fit him pretty well!]

When Morgan’s voice cracked on the very first note he sang, the group knew something was up. But he cleared his throat and kept going, and they dismissed it. When it happened again, Avi held a hand up to stop the rehearsal, and the instruments faded one by one into silence. He insisted he was fine. We can keep going, he’d said, but within five minutes he darted out of the room without a word of explanation, leaving the rest of the band confused and worried.

“Do you think he’s okay?” Elizabeth asked. “Should we go check on him?”

“I’d give him a few minutes. You know how he is,” Senan said, but his own eyes darted toward the door, brows clearly knitted together in concern.

“It’s probably the fuckin’ nor-.. Noro-…” Adam hesitated, searching for the word. “Norovirus!” He finally exclaimed. “It’s been goin’ around the underclass halls, and he said one of his students was sick at their desk the other day. Poor fucker had to clean it up.”

This earned sympathetic hums from the rest of the group, before they fell into an awkward silence. Shortly, the sound of muffled heaves came through shared bathroom wall.

“Definitely not okay, then,” Elizabeth said with a grimace.

Another silence followed. Adam plucked at the strings on his bass, and Senan shuffled his feet, unsure what to do.

“I’m gonna go check on him,” Avi said finally, before sweeping out of the room. They knocked lightly on the door of the bathroom, but when they didn’t get a response other than retching, they tried to door handle. It swung open easily, just as the red-faced Morgan spewed a massive torrent of sick into the toilet, face ducking into the bowl as it thundered into the water. He came back up with a gasp, and Avi gathered his dreads back from his face.

“Shit, Morgan,” they breathed as another plume splattered noisily into the basin.

“God,” Morgan croaked when he could finally get a breath. “I think– urp!– I think I might be sick,” he said wryly, wiping the tears of exertion from his cheeks. He reached for the box of tissues, but had to duck back into the toilet to vomit again.

“Understatement of the millenium,” Avi said, placing the box next to him and patting his back as he choked on a bit of sick that got lodged in this throat.

He shuddered under their slender fingers, but that last bout seemed to have emptied him out and he collapsed back against the bathroom wall.

“See, this is why I don’t go to college,” Avi said, earning a halfhearted chuckle from Morgan as he cleaned himself up and pitched the soiled Kleenex into the toilet when he was finished.

-

The bus ride back is obnoxiously bumpy and the thought of committing mass murder crosses Blake's mind at the laugh Jason lets out from beside him at the movement. First person would be Jason on the sheer principle of how annoying he has been for all the years he has known him. Second would be Jesse for making them have to sit next to each other for "team bonding". Third is the Coach for approving that decision. Fourth is the bus driver for making what is supposed to be a normal drive back from their game absolutely hell.

As if whatever higher power just wanted to laugh at him further, the second the last thought crossed his mind, the bus ran over another pothole. The bump jerked everyone forward, knocking Blake into the seat in front of him. Effectively snapping him out of his thoughts as his face made contact with the scratchy fabric. As if to add insult to injury, Jason turned to look at him at just the right time to see it happen.

Jason burst out into laughter, attracting the attention of the people in front of them, as they were seated in the absolute back of the bus. Tavin's head popped up over the headrest, questioning Jason on what he found so funny.

Blair and Dakota have been eating healthier and hitting the gym more to prep for their wedding. They’re committed but it totally sucks, so they decide to allow themselves one cheat day every other week. They pick up all their favorite snacks, junk food, desserts, etc, and usually spend the day pigging out, binging Netflix, and cuddling. Blair pigs out more than usual because Dakota surprises her with her favorite *insert food*. She packs herself to the absolute max, feeling sleepy and content even with her belly the fullest it’s ever been. Unfortunately, while Blair was busy filling her belly to the brim, her belly was busy coming down with the stomach flu she’d unknowingly caught earlier that week. NOTE: Her belly is bigger than it’s ever been, sickness bloat on top of the food, all of it loudly roaring and gurgling nonstop. It’s gonna be a long night…

Hello 🙊anon! Thank you so much for being patient since I know this request took a long time to be answered. I hope you and everybody who asked to see Blair next likes it. 💙

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Blair decided she wasn’t going to go overboard with this cheat day. Maybe one bowl of chips and a can of pop. That would be enough. She’d been feeling proud of her progress as the wedding day got closer and closer. She was excited about showing off her toned arms in her dress. The muscles in her shoulders and biceps encouraged her to keep this streak of good habits going. 

And honestly, she wasn’t in dire need of this cheat day. Sure, it was going to be nice to eat junk food with Dakota while they watched The Queen’s Gambit, but the Queen was still going to dominate the chess board whether Blair indulged in sweets or not. Their night of Netflix and cuddles was all she needed to feel satisfied. 

Usually, Blair would be vibrating with excitement as the cheat day got closer, but she’d been feeling sluggish and heavy throughout the week. Though her muscles were looking good, she wasn’t feeling 100%. Junk food would only weigh her down more. Yeah, it was decided; this would be a small night of indulgences.

And then that mindset when out the window as soon as Dakota unveiled what he’d been making her. She came home to the smell of cheese melting in the air. She too began to melt. All that stubborn refusal to indulge sloughed right off her toned shoulders when she saw the mac and cheese bubbling on the stove. Suddenly, her mouth watered, and her body craved something comforting and warm. After a tiring week, she realized that letting herself enjoy food might be exactly what needed. 

“Babe, you shouldn’t have,” she told Dakota as they prepared binge food for the binge watching. 

“Yes, I should have, and I did.” He kissed her cheek as he handed her a bowl of pure happiness. “I know this week hasn’t been the best at the gym. You’ve been pushing yourself so hard, and I can see it paying off. You deserve this break.” 

He was right. Blair needed this. Two weeks ago, she was smashing personal records, but she could feel herself slowing down. The last three days at the gym showed that she was getting tired. It was time for a break—a break filled with cheese, chocolate, and salty snacks.

So, they watched a young girl kick ass at chess while melting into the couch. Dakota began feeding Blair at one point because she was too tired to reach for another brownie. She licked the chocolate off his fingers and sighed. “I’m so full.” 

“Nah, I’ve seen you do more,” Dakota said. 

“Well, it fits with the theme of the week which is ‘I could have done more’. More reps, more time…” Blair trailed off as movement in her stomach made her place a hand over her abdomen. Despite Dakota’s insistence, she couldn’t eat anymore. Her belly was full with mac and cheese, chips, and pop. 

As soon as she’d taken that first bite, she knew it was going to be a glorious cheat day. 

It had been a good day…for ten minutes. Then she got full, and she got full fast. Her stomach protested a lot sooner than it should have. “I’m sorry for being negative. I thought tonight would cheer me up.” 

Dakota placed his hand over hers, on the mound that was her stomach. “Hey, it’s all good. You’re allowed to have these days. You wanna talk about what’s keeping you down?” 

“I just—” she shifted around on the couch, trying to find the best position for her bloated belly. “I feel off. I don’t have as much energy and I’m so fucking sore.” 

“Sore from working out?” 

“No, it feels different.” She didn’t know how to explain it, but it was almost like the soreness that comes from the flu or a fever. She wanted to try to put her thoughts into words, but her stomach was talking enough for the both of them. The organ let out a loud gurgle and followed it up with a hearty belch that made her shiver. She quickly covered her mouth as Dakota chuckled. “God, my stomach hurts.” 

Dakota ran his palm across her bloated belly. He let his thumb glide beneath the waist band of her pants, feeling the crest of her belly. He followed the slope down, amazed at how swollen it was. Her skin was warm. Very. “Bee, your stomach is so bloated and noisy.” 

“I’m sorry.” 

“No, don’t apologize.” He traced up the opposite direction now, again letting his fingers follow the curve. Her belly dipped sharply towards her ribs and chest. “I didn’t see you eat that much.” 

“I don’t know why it’s so upset,” she moaned low in her throat until a pocket of air started to come up. She swallowed thickly but couldn’t make the pressure go away. The burp escaped loudly and wetly. It took her belly from overly full to outright nauseous. “Ugh, Kota, I feel sick to my stomach.” 

“Do you want to move to the bathroom?” 

Moving sounded like the worst possible idea. She imagined her tummy bouncing up and down, sending the contents sloshing into her esophagus. “No…I don’t know. I just want to feel better.” 

Dakota could hear in her voice that she was beginning to worry. “Alright, we’ll stay here and I’ll rub your tummy, how’s that sound?” 

“Okay,” she mumbled. She put her head on his chest and watched his hand glide under her shirt. She’d never seen her abdomen to distended. “Mmm, I don’t like this.” 

“Shh, just relax.” Dakota used his other hand to play with her hair. He rubbed circles and lines across her body, hoping to lull her into a state of peace. 

Her stomach certainly wasn’t at peace. He could feel it shifting and gurgling under his palm. He rubbed her stomach for twenty minutes, all the while it continued to make sick noises. Blair too made slight noises of discomfort. His touch was comforting but not enough to take her mind off the nausea. 

“Honey, it doesn’t sound like I’m helping very much,” Dakota said. “What if we talk about something to distract you from the pain.” 

“Fine. But no wedding stuff. Too stressful.” 

“Got it.” 

“And no food.” 

“Obviously.” 

“And no work” 

Dakota pouted. “Aw, I was gonna ask about your assistant. I wish I had an assistant.” 

“Piper is shadowing me. She’s not technically an assistant.”

“How can I get a shadow?” 

“I don’t know. Go out in the sun?” 

Dakota laughed and hugged her closer. “And how is your shadow doing with her training?” 

“She’s great. Although she missed a few days last week because of…” Blair blinked quickly as her brain worked faster than her mouth. She couldn’t get the words out when the thoughts came rushing in. All of a sudden, she felt her cheeks drain of colour. Her stomach dropped and a cold sweat broke out across her skin. 

“Because of what?” Dakota looked down at his glitching girlfriend. She got tense in his arms. He could feel the muscles she’d been building tighten. “Bee, you okay?” 

Blair could only shake her head. The hand over her mouth stopped her from speaking. The saliva accumulating in her mouth and the nausea rising in her throat was largely due to a psychological response. Like a placebo effect, but not quite, she knew for a fact that she was about to vomit up her cheat day. She knew this, because a few days before Piper had missed work because of a stomach bug. Bugs tended to scurry to a new home, especially when a new breeding ground gave hugs at the end of every shift. This bug took its time decorating and moving into Blair’s system for an entire week. It renovated and redesigned her stomach and intestines, making itself at home. And now, her system was packed with junk food that just didn’t match the décor. 

Blair shot up from where she rested her head on Dakota’s chest, but it was too late to make a move. She gagged into her hand and lurched forward. Muddy orange vomit came shooting out of her mouth, spewing between her fingers and dripping down her wrist. 

“Holy sh—okay,” Dakota exclaimed as he too tensed up. He quickly sat up from his slouched position as sick landed on his chest and stomach. His sweater began soaking it up. He switched to breathing through his mouth when the sour stink of half-digested cheese and chocolate filled the space. 

“Oh God, honey,” he cooed when Blair heaved again. He placed his palm on her lower back, feeling how rigid she’d become. “It’s all going to be okay. Breathe.” 

But Blair couldn’t breathe. It just kept coming. The sick fell passed her lips in chunky waves that made her cringe and shiver. At least she managed to aim the third wave away from the both of them. It landed on the floor by the couch, just narrowly avoiding their sock covered feet. That would not have been a pleasant sensation if she missed the floor. She could only imagine how Dakota must feel. A sob clawed at her chest when she thought about everything that happened. 

“I’m sorry. Kota, I’m sorry,” she mumbled as she wiped her mouth with her sleeve. Her chest hitched with every sharp inhale.

“Shh, baby. Relax. No need to apologize.” Dakota rubbed her back. “Give me another good breath.” 

She did so slowly, letting a shaky inhale fill her lungs. The exhale was steadier, which they were both happy about. 

Dakota gave a firm pat in the middle of her shoulder blades. “That’s it.” He wiped a tear off her cheek. “Are you alright now?” 

Blair shook her head. “I’m sick.” 

“Yes. Yes, you are.” Dakota looked down at the sludge on his torso. “This is cheating cheat day, you know.” 

Blair let out a weak laugh, before going back to what she was saying. “No, like I’m actually sick. Piper had the stomach flu last week.” 

“Damn…well that explains why you’re so warm,” Dakota said as he thumbed her burning cheek. 

Blair sniffled and nodded. Moving once again seemed like the worst thing in the world, but she knew this break from vomiting was not going to last. She also knew there’d be many permanent stains if they didn’t start cleaning now. 

Dakota must have been reading her mind. “Go sit in front of the toilet. You still look pale.” He thought back to the seconds before she lost it all. “Fuck, Bee, your face got so white. I thought there was a ghost in the living room for a sec.” But his fiancée did not have the energy to reply with anything witty. So, he just kissed her temple and sent her away. “Go, I’ve got to clean this up before it sticks.” 

“Give me your sweater. I’ll throw it in the bathtub.” 

Flick, you give the best prompts! I had lots of fun with this one because it's not my usual M.O. Less heavy on emeto.

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With the stencil dry, Jory sat down to draw an owl on a man’s calf.

It had taken him a long time to finalize the design because he’d been fighting a cold for the past week, not to mention the back-and-forth emails between him and the client. The man’s name was Mason. He was a younger dude with a lot of real-estate for tattoos. 

Jory was happy about the placement and so was Mason. The calf was less painful than other areas so he hoped it would be a smooth process with the young guy. The session was likely to be chill because Mason planned to put in earbuds and watch a show. Jory wasn’t complaining about the lack of conversation. He wasn’t feeling up to talking. 

He cleared his throat to get rid of the tickle before speaking. “Alrighty Mace, I’ll get you to lie down on your stomach.” Even those few words were hard to get out. Jory ahem-ed again and it morphed into a wet cough. “Sorry ‘bout that. I’m just getting over a cold, but I can’t shake this cough.” 

“It’s all good.” 

“You should try having him as a roommate,” Dev interjected from across the room. They were meant to be supervising Jory’s tattoo…which they could totally do at the same time as updating the shop’s social medias. “It’s not all good when you share a wall and he’s coughing at fucking 4am.” 

“I told you I’m almost through this c—” Shouting across the room proved to be too difficult for his lungs, and Jory started coughing again. 

“Yeah, sounds like you’re so much better.” Dev sighed and pushed themselves away from the computer they were working at. They sauntered over to Jory’s station and handed him a medical mask. “Put this on or I will reschedule this session.” 

“Fine. Fine.” Jory put the mask on and started to untie the bandanna from around his head. He folded the paisley-patterned fabric into another face covering. “I’ll even double up if that’ll appease you…” Jory was going to call Dev oh, great supervisor or one true dictator but he was already winded from what little he said. 

As Jory bent forward to tattoo the first line, his back and shoulders ached. Great, two seconds in and he was already in need of a break. This was going to be a long session. 

The client watched an anime on his phone for an hour while Jory worked. He was glad not to be working too close to the man’s face because he never went long before the coughing started up again. 

One time he’d been tattooing a girl’s neck, but he kept burping when their faces were inches apart. He took many breaks during that session until his stomach settled down. It seemed he was going to have to take many breaks this time too, because the wheezing and crackling in his lungs was relentless. 

Usually, the client asks for the first break, but Mason was taking it like a champ; Jory was not doing as well. His chest burned as if an anvil was sitting on his rib cage. 

The pressure was so great that every inhale was a struggle. It felt like he couldn’t expand his chest wide enough to take in a proper breath. The medical mask was wet on the inside from the perpetual coughing. He could feel phlegm building up in his throat, but he wasn’t about to hack a glob of spit up in the middle of the shop. He just had to sit there and pretend that he wasn’t drowning. 

Eventually, Jory couldn’t take it any longer. He turned off the machine and peeled the latex gloves from his sweaty hands. He tapped Mason on his leg to get his attention. “You’re doing great, babes. Why don’t you take a break?” 

“I can keep going.” 

Jory grit his teeth. That was the wrong answer. He forced himself to stay calm. “We’ll start up again in five minutes. Get some water. Take a piss.” 

Jory walked away before Mason could say anything else. His hand tingled from the vibrations of the machine. He flicked his wrist, trying to bring feeling back into his fingers. The urge to cough scratched at his throat, but he forced himself to wait until he got to the employee bathroom. 

Walking was painful. Blinking was painful. His back twinged. His chest felt like it was collapsing in on itself. What the duck was wrong with him? He thought he was getting over this cold, but this was worse than any other day. 

The lights in the bathroom dimmed as he stumbled his way to the sink. Finally, he let himself cough and cough until he thought he would tear a hole in the membrane of his lungs. He choked up a splodge of yellowish phlegm and spat it into the sink. 

When the coughing calmed down, Jory breathed hard. He lifted his head to look at himself in the mirror. His eyes burned and watered with an unnatural heat. Sweat coated his nose and brow, but that didn’t make any sense because he was freezing. Chills wracked his frame. 

A lot of things didn’t make sense just then the more he thought about it, like—oh wait he was back to coughing. He didn’t have the chance to think of anything because his whole body shook from the force of the hack. 

“Jory, what the fuck?” Dev suddenly shouted as they burst into the washroom. “You sound like you’re drowning in here.” 

“I don’t know what’s wrong,” he replied with a hand over his eyes. He rubbed his thumb and finger into his eyeballs. He could have sworn that lava leaked from his dear ducts. “I—I don’t—Ugh—” Pause for a wet rattling cough. “—Gah Dev, my chest hurts. I can’t breathe.” 

Jory bunched up the fabric of his shirt in his hand as he tried to claw the pain away. He was so focused on the pressure in his body, that he didn’t realize that he was stumbling towards Dev. Before he knew it, he was falling into Dev’s arms. If he had a lick of sense in his foggy head, he might have been embarrassed. 

“Whoa, Fuck,” Dev said, catching him awkwardly. Bering this close to Jory, they could feel the heat coming off him. “Fucking hell, Jory, you’re on fire.”

“I—I don’t feel good,” Jory slurred out.

“No shit, your brain is being fried, dude.” 

Dev was still holding Jory when he began coughing again. They could hear pop rocks crackling in his chest with each harsh puff. 

If it wasn’t for Dev holding him up, Jory would have been knocked over by the severity of his coughing. He doubled over as the coughing turned into retches that grated up his throat. The mucus caught in his airway came up with the bile and sick in his stomach. 

Luckily there wasn’t much for him to throw up because Dev was the one who caught the gush with their body. They resisted the impulse to jump back as he retched again. They had to keep holding on or else Jory would be dealing with a concussion on top of whatever bioweapon infected his lungs. 

Eventually, Jory was able to catch his breath. He swayed on his feet, feeling horrendous. Was…was someone holding him? He was looking down at two pairs of feet. One was his own, and the other looked like Dev’s shoes. Was Dev holding him? No, that couldn’t be right. 

Besides, he was plummeting. Dev wouldn’t let him fall. But regardless, he felt like the floor was rushing up at him. It was coming fast. So fast. So—

Then nothing. Just nothing. He didn’t crack his teeth on the tiles. He was fine. But he was lying on the bathroom floor. Dev was gone. 

Jory blinked hard. He didn’t want to be alone. He couldn’t be alone. Someone had to pull him from the water when the waves came crashing back. The water levels were rising. He could feel it in his lungs. 

The bathroom door swung open again. Dev didn’t wait to lift him off the floor. They wrapped his arm around their shoulder and led him towards the back room and lowered him onto a leather couch. 

“Where’d you go?” he asked, letting his head fall against the couch’s arm rest. “You left me. I’m cold. You left me. Can I have a blanket?”

Dev was already in the process of draping a thin blanket over his body. It was the only blanket in the shop, but maybe that was good considering his temperature. “I asked Monty to clean up your station and send Mason home.”  

“Mason!” Jory shouted and shot up, flinging the blanket off.

“Whoa, whoa, easy.” Dev, ungracefully, pushed Jory back onto his back. The boy landed with a groan and (you’ll never guess it) started coughing again. They winced at the horrible sound. “Sorry.” They covered him back up with the blanket and slowly sat down on the edge of the couch. “Mason’s not your concern right now.” 

“I forgot the beak.” 

“What?” 

“The owl—I forgot its beak. What kind of owl doesn’t have a beak?” 

Dev pinched the bridge of their nose to hide a smirk. ‘You didn’t forget anything. Everything’s fine.” 

“And the shading. Dev, the shading!” Jory ranted while hugging the blanket to his chin. His eyes were wild and glassy. “Did I use .30 needles or .35? Was it magnums?” 

“Jory—” 

“Frick, I can’t remember—” More coughing caused tears to leak from his eyes. “—Ugh, my chest.” The sound of popping bubbles came from his lungs. “It’s all messed up. Mason’s gonna—” 

“Alright, that’s enough,” Dev said firmly. “You didn’t mess up the tattoo. You tapped out before you got this bad. It was a good job considering your fever. I was watching you the whole time.” 

As Dev said this, it dawned on them that they should have realized how sick Jory still was. They both let themselves believe that he was over his illness, but the worst was just getting started. 

As if to prove this point, Jory coughed so hard that it turned into a heave.

“Oh God, this again,” Dev said, awkwardly rubbing Jory’s arm. “You’re okay. Get it up. Fuck this blanket.” 

Jory bent forward with his head hanging over his lap. The muscles in his back spasmed. After three violent coughs, he choked up milky phlegm and yellow bile between his legs. It landed on the blanket as Dev predicted. 

Now Dev was rubbing his back for real. They clicked their tongue against their teeth as they watched him suffer through this hell. He was shaking uncontrollability for fuck’s sake. They had to help him better than this. “That’s it. I’m taking you to the hospital.” 

Jory moaned. “I don’t want to. I’m tired.” 

“Too bad. Monty bet me 20 bucks that it’s bronchitis. I say it’s pneumonia.” 

“What!” Jory’s voice cracked. “You’re betting on my suffering?”