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Thursday, 7:53am.
The morning is starting slow. Your alarm has gone off four or five times, dreading you out of a bleary comfort your pillows and duvet have afforded you. You have to get up, you have to put your feet on the floor and stand. You have thirty minutes to get presentable and leave before you're late for work. You have the same routine every morning, yet somehow you forget to take your meds three times before you finally remember. The aching dread that comes at the end of the week has begun to settle over you; you're less focused, drawn to scrolling on your phone while you bluster through your morning routine hazardously. You stayed up too late last night, you're regretting your decision. You don't want to go to work today, but you can't call in. Typical Thursday.
8:37am
You're running a little behind, but if you're lucky and don't hit too much traffic, you should be able to make it to work on time. You managed to make yourself a coffee and microwave breakfast burrito to eat on the way in. Your stomach growls and saliva pools under your tongue. You didn't eat quickly enough after taking your meds, the nausea starts to kick in. You cough a few times, swallow your spit down and pray. You force yourself to take a few large sips of your coffee, hoping that the calories from the creamer will be enough to settle your stomach. You start your car and take a bite of the burrito. It's the end bit, so it's mostly tortilla and a bit of egg. You try not to be disappointed as you back out of your parking spot and begin off to work.
8:58am
You're just in time for work. You won't have time to make it to your computer before 9:00, but you're on company property so you can clock in on your phone. You let yourself sit for a second before going inside. You're feeling restless; it's just anxiety about being late, your boss has been in a bad mood lately and you don't want to upset him. Your music on the way in was too loud, but the silence was even worse. Your breakfast burrito didn't actually heat through all the way and turned you off from the idea of eating entirely. Your coffee is too sweet, you poured too much creamer into it this morning, but you'll survive. You feel off, but you convince yourself that's just because you're tired.
12:23pm
You're exhausted, and you blame it on the stupid burrito. Your boring office job is exactly that, boring, but spending the day at a computer answering emails and redirecting phone calls was better than physical labor on days like today. Your stomach has been grumbling all day, but you're not really hungry, nothing sounds particularly good. You had a sleeve of graham crackers in your drawer at work, you've had a few this morning. They're good dipped in coffee, but both are rather dehydrating. Your favorite coworker came in with a big gulp full of nugget ice and gave you half. The cold water has been nice, but it's done little to solve how dry your mouth has been. You've made a cup of ramen for lunch, you're hoping that the warm and the salt will help you get through. Cup noodles aren't exactly your ideal lunch, but it's the least amount of effort and the least amount of chewing you can do, so you settle for it. You manage about half before your lunch break is over and you bin the remains.
2:00pm
You hate this meeting. You hate this meeting so much. This is the most this could have been an email meeting you've ever attended in your entire life. It's virtual, which is good you suppose because that restlessness from this morning is back. You can look composed on camera, but your feet are tapping and you're not sure what exactly is wrong. You're thankful that you don't have to do much talking in this meeting, but the ramen did little to fix the dry mouth situation. If anything all the sodium bloated you. You've been to the bathroom three times trying to get rid of some of it, but all the liquid remains sloshing around in your stomach. You stifle a burp behind your fist and try to concentrate.
4:45pm
Your boss left fifteen minutes ago, so you're going to leave fifteen minutes early. The sloshing in your stomach hasn't gone away, and you're too embarrassed to ask a coworker for antacid. You want to get out of here early, try to get home before the traffic gets too horrible. You just want to go lie down.
5:20pm
You toe your shoes off as you lean against your door because you know that if you bent over right now you might be sick. The last ten minutes of your drive have been stressful, your stomach hasn't been enjoying the stop and go of traffic. You've been trying to keep it settled with breathing and small sips of your cold water, but your burps have been getting wetter and wetter. The three flights of stairs up to your apartment have done little to settle your stomach, and you are so thankful that you've made it home before getting any worse. You make your way to your bedroom and get out of your uncomfortable work clothes in exchange for your largest and most comfortable pajamas. You feel another burp ripple up through your chest, but your hand springs to your mouth when your stomach heaves. The back of your throat is cold, water unsettled from the drive home. You know things aren't going to get better, you make your way to the bathroom.
You settle onto the bathroom floor, a shiver running up your spine as you lift the toilet seat lid up. You run your hand over your bloated stomach and the groan that leaves your mouth is involuntary. You burp once, twice, three times. They're wet, but have no power. Your stomach gurgles under your hand, that shiver returns. You burp again, deeper this time. You're nearly sick, but nothing more than some spit comes out. You wonder how long it will be before your stomach finally gives way. The restlessness has not left you all afternoon, you know you need to stay planted but you're itching to move. Your hands run along your stomach as you hover in front of the toilet bowl, trying your best to relieve your aching stomach of the gas that's been building. It hurts, you moan. You burp once more, wetter, and the liquid in your throat doesn't choke off or leave. You can't cough, so you heave, and a torrent of cold water splashes down into the toilet below you. You try to catch your breath, but a bubble of air has rolled from your belly button and up through your esophagus. You burp, and more liquid erupts and splashes below you as your stomach heaves twice.
You try to catch your breath, but the contents of your stomach have shifted. The pressure in your chest is trying to keep your throat closed. There is a pressure growing in your stomach, your hand along its side can feel the way the liquids don't seen to slosh anymore, but stand ready for expulsion. You gulp down a breath of air, you burp. There is silence where you're waiting for a breath, but the pressure in your stomach has grown and it has won. You heave once, then twice. There's noodles in this one.
You have a moment to catch your breath. You're able to fill your lungs for the price of a belch, but a harmless one. Dry, forceful, and short, you hope they help regain balance in your stomach, but after only two or three belches liquid found their way up. You burp up a mouthful, your tongue dangling with drool. You think you've cured your dry mouth from all this morning before your stomach retches and forces out more than you knew had been inside of it. You struggle to catch your breath and force up a few smaller waves as you try and clear your throat. Your stomach aches, and you try to settle. You haven't eaten much today, there is no way you can have any more in your stomach to vomit up. Still, you're not confident enough to leave your position in the bathroom yet.
You feel weak, hot and cold at the same time, and you know that even though it made no sense, more was to come. You burp, and your stomach retches some more liquid up. You wonder when this was from, how it got here. It's warm and a little bitter, but it doesn't hurt your throat in the way coffee or bile would. You breathe heavy and your stomach gurgles again. You put your hand on your stomach and feel how unsettled it is. You begin to burp, and you can not stop. One after the other, you're choking on them and then another torrent of vomit, followed by a second so powerful your face is halfway down the toilet bowl. You breathe, you heave, you spit into the bowl. You're a little bit dizzy, but as you breathe and steady yourself, you feel as though the worst of it might be over.
You spend several more minutes on the floor of your bathroom making sure your stomach was truly finished, and you begin to feel much better. You wonder what had kept it so upset in the first place.
2:36am
The ripple that tears its way through your gut is both an auditory warning of what's to come and a pain that sends you curled into yourself. Your body feels heavy, as does your stomach. You took it easy last night, you ate soft foods-mashed potatoes and some pasta. You drank water, you took it slow. You were feeling fine tonight. Throwing up earlier had really helped, but now you're not so certain that assessment was accurate. Your stomach feels hard, and it flinches when you run your fingers along it. Your feet spring to action, you know you don't have much time and you'd rather not get sick in your bed or on your floor. You feel your throat trying to open up, prepare itself for the sick that will be making its way up momentarily. You try not to think about it too much, you settle onto the bathroom floor again.
Things are quiet. For several seconds things are quiet as you hover in the darkness over the bowl of your toilet. Your stomach hangs heavy, though it continues to twitch, trying to heave itself higher. Your mouth hangs open and you let out a little whine. Your stomach contracts, and several waves of sick force themselves out of you. You settle, but only momentarily. Your stomach heaves again, and more sick spews out of you without you having much say in the matter. You hope it will be over soon, you hope it will make you feel better.
You heave two more times. Your stomach hurts. You throw up again, but it's forced, a mouthful of half digested mush forcing its way upwards. A deep burp forces its way up, and with it a thick stream of carb heavy sick. You burp again, you retch some more, you try and catch your breath. Your stomach heaves and forces more spit up. Your brow is sweaty, your legs are weak. You lie down on the floor, you appreciate how cold it is. You think perhaps spending the night here would be a good idea.
for requests: what about one of your ocs having too much in a liquid stuffing on accident like smoothies or milkshakes or something and then they wake up feeling really sick in the middle of the night?
Molly really didn’t mean to overdo it. It had just meant to be a quiet evening in the kitchen, Georgia messing around with the blender and making milkshakes with the new seasonal flavor mixes Blaine had snuck for her from the cafe they work at. She had wanted to test them all, taking a couple sips of each before sliding the glass to Molly for her turn.
Truly, Molly had meant to take nothing more than a few sips of each milkshake too, just like Georgia had. She just didn’t think as she was drinking them, and she ended up finishing more than a few of them— actually, pretty much all of them. And very enthusiastically.
Maybe too enthusiastically, she thinks as she curls up on her side in bed. She had been laughing, licking the ice cream off the spoon, leaning against the counter while Georgia slid another glass full of thick, cold sweetness towards her to stuff into her stomach, telling her to try it and see if it’s creamier than the last.
They had all been good. Like, really good, and they had been having so much fun. It was a dangerous combination.
Now, hours later, with the apartment dim and warm and quiet, Molly has woken with a jolt from a restless and uncomfortable sleep. At first she doesn't know why before she feels her tummy start to gurgle. She wraps her arms around her bloated stomach as it rumbles, a low gurgling that just feels wrong in the bottom of her stomach, and she slowly realizes exactly what is going on and why she has woken back up.
Rubbing her hands across the middle of her belly, she bites back a groan when it rumbles again, too full and heavy, rounded and taut with the sheer amount of cold, thick liquid she’d packed into it. There’s dense gas bloating up the space that the milkshakes don’t fill, which isn’t much but feels like more than enough. Her belly pushes out a little; she can feel it as she rubs her hands over it slowly over her blanket, how it’s pushing the lower curve of her sleep t-shirt up and the waistband of her pajama shorts down.
Molly feels overfull, like pouring thick pudding into a water balloon until it’s overcapacity, looking stretched thin and about to pop.
Though Molly had felt a vague queasy fullness before bed, and Georgia had noticed she was uncomfortable earlier for long enough to rub her back as they settled down to sleep, Georgia had fallen asleep quickly, her stomach full but not a victim of the same storm brewing in Molly’s. Her breaths are warm and steady against Molly’s shoulder as she sleeps, and Molly tries to will herself back to sleep, too.
Closing her eyes, she drifts into a sort of half-sleep, willing her nausea to recede enough to allow her to rest. It’s like she can’t fall fully asleep, though. Bubbling pops keep grumbling through her belly as it gets more upset, and as she lays on her side, the fullness in her tummy feels like it’s sliding its thick, chilly way up her throat.
Molly swallows again, and again. Each one feels heavy and thick, like she’s pushing cream and cold back down into her rumbling tummy, more full by the moment because of it.
With her next swallow, still drifting in a queasy sleep, her stomach gurgles, low and wet with a glugging churn.
Molly’s eyes snap open into the darkness, her hands clutching her aching, upset stomach. It feels so full, so swollen and stretched, so heavy and uncomfortable; a slow churning twists the center of her belly, squirming thickly inside of her like a heavy syrup bubbling under her ribs. She tries to breathe in deeply, but she only brings up a shallow burp without relief, making her tummy gurgle again.
Her throat thickens again, and she swallows again. It doesn’t help though.
Her stomach gives another slow ripple through the grumbling lower swell, feeling more and more unsettled as she lays here. A lazy, queasy roll sloshes through her— she can actually feel the heavy liquid sloshing inside the confines of her belly— and she groans, squeezing her eyes shut, rubbing both hands desperately across her lower stomach again in the hopes of getting it to calm down and digest.
Molly shifts, trying to roll from her side onto her back so she won’t be so uncomfortable. Bad idea. Her stomach is so heavy and full that it feels like it’s crushing her lungs instantly, making it difficult to breathe, and thick, cold acid rolls upwards into the back of her mouth. Even worse, the movement makes everything inside her slosh, thick and slow, as a heavy wave of nausea rises violently up her throat.
She clamps her lips shut firmly, breathing fast and harsh through her nose as she wills herself not to throw up. Her gorge rises, and she swallows rapidly. The back of her throat tastes like chocolate and cinnamon, and she burps, a low, rumbling belch that makes her groan and has tears prickling in her eyes.
Her stomach churns again, louder this time in a long, uneasy guuuuurgle that she can hear and feel, both inside and outside. Something thick and restless writhes in her belly, heavier by the second, and her breath catches before she lets out another burp, airy this time and useless.
She rolls back onto her side, hoping to undo the damage she’s caused. Drawing her knees up, she tucks one hand under her cheek like a sleeping child. The other finds her belly again and rubs a slow, nervous circle over her bloated middle. She tries to push in a little to help guide the gas out, but the pressure won’t ease and the gurgling mess inside won’t settle. Something pops thickly in the back of her belly, and her jaw clenches, her hand digging in harder into her squirming tummy.
Another uneasy bubble gurgles up in her belly, rumbles rippling across her lower tummy. She swallows thickly, jaw clenching, waiting for it to pass.
“Molly?” Georgia asks, voice soft and sleepy as a warm hand slides between her shoulder blades. Molly freezes. “You awake? Feel tense.”
Molly’s lower belly squelches loudly, a bloated squirming causing a ripple across her tummy. A squiggling gurgle bubbles through her upper belly. When she rubs her hand there, she feels a few bubbles pop right under her hand, and can feel how rounded her stomach feels, a swell that bloats out starting right below her tits and ending pushed against her thighs. It feels huge as she rubs another series of bubbles into popping under her hand.
“Is that your stomach?” Georgia asks. She sounds marginally more awake. Another thick snarl squirms through Molly’s belly, loud and long like a roll of thunder. “That sounds really upset, baby. Are you feeling okay?”
Molly nods, squeezing her eyes shut and panting through her mouth as another gurgle rolls from the pit of her stomach and up her throat. Nausea is plain in her voice as she chokes out, “I’m fine.”
“You don’t sound fine,” Georgia disagrees.
As if her stomach is in agreement with Georgia, that traitor, another queasy roll churns through her stomach then, as if a thick wave of undigested milkshake rises and crashes against the front of her belly. She groans at the heavy liquidy sloshing and rumbles up a wet burp.
“I just think I had too much to eat today,” Molly whispers, curling tighter around her sick stomach. “I woke up feeling really full. I’ll be okay once my stomach settles down.”
Georgia’s hand slides down to Molly’s side. She rests it there for a moment before pushing along the swollen curve of her stomach, finding how full and round it is with a hesitant hand. She rubs a little circle into her tummy, making a thick gurgle bubble up right under her hand.
“Your stomach sounds really upset,” Georgia comments skeptically, though softly. “I can feel it moving in there. What’s making you sick? The milkshakes?”
Molly’s stomach gurgles loudly at the mention of the milkshakes again. Squeezing her eyes shut again, embarrassed and nauseated, she swallows thickly to keep the milkshakes in her stomach where they belong, then nods.
“Okay,” Georgia says softly. “Just keep breathing nice and slow. I got you. Want me to try rubbing your belly to help it along?”
A tight, loud gurgle twists in her upper belly. Molly nods again, wanting any sort of relief that she can get right now. If they can get her stomach to calm down enough to work past the nausea to digest the milkshakes, she can hopefully fall back asleep and just sleep the rest of her upset stomach off.
“Okay,” Georgia says again. “Tell me if it’s too much.”
Her hand starts off touching softly beneath the blankets. She pushes Molly’s t-shirt up, allowing her to rub her hand in soft, wide circles on the side of her belly. Her stomach starts reacting almost immediately, a thick, wet series of bubbles twisting in her lower belly and gurgling their way up to bloat her upper stomach.
The motions of Georgia’s stomach rubs are slow and steady, stirring the thick liquid in Molly’s tummy the same way. A thick, slow, undulating wave shifts in Molly’s stomach, snarling upwards towards her chest; she’s worried for a second that she’s going to vomit before a huge belch bursts out of her, thick and wet, making her stomach squirm and growl loudly.
“How’d that feel?” Georgia asks, sounding skeptical again. “You don’t feel any less bloated.”
She isn’t any less bloated. If anything, the huge burp made her nausea spike, and she presses her lips together tightly, breathing harshly through her nose.
As if sensing her tension, Georgia’s hand slows on her stomach, her touch softening further. It wasn’t how hard or fast she was rubbing, though; it was just that anything touching her right now feels like it’s going to move the contents of her stomach around.
Her belly feels like it’s filled past capacity. Her entire stomach is just full of milkshake now that feels like it doesn’t want to stay inside her or digest, bubbling and gurgling and somehow still refusing to leave her belly. Just Georgia putting her hand on her tummy like this makes her realize how overfull and stretched she is. She tries to shift again as her belly glugs queasily, and Georgia’s next rub makes everything in her stomach rise up in another thick wave up under her ribs.
Throat tingling, Molly groans, “Mmhm,” and one hand flies up over her mouth, feeling a hot wave of sweaty nausea wash over her. She swallows thickly several times in a row, trying to force down the thickness she can feel at the back of her throat as her belly rolls inside of her again, wanting to bring everything in it up.
Georgia’s hand stops immediately, pressing flat and warm against her overheated skin. A sick gurgle squelches under her hand at the same time a low growl rumbles through her guts, and Molly groans with it.
Georgia’s gentle hands pull her in against her, pressing her forehead to the nape of Molly’s sweaty neck.
“You’re okay,” Georgia promises her. “If it has to come up, let it come up. It’ll be alright.”
Molly’s breathing through her nose quickens, shallow and fast. Georgia kisses the nape of her neck, shushing her like she’s a spooked horse.
They stay in that position for a while while Molly fights to keep everything inside of her stomach where it’s supposed to be. Her belly keeps rumbling, the heavy mass of milkshakes refusing to calm down in her upset storm of a stomach. It won’t stop gurgling, bubbling, thick squelches squirming through before everything will shift again and she’ll burp, though it never gives her any relief.
Every so often, another thick wave of nausea will wash over her as everything in her stomach gurgles and fights her at once. A thunderous growl will burble up from the pit of her stomach and gurgle into her chest and the back of her throat, and she has to swallow thick and heavy and fast to keep it from going any further than that.
The nausea only keeps getting worse, feeling closer and closer as she tries so hard to keep everything down. Her belly feels like it’s determined not to digest anything at all, though, and refuses to settle down or let the milkshakes actually digest.
Another thick belch is so heavy and thick that Molly groans with a whining edge, feeling near tears. It’s too sweet in her mouth, cloying and heavy.
Molly’s voice is tiny when she asks, “Can you please get me some water?”
There’s a pause before Georgia answers, “Your stomach is really full already. Are you sure?”
“I know,” Molly whispers in the darkness. “but maybe it’ll settle things?” Her stomach shifts in a long, slow roll again, growling as everything turns over itself so heavily. “It all feels too heavy inside me. I don’t know. I thought water could help.”
Her voice is somehow smaller by the end, nauseated to the edge of tears, and Georgia leans over her to brush her thumb under her eye and shush her again, clearly seeing how miserable she is.
“Okay,” she agrees gently. “Try just a sip at first, okay?”
Molly nods as Georgia gets up out of bed. She leaves the lights mercifully off as she heads to their bathroom; Molly hears the water running, and she slowly pushes herself up so she’ll be sitting up and ready by the time Georgia gets back.
The movement immediately makes her stomach protest loudly, a churning gurgle snarling through as it feels like everything moves up and down at the same time. There’s a rippling churning inside of her, as if the after-effects of someone throwing a heavy stone into a thick swamp. A wave of thick nausea and milkshakes surges up her throat, and she swallows it back with a burp that makes her chest burn sharply.
Another surge of nausea rolls through her, a wave rocking through her belly. She rubs at her lower stomach with one hand, the other hand pressing over her mouth as she breathes hard through her nose and waits for everything to settle down.
When Georgia comes back with a cool glass of water, she says, “Oh, no, baby.”
Molly’s stomach is still sloshing at the sudden shifting. Georgia sits beside her, steadying her with one hand between her shoulder blades again, the other one holding the glass out to her.
“Small sips,” Georgia reminds her.
Molly nods and lifts the glass, taking a gulp into her mouth. She lets it sit there for a moment to clear the thickness away before she swallows, feeling it take the thick feeling down her throat with it into her tummy.
It’s a nice feeling, and Molly immediately swallows down another sip, then a third. The third sip can be heard by both of them, a liquidy sloshing hitting her stomach audibly. Georgia takes the glass just as Molly groans, a slow, heavy churn rolling through her stomach as nausea swells ominously into the back of her throat once more.
Molly’s hands return to her stomach, clutching as she swallows again.
“Okay, that sounds not so good,” Georgia comments, setting the glass aside. “Just breathe. It’s just water, let it sit. Maybe Pepto would be better?”
Molly groans again, unable to make any other noise. It just comes out of her, a queasy moan as she leans forward, one hand rubbing hard across the swell of her stomach while she presses the back of her hand hard into her mouth, knuckle bones digging into her lips.
Another wave of nausea rises as her belly turns over itself, making a thick, miserable gurgle of a sound.
“Mm,” Molly whines. “Mmhmmmm…”
“Don’t fight it,” Georgia tells her. “Let’s get up and go to the bathroom, okay? I don’t think it’s going to stay down.”
Molly wants to protest just because she doesn’t want to get sick. The nausea is becoming unbearable though, beyond her control. She can feel it taking over in a way that promises she’s going to be sick, that she drank far too many milkshakes before bed and that they were never going to be able to settle and that they are all definitely going to come back out.
She nods, letting Georgia help her stand shakily. Her stomach protests; it feels like the bloat has diminished a little, but her stomach is no less full or rounded for it. In fact, her upper belly feels worse than it had when she first woke up, because now it’s rumbly and gurgly and won’t stop sending queasy bubbles through her. It’s still so heavy she can barely take a deep breath — and nor does she want to, because every time she tries, her tummy rumbles again at the increase in pressure.
The nausea isn’t really coming in waves anymore. It’s constant now, and Molly’s mouth feels full of bitter saliva gathering on the back of her tongue, pooling underneath it before she swallows and makes her tummy churn again.
Every step sends a deep, rolling slosh churning through her upset stomach. She keeps rubbing her stomach even though it’s futile because she can’t think of anything else to do. Georgia guides her forward carefully, and Molly keeps her hand over her mouth, fighting to keep back her nausea as her heavy belly sloshes sickly.
By the time they’re in the bathroom, Molly’s trembling. Georgia carefully eases her down to sit on the cool tile floor next to the toilet, her back against the side of the bathtub. Molly instantly curls her legs up to try and relieve the pressure, but it doesn’t help any, her stomach sitting heavy and round in her lap. A loud, gurgling series of pops rumbles through her upper stomach, and she groans at the spike in queasiness that they bring, everything in her trying to force its way out of her.
“I think I’m gonna be sick,” Molly confesses, wrapping her arms around her stomach and starting to rock a little. “I really don’t feel so good, my stomach—” Her belly turns, squelching with a loud grumble. “I feel so sick, my stomach’s really upset.”
“I know,” Georgia murmurs. She brushes Molly’s hair away from her sweaty forehead without even hesitating to touch her. “You’re going to feel so much better once you get all those milkshakes out of you. No wonder your tummy hurts, I can’t believe I didn’t realize how much you drank, baby. You must be so full.”
Molly thinks she’s far past full as her eyes sting with shimmering tears. Another roll of nausea pushes upwards, and she shifts with it, moving to push the two toilet lids up and lean over the bowl.
“Coming up?” Georgia asks.
Molly leans over the water, panting. A thick gurgle rumbles through her belly and she lets it, palming at the side of her stomach to force it along. It comes out as a thick belch, wet at the end, and she groans with it.
“Almost,” Molly tells her. Another gurgle rolls up, forcing another thick belch from her. She can feel everything in her stomach lurching, trying to come up, but it won’t. “Can I —” She hiccups. “Can I have the water? And can you rub my belly?”
“Sure thing,” Georgia agrees without question. Molly is so grateful for her as she quickly retreats and returns with her glass of water.
She settles back in beside Molly, sitting on the bathroom floor next to the toilet, facing her. Molly’s hair is already in a braid. Georgia reaches out, rubs her hand over Molly’s swollen and gurgling stomach just as Molly leans her head back to swallow down the rest of the glass of water in three big swallows.
The water sloshes into her stomach all together. A wet wave of queasiness surges through her, and she just barely manages to shove the glass at Georgia and get back over the toilet before another huge burp tears out of her. This one brings up a little bit of regurgitated water at the end that she only just swallowed down. She spits it into the bowl with a whimper.
“That’s it—”
“Keep rubbing,” Molly begs, feeling bad for interrupting her but needing her help. “Please?”
Georgia doesn’t seem offended. She only does as Molly asks. Her hand returns to Molly’s stomach and starts rubbing slowly across the front, but firmly. Her hand digs in as she makes hard circles in Molly’s belly, no longer looking to soothe her stomach but to help her make it better.
Her stomach protests the forceful movements loudly with a wet growl. It’s like Georgia’s stirring her insides up, a big spoon stirring the thick milkshake in her belly. It makes her stomach lurch, and she burps again, heavy and wet over the bowl. It’s closer to vomiting now, she thinks.
Molly reaches for her own stomach with both hands on either side. She rubs vigorously, rising up onto her knees. The shift in movement sends everything inside of her sloshing forwards and upwards, and she gags over the water again.
“Oh, God,” she whimpers, clutching the bowl now.
Georgia puts her arm around her. Her other hand keeps rubbing her belly; under her hand, Molly’s stomach tightens before it releases a long, low, liquidy gurgle, bubbling up from the pit of her stomach, forcing a lurch of all the milkshakes in her stomach upwards. She retches, a wet and ugly sound, her body jerking forward. It feels like the nausea is right at the back of her throat as her body trembles, but nothing comes up yet.
“Okay, okay,” Georgia murmurs. Her hand is rubbing in deep, steady circles on Molly’s sick stomach. “I’m so sorry you’re feeling so sick, baby.”
Molly sobs softly at that. She’s humiliated and overwhelmed and so nauseated, and at the same time, she’s so grateful Georgia’s here with her. She feels flushed and sick all over, her stomach lurching inside her as she gags again.
“I feel so full,” she cries, sniffling. “It hurts so bad, I feel so sick, I’m going to be sick —”
“I know, sweetheart,” Georgia says. She’s always so sweet, so warm, so calm. “You just had too much to eat.”
“Why am I so sick?” Molly cries still, shifting to rub her stomach again. “I feel so sick, how did I —” She belches a deep, low burp that makes the toilet water ripple. She can feel a sick ripple squirm under her hand, and she groans again, burping once more, tasting chocolate and vanilla and strawberry and vomit. “How did I drink so much, I feel so sick.”
“Just get it up,” Georgia encourages her, so sweetly. Her hand presses more firmly into her stomach, rubbing upwards, making her queasy stomach churn and then rumble loudly as her throat tightens and her mouth floods with saliva. Her other hand reaches up and pulls her hair back away from her face.
“Fuck,” Molly curses before she’s jerking forward and belching up a wave of part-sweet, part-sour, chocolatey vomit. It’s so thick and heavy, gushing out of her as she belches and gags before another wave comes up. It’s not cold anymore, heated by her body. She barely has a chance to suck in a breath before her stomach lurches and forces up another huge, thick, liquidy mass of vomit.
“Get it out, that’s it,” Georgia says quietly. Her other hand still rubs her belly, slowly, even when Molly whimpers and her stomach forces up another wave of milkshake-vomit. “That’s it, you’re doing so good. Just let it out, baby.”
Molly retches before she gags productively and vomits up a few more heavy rushes of regurgitated milkshakes. It takes a while before the continuous surges finally ebb and she can catch her breath. Tears stream down her face as she spits into the toilet, trying to clear her mouth and throat. Her stomach gives another hollow gurgle, aching and throbbing inside of her. She’s definitely not done and can feel more of the milkshakes gurgling in her stomach, but she thinks she has a break for now.
“Oh my…” Molly belches again, then spits again. “Oh my God.”
“I know.” Georgia kisses her cheek. “That was rough. Do you think you got it all out?”
Molly shakes her head. She’s still hovering over the toilet, not trusting her stomach. It gives a small gurgle, and she groans, hiccuping.
“I never want to drink a milkshake again,” she mumbles, miserable, then spits again.
Georgia scratches her scalp, tying her hair back with an elastic now that she’s not actively vomiting anymore. “Let’s get you cleaned up and back in bed.”
Molly spits one last time, then nods. “Okay.” She turns her saddest eyes on Georgia. “Help me up?”
Giving one last little rub to her stomach, Georgia says, “Sure thing, sweetheart,” and rises to help her to her feet. Molly goes along shakily, letting Georgia flush the toilet and guide her to the sink to rinse out her mouth with mouthwash before she’s led back into their bedroom to collapse on the bed, curled up on her side again. The act of dropping downwards rattles a belch out of her, and she moans again, wrapping her arms around her rumbling tummy.
“Hold me?” she asks Georgia.
“Always,” Georgia answers, climbing in behind her. She kisses her cheek as she slides into place, one hand running down her side to stroke small circles into the side of her belly. It gurgles under her hand, earning Molly another kiss. “Shut your eyes.”
Molly does as she’s been told, shutting her eyes, trying to fall asleep. It only takes a few seconds before her stomach gurgles loudly again and she can taste strawberry in the back of her throat.
“Get the trash can,” she says urgently, rocketing upwards, and Georgia’s already grabbing for the bin, shoving it under her mouth just in time.
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“But there are dark, untouched corners within all of us. Sex can be very exciting in one moment and barely tepid the next. It can feel like love but not be love. It can feel like possession and then the person walks away. You can’t possess another person. You can’t make another person not die. If nothing else, at least my vomit fetish is mine. It’s mine and it’s real.”
story time! i was feeling sick but hungry so my then-boyfriend told me to eat plain porridge. the warm porridge felt so comforting that i kept eating and eating. about 10 minutes after i stopped eating, i felt doomed as the nausea kicked in. i walked from the couch to the kitchen sink and sat on the kitchen stool. when my boyfriend came out the toilet and saw me, he asked if i was alright or wanted a tea/water. i shook my head and said "i might throw up" softly. he then came over and started rubbing my back abit. he spoke softly "it's ok babe, just throw up" his words were like an activating button... the nausea rose and i turned to the sink and leaned over a little, trying to breathe. he took my hair falling from both sides and held it. i felt so nauseous but could only cough for a few minutes. i gripped the sink for support. then finally my stomach gave in, and it was in a few forceful distinct heaves that i vomited all my white porridge - it was a Lot of it splattered thickly across the sink. i ate way too much, like 2.5 big bowls? heave after heave, i brought out everything. when i was done, my boyfriend put his hand on my stomach, commented that i vomited quite a lot, and asked if i felt okay. i was drained and tired and nodded in response. then he guided me to the bed to rest and i fell asleep fast. i woke up a lot more energetic, feeling better, and became chirpy again 😌
OCs; two guys, starting platonic but we’ll see what happens next
You’re out with your best friend and drink four or five beers without thinking about it. He suggests getting food so you get a burger and fries and wash it all down with another couple of beers.
Someone suggests doing shots and you know it’s a bad idea but you do it anyway, two or three of them in a row. Fireball. It burns going down.
Your stomach feels awful. There’s a huge air bubble right there in your chest and you know it’s going to come up any second and there’s a 50/50 chance your dinner and all of that beer and fuck, that Fireball, right behind.
You’re standing outside while your buddy smokes a cigarette and the smell of the smoke sends you over the edge. You’re suddenly freezing and you clamp a hand over your mouth, forcing yourself to swallow, hoping you can get the air bubble to pass without incident. Your buddy catches you as you fight back a gag, your eyes rolling back in your head.
He drops his cigarette and with a hand on your shoulder guides you around the side of the building, away from the street. You bend over, your hands on the wall in front of you, and finally stop fighting. What comes up isn’t quite a burp but a cross between a hiccup and a dry heave. The next one isn’t so dry. You spit out a mouthful of spit and stomach acid and brace yourself for what’s coming. “Fuck,” you say, “I’m so sorry. I didn’t—” you’re cut off by another gag, this one bringing up a mouthful of just the Fireball. A little bit gets in your sinuses. It burns.
Your friend pats you on the back, right between the shoulder blades. “You’re okay,” he assures you. “We’ve all been there. Just breathe.”
You try, but your breath hitches as you gag again. This time something deep in your stomach seems to move and you hear a wave of mostly liquid splash across the pavement and against the building. Before you can catch your breath, your stomach heaves again. This time you feel the chunks, have to cough to get them all out of your throat.
For the next few minutes, you stand there, emptying your stomach of wave after wave of beer and stomach acid and bile and chunks of your dinner. It comes out your nose. It splashes so violently that you’ve got splashback against your jeans and boots. The whole time, your buddy stands there with his hand on your back.
It finally stops and you stand there, spitting, your mouth still hyper-salivating. “You think you’re done?” your friend asks.
You nod. You try to say, “I think so,” but you can’t make the words come out. You nod again.
“I’m gonna get you some water,” he says. “And then let’s get you home. Okay?”
The other day I met up with my friend who I don’t see very often and we went out for brunch. Whilst we were driving to the cafe she mentioned feeling slightly queasy but we both brushed it off because she has quite a weak stomach so feels nauseous quite a lot and most of the time she doesn’t actually throw up. When we got there we looked through the menus and one of the things you could order was a hot cross bun.
She saw it and mentioned the time we were sat next to each other on a coach for a school trip and she had eaten a hot cross bun but because of motion sickness, she had thrown it all up into a plastic bag but then, because there were no bins on the coach she had had to put the puke-filled bag into her back pack and carry it into the theatre.
The thought of this story clearly made her feel queasier and she burped subtly and swallowed but she kept brushing it off and said that she’d feel better once she’d had something to eat because she hadn’t eaten anything all day (she doesn’t eat breakfast it makes her throw up - weak stomach). We ordered our food, I had a stack of pancakes and she had a full English breakfast and we both ordered smoothies to go with it. We chatted the whole time and everything was good until about 2/3 of the way through when I noticed her rubbing her stomach. I asked her if she was okay and she said yes and kept eating. We were just finishing her smoothies when she burped and then gagged into her hand. I asked again if she was sure that she was okay and she finally admitted that she felt like she might throw up but she just blamed it on the fact that she ate her food too fast. We finished and paid and we got back in the car.
I told her to just say if she needed me to pull over at any point and also gave her a plastic bag from my glove compartment. I could hear her upset stomach gurgling the whole time and every now and then she would lift the bag up to her lips, let out a wet burp and then put it back down.
We got back to her flat without any incidents but she’s still clearly nauseous I take her to the bathroom and she sits in front of the toilet. She stays there for about five minutes gagging and heaving but not getting anything up and then she asks me to rub her belly!!! Guys I literally died this is like my dream scenario. Anyway I try to keep it cool and help her out so I sit behind her and rub her belly and she starts burping up small mouthfuls of breakfast and every time she gagged I felt her stomach contract. She continued burping up small mouthfuls then all of a sudden she let out a deep wet burp and a thick stream of undigested food came pouring out of her. I move round slightly so I can rub her back aswell as her stomach and moving also gave me a better view of the beautiful mess she was making in the toilet. Obviously my number one concern was whether she was okay or not but her throwing up was so hot 🥵.
Anyway after a few more powerful waves the vomit started to tamper off letting her catch her breath. I was still rubbing her back and giving her gently encouragement and telling her to get it up if she needs to and that she’ll feel much better once it’s out. She burped up a couple more mouthfuls and then came to the conclusion she was done.
I helped her up, out of the bathroom and onto the sofa and got her a bucket just in case and a glass of water. I sat down next to her while she put on a movie and drank the water. A few minutes in she gagged and slapped her hand over her mouth and I quickly grabbed the bucket and held it for her to puke into. I held the bucket with one hand and rubbed her back with the other. Her vomit was mainly water with a couple of chunks. After she was done I put the bucket back on the floor and she lied down on the sofa with her head on my lap. She spent the rest of the movie rubbing her stomach and burping into her hand every now and then. Near the end of the movie she fell asleep. I made sure the bucket was by her head and slowly got up and let myself out.
I text her later to make sure she was okay and she said that she hadn’t thrown up since and said she must have just overeaten or something.
😶i love quiet pukers, who have a hand in front of their mouth as they vomit, letting out quiet exhales with every gush. they shut their eyes and their body rocks forward with the heaves. they are helpless, just having to let their stomach have its way, silently barfing it all up until they're empty.
😠i love pukers who are in denial about having to puke. even when they start to let out dangerously wet burps, swallowing hard to keep their stomach contents where they should be. maybe even after they vomit back up into their cup, they insist they're fine -- before loud retching takes hold of them and sick comes bubbling up.
😔i love sickly little pukers who take a long time to vomit. they whine and lay about with no energy, every now and again dry-heaving in your arms. despite their constant queasiness, they take hours to get anything more than sickly sweet saliva out of them. but when they do start to spew, its violent and copious.
🤮i love dramatic pukers who get sick immediately out of nowhere. they have a weak stomach perhaps, or overate, or took one last daring shot of vodka before their guts revolt. after sweetly burping and hiccuping all night, it takes everybody - even them - by surprise when a little burp suddenly ends in a gush of sick alllll over the place. they inhale and try to speak, but their gut clenches and they keep on vomiting helplessly.
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a belly battlefield - dimi, dimi eats too much as a human and as a werewolf and he can't digest all of it, it ends up destroying him and making him horribly sick, dimi sick, sick from both ends, emeto, scat
a big mess [redux] - georgia and molly, molly getting food poisoning after eating at a gas station, then getting sick on the subway when she can't hold it back, molly sick, georgia caretaker, emeto
an unexpected visitor - blaine and parker, parker telling his best friend blaine he's pregnant while he's having "morning" sickness, blaine agreeing to help while parker is sick, parker sick, blaine caretaker, pregnancy, emeto
another fucking rejection - darren and nate, nate upset over a rejected job offer and eating himself sick, nate overeating while darren looks after him, nate sick, darren caretaking, emeto
attempted staycation - georgia and molly, georgia and molly both eat the same thing at a hotel and get sick together at the same time, they end up realizing they have a stomach flu, molly sick, georgia sick, sick from both ends, emeto, scat
bad timing [redux] - blaine and pao, pao has food poisoning but still goes to hang out with blaine like she planned, pao getting sick in public, pao sick, blaine caretaker, emeto
birthday party hangover - joan, joan wakes up hungover and queasy and still decides to overeat at a birthday party, then uses the situation for her cam show, joan sick, emeto
burrito burden - darren and nate, darren overeating burritos and getting gassy and nauseous, indigestion and food poisoning and stomach upset trying to process, darren sick, nate caretaker, emeto
burrito burden, pt. 2 - darren and nate, nate realizes he has food poisoning too, as well as being sympathy sick from watching darren get sick, nate sick, darren sick again, both want to caretake but can't, emeto
candy corn comas - georgia and molly, georgia and molly both eat way too much candy corn and make themselves sick together on accident, georgia sick, molly sick, emeto
donut disaster - darren, darren eats an entire box of a dozen donuts at work and then drinks multiple carbonated energy drinks on his cheat day and gets sick, darren sick, emeto
eat herself to death - joan, an emeto camgirl named joan overdoes it on camera and makes herself very sick with food that's just a little off, joan sick, emeto
eat something - georgia and molly, molly drinks too much and gets sick because of it, date night gone wrong when molly gets sick, molly sick, georgia caretaker, sick from both ends, emeto, scat
emetophobia [redux] - blaine, georgia, and molly, blaine getting sick and georgia is caretaking when molly gets sympathy sick, nate is on his way, blaine sick, molly sick, georgia caretaker, emeto
expanding pastries - blaine and diego, blaine overeating pastries at work while a little stoned, coming home and feeling bloated and sick before diego comes home with more to eat, no emeto
expanding pastries, pt. 2 - blaine and diego, blaine tries to eat but they realize they've eaten too much and confess to diego, they end up getting sick from eating way too much, blaine sick, diego caretaker, emeto
food-induced [redux] - diego, diegos eats too much before realizing he ate himself sick, overeating until he makes himself nauseated and ill, diego sick, emeto
full day of trouble - nate and darren, nate wakes up with a hangover and then eats the wrong things all day, ends up getting sick at the end of the day and is absolutely destroyed, nate sick, darren caretaker, emeto
get it up any way possible - blaine and diego, blaine having a really full and bloated belly and being constipated, overeating and giving themself a nauseated belly on purpose, sick blaine, caretaker diego, sick from both ends, emeto, scat
halloween horrors - diego, overeating halloween candy until he feels like he's actually about to explode, then getting so sick he loses his mind a little bit, sick diego, emeto
it hurts so much - darren and nate, nate eating too much on a rumbly tummy and having bad nausea and indigestion when he tries to sleep, he's very queasy but can't get sick so darren helps, sick nate, caretaker darren, emeto
job poorly done - georgia and molly, georgia overeating and having food poisoning at the same time, waking up sick in the middle of the night, sick georgia, caretaker molly, sick from both ends, emeto, scat
just in time [redux] - blaine and georgia, blaine feeling sick and getting worse at work, sent home for blaine and georgia to worry about what's wrong with them, blaine sick, georgia caretaker, emeto
let's stay together - darren and nate, nate drinks too much and eats greasy food that doesn't help, nate gets sick while darren helps him through it, nate sick, darren caretaker, emeto
maybe not today - blaine and diego, diego's mcdonald's doesn't sit right in the car on the way to the zoo, getting sick in the car, diego sick, blaine caretaker, emeto
mindless and careless - georgia and molly, molly eats too much too fast after a day of not eating at all and makes herself violently ill afterwards, molly sick, georgia caretaker, emeto
misplaced nerves - darren and nate, nate anxiously overeating from food trucks until he's sick, trying to communicate while nate is so sick, nate sick, darren caretaker, sick from both ends, emeto, scat
movie madness - darren and nate, nate eats too much going into a movie and gets an upset stomach, ends up needing to drink water in the bathroom to get it all up and feel better, nate sick, darren caretaker, emeto
motion sickness [redux] - diego, tummy hurting since the morning, feeling sick on the buss and ends up getting sick before he can get off, emeto
multiple mistakes - darren and nate, nate overeats at a potluck and comes home sick, darren is very sweet to him about it, nate sick, darren caretaker, emeto
no warning [redux] - georgia and nate, georgia thinks she has food poisoning, she's proven right when nate ends up feeling sick too, georgia sick, nate caretaker, and then, nate sick, georgia caretaker, simultaneously, emeto
on stormy seas - georgia and molly, molly eats a little too much from a buffet on a boat, molly ends up seasick and can't hold back, motion sickness, molly sick, georgia caretaker, emeto
oyster house - georgia and molly, both get food poisoning from an oyster house, molly gets sick first with georgia caretaking, then georgia gets sick while molly sleeps, so this is molly sick, georgia caretaker, and then, georgia sick, sick from both ends, emeto, scat
push your luck - darren and nate, nate drinking too much and overeating, tries to make it better and ends up making himself sicker, nate sick, darren caretaker, emeto
raw ruination - dimi, dimi overeats too much raw meat while he's in werewolf form and it destroys him when he shifts back into his human form, dimi sick, sick from both ends, emeto, scat
red carpet unsteady - darren and nate, darren overeating and also getting food poisoning while at an event for nate, darren sick, nate caretaker, emeto
risk and reward - darren and nate, darren eats too much lactose without medication and has a lactose intolerance episode, darren sick, nate caretaker, sick from both ends, emeto, scat
roadside seafood platter - blaine and diego, blaine eating a seafood platter from a convenience store that gives them food poisoning and makes them sick in the car, blaine sick, diego caretaker, sick from both ends, emeto, scat
rock-and-roller coaster - georgia and molly, georgia eating too much before going on rides at a theme park, molly helps her get it up and also get home, georgia sick, molly caretaker, emeto
sandwich mistakes - luke and riley, riley eating bad food from the hospital caf that he can't digest and gets sick multiple times at work, riley sick, luke caretaker, sick from both ends, emeto, scat
self-induced [redux] - diego and pao, pao and diego both drinking too much before pao decides to purge to avoid a hangover the next day, diego sick, pao sick, emeto
subway rumbling - blaine, blaine has a breakfast smoothie that doesn't sit right and ends up sick on the subway train, blaine sick, emeto
sugary sweets - georgia and molly, molly overeating sweets that don't sit well, georgia coming to take care of her very upset tummy, molly sick, georgia caretaker, emeto
take the loss - darren and nate, nate enters a chili dog eating contest, then tries to sleep it off before waking up sick in the car and then at a rest stop, nate sick, darren caretaker, emeto
thanksgiving tragedy - darren and nate, darren and nate both eat too much at thanksgiving but nate eats way too much and ends up suffering the consequences, nate sick, darren caretaker (and mildly queasy), emeto
the punishment fits the crime - darren and nate, darren and nate eat breakfast for dinner but nate has too much too eat and spoiled food on top of that, food poisoning and intense nausea, sick nate, caretaker darren, emeto
the ninth circle of hell challenge - darren and nate, nate decides to tackle a wing challenge where he eats thirty very spicy wings in ten minutes and then suffers the consequences, sick nate, caretaker darren, emeto
too much, too fast - darren and nate, nate overeats leftovers in the fridge and gets sick from overindulgence and food poisoning at once, nate sick, darren caretaker, emeto
too upset to appreciate - darren and nate, nate's dinner isn't sitting well at a public event and darren helps him get out of it, nate sick, darren caretaker, emeto
uneasy holiday - darren and nate, darren eats a little too much rich food at a work party and ends up with an unsettled stomach, nate helps him when he can't keep it down, sick darren, caretaker nate, emeto
hiii can you please write a fic with leo getting carsick with lucas and vince?? and this time it’s pretty bad, they have to pull over multiple times and he still can’t stop dry heaving long after he’s empty and vince and luke are in complete Protective Bro Mode taking care of leo
"So I put my hands up" Vince belted from the top of his lungs, causing Lucas to dissolve in a fit of giggles and turn up the radio. He joined in the singing "They're playin' my song, the butterflies fly away
I'm noddin' my head like-" and then pointed at Vince, who chorused in, "YEeeaahhh"
"You two are awful" Leo groaned from the passenger seat, rubbing his temples.
"Moving my hips like yeah!" Vin yelled from the back and Lucas snorted loudly.
"It's a party in the USA!"
"God" Leo sighed, leaning his head against the window.
"Cheer the fuck up, Leo!" Vin squealed, shoving his big body between the passenger and driver's seat and shaking Leo's arm, "it's the song of our people!"
"...Your people?" Leo groaned, slapping Vince's hand away from his arm, "dumbasses?"
Lucas rolled his eyes, "you started dating Jonah a week ago, why is he already rubbing off on you?"
"Fuck off, Luke" Leo scoffed, rubbing his face and glaring out of the windshield. A heavy silence settled and Vince scoffed, slapping Lucas' arm.
"You gone and made it weird, cazzo" he grumbled, before ruffling Leo's blonde hair, "what's up kiddo, you're all mopey."
"Don't call me kiddo" Leo sighed and then bit down a groan as he felt his stomach flip flop. It felt like it was filled to the brim with hot soup, even though the last he had eaten was bland oatmeal, followed by his anti nausea medication. Said medication that had promised to knock him out and give him a blissful six hours of cross country trip. Clearly it wasn't working.
"Answer the question, you little prick."
"I'm just... Just feeling bleh" Leo blushed. Suddenly he felt like the worst person ever. Not only he was a hassle to deal with by constantly getting carsick, but he was also bringing down the mood of the car. Vince and Luke had been so happy not even a minute before and now they were both frowning, looking at him with twin faces of concern.
"Bleh?" Luke repeated, "as in a headache or I'm gonna throw up in the car bleh?"
"Uhm," Leo curled up in himself, "a little bit of both..." his stomach churned, "maybe more the second."
"What the heck, you're sitting on the front and you took meds!" Vince whined, "I thought that wasn't supposed to happen!"
"Me too, sorry" Leo mumbled and Vince winced.
"No man, I'm not mad at you, I'm mad for you. This sucks" he ran his fingers through Leo's hair without thinking, catching Lucas' eyes on the rear view mirror and doing that twin thing they did, where they talked with just their eyes.
Leo groaned and leaned onto Vince's touch. Vin's hands were always a touch too warm, but at least they were solid and steady, a change from the sensation of the moving car.
"Leo," Lucas reached in to squeeze his leg in a reassuring manner, "do I need to pull over?"
Leo thought about it for a second. He really wanted to say he could do until the next gas stop, but his stomach was going from angry to fucking furious and he could already taste his breakfast in the back of his throat, "...Please."
"It's okay buddy" Lucas nodded, swiftly slowing down the car and turning up the emergency sign. He parked on the dust shoulder and Leo groaned, unlocking the door with a shaky hand.
"I'll be right back" he mumbled, then dizzily stepped out of the car, trying to salvage a scrap of his dignity. He made it to the back of the car and crouched down on the gravel, using the trunk to support his arms.
Inside the car, Vince watched as Leo, pale as a ghost suddenly disappeared from view and he raised a startled eyebrow "uh... I think we just lost the baby."
Lucas snorted, "he'll be pissed if he hears you call him that...Even"
"Odd" Vince said, then threw up his hand in the space between them, holding up two fingers. Lucas had only held up one and he sighed, seeing the results of their childish match. Vince grinned, "rough, bud" he said, kicking Lucas' driver seat.
Lucas rolled his eyes, "give me a water bottle" he asked, taking it and getting out of the car. He cringed as he approached the back and found Leo hunched down, with a small puddle of chunky white and brown puke before him.
"Hey" he said softly, crouching down too and planting a hand on Leo's back. Today he was wearing a long sleeved henley and its back was already drenched in sweat, "Leo, you're done, man."
"Uhm," Leo gagged weakly, "don't..." he let out a small burp, "don't think so."
"Okay, take your time" Lucas planted a hand in the middle of his back, "why are you almost on all fours?"
"Didn't want you to-" Leo interrupted himself with a painful heave and brought up a mouthful more of brown liquid "ah fuck..."
Lucas wrinkled his nose at the mess. He wasn't one to be bothered by vomit, but this stank, "get it up," he said gently, rubbing Leo's back a little forcefully.
A minute later Leo let out a queasy moan and almost lost his hold on the trunk as he heaved. Lucas grabbing his shirt was the only thing keeping him from face planting, as he brought up a lot more vomit.
He stopped puking and hung over it, breathing strongly "I'm..." he paused and spat in the puddle "I'm done."
"Alright" Lucas grunted, since his legs were starting to ache from the awkward crouched down position, "up we go"
"You talk like such a dad, Lucas" Leo chuckled weakly, stumbling away from the mess and resting against the car, "fuck my stomach hurts."
"Yeah, I'd expect so" Lucas handed him the water bottle "the fuck did you eat for breakfast, battery acid?"
Leo lowered the water bottle before it could touch his lips and gagged at the mention of his breakfast, glaring at Lucas, who had the decency of blushing and mumbling "sorry."
He waited patiently as Leo swished the water around his mouth, spat it and then took a tiny sip, trying to regulate his breathing.
"It's staying down?"
"Uhm... Not sure" Leo pressed the cold water bottle to his forehead, "I'm very dizzy, Luke."
"Meds did fuck-all" Lucas noted, rubbing his arm, "we'll stop at the next gas stop we find, get you some of the real stuff."
"No point" Leo squeezed his eyes, "...doubt I could keep it down now."
"We'll try anyway" Lucas promised, then fidgeted, "ready to get back in the car?"
Leo nodded, albeit he wasn't so sure. Just the thought of being in a moving car, again, was making him anxious. Speaking of anxious, as soon as he sat back down, Vince was the perfect picture of a worried mother, combing his hair back, hands on his clammy neck and forehead.
"How are you feeling, Leo?"
"Like crap" Leo sighed, cheeks blushing because he couldn't stop himself from leaning onto Vince's touch, "I hate my fucking stomach."
"Me too, kid" Vince sighed, rubbing his shoulders as Lucas started the car back up, "Uhm, I got you a bag..."
It was a nice gesture, but it made Leo's stomach clench from the sheer humiliation, let alone the nausea. Why couldn't he be like the other two, just hanging out, having the time of their lives?
"Thanks" Leo mumbled, taking it and leaving it on his lap. He knew he was far from empty, even if he hadn't eaten much for breakfast, Jonah had made sure he ate more than one yogurt he was planning to have. Now he was regretting it.
Thinking of his boyfriend at least brought up the small ounce of relief that he wasn't around for such a pathetic display. Even if Jonah had seen him sick a million times before, at least this was one less.
His belly churned as Lucas pulled the car into the road and Leo kept his eyes shut. He wasn't sure if it was helping with the motion sickness, so he forced them to open, only to catch his two best friends in the act of silently communicating.
"You guys can speak about me out loud, thanks" Leo grumbled, wrapping an arm around his tender belly. It was nauseating and awful the fact that he could genuinely feel his bloated belly somersault under his arm.
"Just worrying about you, Leo" Vince sighed and kept petting his hair, "it's a long trip..."
Yes, six long hours and only one had passed. Just the thought that he still had five more hours of a car trip made his stomach turn unpleasantly, "please just punch me really hard..."
Vince chuckled, while Lucas pouted, "I don't think a concussion is really gonna help you on terms of feeling queasy, kiddo."
Leo chose to ignore the kiddo, just this once. He let out a groan and leaned his head back, into Vince's touch, "I'll just try to stay really still."
And he tried. He almost managed, pushing down the nausea for several minutes, letting out the tiniest burps that kept rolling up and tickling his throat, but bringing no real relief.
The car was silent now, the radio turned off and it was so quiet that all three guys could hear the rolling and churning of Leo's stomach. A gurgle made him cradle his belly and swallow in the acid tickling the back of his throat.
"Leo..."
"I'm- I'm fine..." he grumbled, getting a hand under his shirt and squeezing his tummy with his fingers. He burped, this one a real belch and felt something frothy claw its way up, "Ow..." he dizzily grabbed the bag in his lap, trying to get it open.
"Here, here" Vince reached in, despite the fact he was too big to keep squeezing himself in the tiny space between passenger and driver. He held up the bag for Leo, who grabbed it with both hands, leaning over it and trying not to puke.
He couldn't force his mouth to close, drool hit the plastic and he groaned loudly, no longer caring if he was embarrassing himself. Leo had the faint idea that Lucas and Vince were speaking about him, but he wasn’t sure what was being said, all that mattered was the growing sensation of being squeezed from his middle-
“UUURkk” he heaved and almost lost his grip on the bag. Vince’s hand cupped his forehead, keeping his head and aim steady and Leo gagged again, bringing up all of the remnants of his breakfast in one large gush that simply didn’t stop. Probably his dinner too.
Oatmeal was the worst coming up, he decided, coughing and trying to get rid of the flakes in his throat, which kept triggering his gag reflex - He coughed up another torrent of liquid and the bag got heavy enough to sit on his lap and causing him to heave again, out of sheer disgust.
“You’re empty” Vince was saying gently, “Leo, you’re empty, breathe.”
“Can’t” he gasped, eyes squeezed shut, “it’s in my thr-” he retched again and finally dislodged the little flakes which were making everything worse.
Leo’s hands trembled and he started to lower them, with the bag, only to feel Vince let go of his head to grab at it before all the vomit spilled over. He bunched it closed in one hand and Leo pressed his forehead to the car door. The wind was welcome against his face, wiping away the smell of puke that was making his stomach roil more.
“Leo?”
“I’m fine...” he mumbled dizzily, only for his shoulder to hitch and a small mouthful of puke to land on his shirt, “oh no...”
He heard Vince cursing something in italian, but Leo felt exhausted... And so queasy still, he couldn’t force himself to pay attention.
“Gonna be sick”
“You don’t have anything else to bring up, kiddo” Lucas said, only for Vince to snort.
“Don’t challenge him” Vince warned, holding the bag with one hand cupping Leo’s cheek with the other, “we need to stop, Luke, get a new bag, some napkins... Leo, hey,” he patted his cheek gently “stay in the land of the living.”
“I’m here” Leo turned his face, despite the droplets of puke clinging to his chin and buried his nose and eyes in Vince’s large palm, trying to block everything. He wanted the world to stop fucking twirling.
His belly felt like it was filled with liquid still, sloshing from side to side and he was so dizzy... His mouth watered and he groaned, gagging in Vince’s palm.
“Luke!”
“I’m pulling over, calm down!”
“Don’t tell me to calm down!” Vince scoffed and then the entire world came to a halt, chill air flooded the car as suddenly Leo was tipped forward, just as another rush of vomit came out of his mouth.
It stung his throat and nose, bile and water, nothing more. He hung awkwardly, half outside the car, half in and whined, unable to get it together.
“Okay” Lucas was saying, holding him put, “alright, new plan...”
“Yeah?” Vince sounded eager to listen to the new plan. There was a beat of silence, interrupted only by Leo, retching again.
“Uhm,” Lucas sighed, “maybe get him lying down in the back, I’ll try to find a new bag and we can drive to a motel. There’s no way we’re making to New York with him in this state...”
“Noo” Leo whined,grabbing the door to force himself to sit up, “we’ll miss the concert.”
“Fuck the concert,” Lucas rolled his eyes, “who cares? Leo, you’re scari-”
“I care” Leo clenched his jaw, and yes he did. It hadn’t been cheap or easy to get the ticket, he was not Lucas Atwood who just got tickets sent to his household. He cared a fucking lot actually, “please.”
Vince groaned, “Lucas don’t fall for his puppy eyes.”
“Please” Leo repeated, turning to look at Vince, who immediately sighed, nodding his head.
“You’ll get yourself killed, kid.”
“I’m fine” Leo shook his head, before gagging softly “Well, I will be fine... Let’s not tell Jonah about this.”
I've been struggling to write a full story lately and I'm sorry about that but I am thinking thoughts today that I want to share specifically about. someone eating a whole cake. there's just so many good situations that can come from it?
ok here's some thoughts btw and it ended up super long so buckle up:
someone who bakes a whole huge birthday cake for a birthday party that ends up cancelled. maybe it's someone else's so it's more disappointing than anything else; maybe it's their own and they're also heartbroken and hurt that nobody came or that the party couldn't happen. so they cut themself a slice of the cake as a consolation and it tastes so good and makes them feel a little better so they cut themself another. and then another. and then another. until they lift the knife and notice the platter is cleared and their stomach is full.
or maybe someone who had a hard day at work, so they stop at the grocery store to get one of the small cakes for themself, only they're sold out of the mini cakes. they do have plenty regular cakes, and they figure it can't hurt to cut themself a piece off of that, only they get home and pick up a fork like they would have if it was a single serve cake and just start eating. and they don't stop until the entire thing is gone, just like they would have otherwise.
or maybe someone who is at an event with too many dessert options, and after having one too many drinks with their friends, they get dared to eat one of the whole cakes that has thus far remained untouched. it doesn't seem like that big of a deal to their drunk mind, so they accept the dare and start eating. partway through, they realize it's a mistake, but they're already so far in and they can't possibly lose a dare.
or maybe someone is meant to go on a special date with their partner, but their partner breaks up with them instead. they go to their reservation alone and, when the waiter brings out the cake they had pre-ordered, they get lost in eating the cake alone without anyone to share it with and reminiscing over the relationship they've lost. they don't even realize they've been in a daze eating the whole thing until it's already gone.
or maybe someone who took home a cake as leftovers from a party a couple of weeks ago and forgot about it before now. they're cleaning out their fridge and find the container it was placed in and think that it's just cake and surely cake really can't go bad. they also can't justify putting it back in the fridge after taking it out, so they just mindlessly pick at it as they continue working. before they know it, the fridge is cleaned out, and so is their plate. it's also then that they start to realize that maybe a cake can go bad and give them food poisoning, if they aren't careful enough- and it seems like they weren't.
or maybe someone with an allergy who didn't realize that the cake they've been eating that tastes so good has a food that they cannot have in it. maybe it's something that causes a little bit of digestive upset, or maybe it's something that causes a lot of digestive upset (and more). either way, they don't find out about the incorrect allergen ingredient until after they've already scarfed down the whole entire thing and they're already starting to notice the early warning signs of a reaction.
or maybe someone who is a supernatural being who cannot consume cake in the first place. maybe they ended up at a wedding or a birthday or some sort of party where they're expected to eat human food, and this being that cannot digest human food, let alone one so dense and sugary and heavy. they're not sure how much a human would eat and end up consuming the whole thing, despite the fact that they are incapable of processing it.
or maybe someone who truly just loves cake and can't help themself once they're near one. they can't stop going back just for how much they love every bite they take. they feel an intense craving for cake today and can't stop eating, going back for more slices and bites. they don't see any reason not to with how much they enjoy it. at least, they don't see why not until they start to realize they've somehow fit an entire cake inside themself.
but regardless of how it happens, every one of these people would start experiencing pretty much the same thing afterwards I think:
a massive sugar rush that makes them feel all prickly with their heart beating too fast, their palms getting all sweaty, their stomach unable to properly digest anything with how quickly everything in their body seems to be moving and rushing along.
this would also like be followed by a similarly massive sugar crash, where their body refuses to do much of anything at all. their whole system starts getting so sluggish and struggles to process the sheer amount of they've stuffed themself with.
all the sugar and fat and flour and cream and everything in the cake is probably starting to give them an upset stomach. they would start bloating quite a bit, feeling a lot of indigestion as their belly struggles to process the cake they've eaten.
an even bigger problem is the sheer amount of cake they've eaten. there's so much of it inside of them that their stomach has had to expand to accommodate the amount and stretched out to fill them up as much as they can be filled, leaving them uncomfortable and bloated and stuffed.
their digestion slows down even more with the cake they've eaten, and they feel even more sluggish inside and out. after a while it feels like they aren't digesting anything at all, and the indigestion joins up with the acid reflux from the rich, creamy cake to have them hiccupping and burping and the feeling that some of their belches bring up a little bit of regurgitated cake with them.
a throbbing headache from all the sugar and a sense of exhaustion. they're so worn out that they try to lay down to sleep it off or at least rest, and even drink a little water to help with potential dehydration, but they're struggling to get any rest with how full their stomach is and how much it's starting to feel more and more uncomfortable.
they probably ate so much they upset the balance in their stomach. all the good bacteria has been disrupted and unbalanced by the bad coming in, and it bloats them out even more until they're filled with rumbling discomfort, too much air, filled with cake. it's probably more and more uncomfortable every second.
it's also probably getting soooooo noisy in their belly. once their stomach realizes how stuffed and upset it is, it definitely is going to start protesting and protesting loudly. all that sugar would start fermenting in their guts, which would definitely cause a lot of bubbling and burbling noises. not only that but their tummy and guts and intestines trying to break down all that sugar and fat and flour is going to sound really liquidy inside them- probably really gurgly the entire time it's trying to digest.
eventually, though, they're going to realize digestion is impossible. like they ultimately probably just won't be able to digest it all. at that point, probably:
after stuffing that much into themselves it would've been a miracle to be able to process it through their system. their digestion is going to start really struggling after not very long at all. it'll probably start rumbling really loudly. it wants them to know how upset it is and will give them long, deep, growling noises that keep rolling through their belly.
eventually the gas will build up, too. it won't just be all the cake they stuffed in themself that they just cannot digest, but they're going to get so bloated and uncomfortable. everything will feel like it's bubbling, from their throat down through their chest into their belly and their guts and down to their ass. it's all going to feel so, so full inside of them, but they've already eaten everything so there's really not much else to do at this point except try and get through it.
the upset brewing in their belly will eventually start churning its way up into a small storm inside of them. the water they tried to drink is making them feel a little sloshy, more liquidy noises churning up as everything churns together. their belly tries to process everything, even trying to push a little through into their intestines, and it starts making these popping feelings, along with these tight, high-pitched squeaks and whines and whimpers as their stomach tries to expand and take it all.
the little bubbles in the gas inside them will become bigger and bigger, shifts and pings and pops inside them that eventually become bigger belches. at first, they're probably hiccuppy burps, before they're starting to get deeper and wetter and combining with the acid reflux a little bit to bring up a little bit of the undigested and poorly-chewed cake in their belly at the end of each hard belch.
they're going to really start regretting it when their stomach starts threatening to empty itself and reject the sheer amount of cake that has been stuffed inside of it. they can run to the bathroom and try to get some of it out, but their belly hasn't managed to digest enough to get anything out that way.
they can try to feel better in other ways, especially since the bloat and discomfort and nausea are only growing. they try to drink more water to flush the sugar through their system, and they try to drink a little bit of tea, maybe ginger or peppermint, and they try to go for a little walk to get their belly to settle and encourage it to digest. unfortunately, they had so much that none of that is enough to get their stomach to settle down inside of them, as angry as it is.
eventually they're going to feel like their mouth is watering, fighting against the stomach acid attempting to claw its way up inside them. they'll probably feel something of a cold sweat coming on, and they'll go to lay down and be by themselves, away from everybody else. as they're walking to bed, they probably feel a little shaky, dizzy, sweaty. it's not easy to get into pajamas and lay down in bed on their own, but they manage it.
their digestive system is still trying to process everything, even if it's fighting a losing battle, and they just can't stop the sick, wet burps that keep coming. their stomach keeps spasming, the muscles fighting to push everything through, but failing to do so. it's probably only going to make them more uncomfortable and nauseated as it gets worse and worse.
they'll probably feel weak and exhausted. they're so drained it's hard to know what to do, but maybe they'll try to drink their tea, or take medicine, or rub their belly where it hurts the most. if someone comes to check on them, maybe they'll ask them to help rub their tummy, too. they're hoping it'll work (it won't).
eventually it just will become too much. they won't be able to fight it anymore. they feel the worst they've ever felt. with an entire cake stuffed inside them, they feel like their overloaded belly is on the brink of tearing them apart. they're too nauseated. after a bit, they realize it's all going to happen soon:
their stomach is just too overloaded. as they're laying there, feeling worse by the second, they start to realize they're just not going to be able to keep it all down. they're going to have to sit up quickly as the miserable queasiness intensifies, a warning snarl building up and forcing its way up their throat as a deep, wet belch that brings up a mouthful of mushed-up cake and stomach acid that they forcefully swallow back down with a loud, liquidy gurgle of protest from their tummy.
they only have seconds to launch themself out of bed. maybe they can't make it out of the room and they get sick in bed, or in the trash can, on their knees and bent over it; maybe they sprint out of their room and into their bathroom, shoving the toilet lids up and slamming down to their knees just in time for a horrible belch to rip up and out of them.
every burp probably tastes worse and worse. at first, it takes like the cake flavors, and the frosting, so thick and cloying and sweet in the back of their throat. it'll become worse as it melts with their stomach acid, becoming acidic and rancid and worse every time they taste it again until just the taste of it is enough to have them gagging. it just intensifies the whole horrible experience.
they try to breathe deeply, their whole body overheating and sweaty. even as they try to keep everything down, swallowing compulsively to keep it all in their tummy, taking long deep breaths, they don't think they can manage it. another deep belch rolls up, heavy and loud, and their stomach feels like a stormy battlefield, tumultuous and churning inside of them.
the heaviness in their belly will try to surge upwards, and they'll retch, spitting up a mouthful of sickly sweet and too-thick saliva into whatever receptacle they've found. they feel clammy, their stomach twisting violently, they shiver as pressure rises inside them and they belch sickly, deeply, tears pricking in their eyes. even when they try to take another deep breath, it's not enough, and they end up gagging on the end of it.
that's when everything will finally come rushing upwards. the cake went in one bite at a time, but it'll feel like it wants to come out all at once, a rush that gets squeezed up from inside of them and rips out in a violent surge. one gush after another will be forced out of them as their body finally rejects the entire cake they crammed down into their overstretched, churning, miserable tummy.
their belly will be determined to empty itself entirely. they won't be able to stop, expelling the cake one wave at a time, purging the contents one mouthful at a time. they'll wrap their arms around their stomach, or clutch the toilet or trash can or whatever they have, they'll probably cry as they can't stop emptying themselves until they're panting and gasping for air.
it'll take a while to get everything out of them. could take a long time, even, where they have to keep lurching back upwards and belching up another wave of vomit. every time they think they're done, there's another burp and another mouthful of puke pulled up. it's like their body is determined to make sure they feel the most regret possible over what they've done wrong today in eating an entire cake.
and then. they'll have to deal with the after effects.....
at first, there might even be a sense of relief. they aren't as full as they had been now that everything is out of them, feeling as if the worst has finally passed. their abused, tormented stomach is probably still gurgling weakly, rumbly and pathetic, occasionally forcing up another hiccup or burp.
their throat probably feels raw. their body is covered in a sticky sweat, pajamas clinging to them. they'll shakily get up and have to flush or rinse out whatever they got sick into. it'll be difficult to shower, but they have to to get the layer of grime off of them. by the time they get back in bed, they're practically collapsing into it. they probably groan when their stomach gives a sickly gurgle, rumbling in response to everything it's been through.
every now and then, their stomach will shudder. they try to take small, slow sips of water, but those make their tummy start to protest again, liquidy little gurgles bubbling up and making their nausea swell a little bit. they have to force themself to stop and set their water aside and take slow, deep breaths, closing their eyes and trying to sleep off the last of it.
they feel a little lighter, though they're exhausted and still have a rumbly tummy. their head and belly are both throbbing, and they just close their eyes and slowly rub their hand over their abused stomach, soft and gurgly under their palm. a mild nausea still lingers, but they just want to sleep through it.
their night is probably plagued with a lot of uncomfortable insomnia. they'll have heartburn, keep hiccupping and burping throughout the entire night, and probably so much acid reflux. they'll probably feel really restless, unable to stop moving, their stomach pushing them to continue shifting and writhing in bed all night long.
the next morning, they'll feel so sluggish and worn-out and exhausted, the results of overeating so much sugar, working so hard to purge it back out, and then spending a relatively sleepless night afterwards. they'll feel dehydrated and weak, their tummy will feel heavy and uncomfortable and bloated. their digestive system is probably still trying to work; they might even have to spend some time in the bathroom because of it.
even though they know that trying to eat something else might settle their stomach, they don't think they could manage to get anything to stay down if they swallowed it, even something small or savory. even the thought of eating a cracker makes them burp weakly in the back of their throat. they are full of so many things, and mostly, they are full of regrets for eating the whole cake in the first place.
they can try to stretch or take a walk or have a light breakfast or drink some water. they should probably try to have some electrolytes or something. if they can manage to keep it down. their system definitely needs to be flushed after everything they've done to it.
yeah so. you know. just thinking a lot about someone who might eat an entire cake. you know how it goes.
you're lying in bed, your gf fast asleep on top of you. you can feel her bloated stomach's movements against yours. you both kinda overindulged at the lunch buffet earlier in the day, and then you had a dinner at a fancy restaurant because you couldn't cancel the table reservation on such short notice and didn't want to waste it, and she was complaining about still feeling uncomfortably full when you went to bed but you felt fine and you thought she was exaggerating because she knows you find it cute.
now however as you listen to (and feel) her stomach gurgling, you realise she was probably not exaggerating at all. she's still asleep and you don't wanna wake her, but as her breathing becomes more rapid and shallow, you wonder if you should, just in case.
"babe?" you say softly, nudging her gently. she moans, and a trickle of drool drips from her lips as she does so. alright, you think, so this is happening... "babe, wake up..."
her eyes flutter open and you can see the sleepy confusion turn into dismay into panic into resignation... "mmmgonna puke," she mumbles.
"alright," you reply, trying to think. "it's alright, babe." you move as swiftly as you can, while trying not to jostle her too much and hasten the inevitable. you help her sit up (and wince in sympathy as you see how bloated her stomach really is) and look around for a solution.
your gf lets out a miserable groan accentuated by a wet burp, and her body slumps forward. there's no way she's making it into the bathroom. "gonna... *urrp* puke..." she repeats, as if you didn't realise that already.
you finally spot the trash bin and lunge for it, and place it in her lap. you sit next to her and put your arm around her. "it's alright, babe," you say again, trying to offer some reassurance.
still, it takes several minutes for anything to happen beyond the increasingly sickly burps that erupt from her lips. she's so nauseous she's shaking in your arms, clutching the trash bin with both hands, and you want to help her find release so you rub her bloated belly, applying gentle pressure that makes her whimper out loud...
and then finally, a burp turns into a gag midway through. her entire body clenches with the force of the heave that follows, bringing up a disappointingly small trickle of vomit. she gasps and moans, and you continue to push a little harder... and her body responds with another heave, this time bringing up a more substantial amount splashing into the bin. and then it seems like she can't stop, so you just hold her and murmur soothing words you're not sure she can hear.
I love having a friend that isn’t afraid or embarrassed to puke in front of me. Me and my friend were on a trip for spring break. We were hanging with a group of friends and spent the day eating tons (including a lot of dairy) and smoking. Later that night we got a couple bottles to drink. After drinking for a few hours we all called it a night. I shared a bed with this friend. They complained a little about their stomach bothering them before we went to bed but insisted they were fine. When I woke the next morning my friend was sleeping on his back looking rather uncomfortable. We had to get ready to leave for some plans so I woke them up. They were very groggy and groaned while holding their stomach. I asked if they were ok and the said they just needed a minute. This friend gets nauseous a lot so I asked if he needed a bag incase they got sick (I had put bags on their side of the bed before ewe went to bed that night) they insisted that they didn’t. Not even a few seconds my friend shot up with a hand over their mouth and hurriedly asked for the bag. I stubbled around in the dark for the bags I placed earlier and just managed to grab one before they violently threw up into it. They coughed and puked again into the bag that I held. I could feel the hot chunky liquid filling the bag. It smelled sour and almost a little sweet. In the break between them puking I went to the bathroom to grab the trashcan and quickly switched the bag with the trashcan. They threw up a few more times before gagging over the trashcan for a couple minutes. Somehow we managed not to get puke on anything. I cleaned everything up and got them some water. They managed to keep the water down so I gave them some meds for the nausea. I was shaking the whole time but damn it was hot.
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Just got back from a retirement party for my old band directors. We did so many shots and mixed drinks it was an amazing time. What wan even more amazing is that my friend (older alumni, hot as fuck) got super wasted. At first he was really handsy and cuddly which was amazing. But as the night went on he started to slow on his drinks (multiple shots of tequila and 2-3 mixed drinks with double tequila) he disappeared into the bathroom. After. While he came out complaining that he was really nauseous but ok. As time went on we could tell he was starting to feel worse. We convinced him to sit an after a while he thought he was gonna puke so we took him out the front of the bar. He puked quite a few times in the trash outside before he was too tired to stand. I held him out the steps outside where he puked repeatedly. I was so fucking hard hearing him gag and burp up all that alcohol. He waited with me in the car while his friend took my band directors car home (he was wasted but was convinced to barhop). He managed not to puke in my car but when he friend came back, he puked a few times in a bag before puking down the side of the his car. Wish I could have rode back with him and held him while he moaned and gagged over the bag.
Okay here is the IRL story I mentioned the last week. This has taken me longer than I thought it would because bf ended up being very sick like all weekend and just started feeling better today. I’m gonna write it in 3rd person though cause it’s hard for me to write about myself in nsfw settings. Also its been a while since I've written anything remotely sexy so we'll see how this goes lol.
Tw: depictions of vomit
Tw: mild nsfw under the cut so please do not read if you are under 18 or are uncomfortable with sexual content
“Good morning,” carter said when summer opened her eyes. He was already awake, scrolling through something on his phone.
“You’re up early,” she said, surprised. He didn’t have to work until 9 so she figured she’d be heading to school before he was even awake.
“Yeah I don’t know I just woke up,” he shrugged, grabbing her by the waist and pulling her close to kiss her. She sighed, draping a leg over his waist to press herself even closer as she deepened the kiss.
“You wanna hop in the shower with me since we have some extra time?” Summer asked, although what she had in mind wasn’t exactly showering.
“Say no more,” Carter said, picking her up bridal style and carrying her to the bathroom.
“Oh my god,” Hazel laughed, ducking to narrowly avoided hitting her head on the doorframe as they walked through it.
He set her down, leaning over to turn the shower on as Hazel giggled, pulling off the t-shirt she'd been sleeping in. Once the water was warm Carter pulled off his boxers and stepped into the shower, grabbing Hazel by the waist to pull her in with him.
"Mmm hey," she said softly, running her hands up his sides.
"You're beautiful," he said, already sounding out of breath. He pushed her up against the wall, making her gasp at the cold tile against her back. He braced himself against the wall with one hand and grabbed her hip with the other, pulling her body flush against his.
"Ohh, you feel good," she sighed, grinding her hips against his.
"You feel amazing," he moaned back, leaning his forehead against hers.
She tilted her head up to kiss him, wrapping her arms around his neck. As he deepened the kiss she moved one hand up to cup the back of his head. They made out for a minute, then Carter dropped his head down against her shoulder, bucking his hips against Hazel's.
She pressed even closer, turning her head to kiss his neck, making him shiver against her. Hazel wrapped one leg around his to get a better angle, when she realized that he wasn't hard anymore.
"Car?" she asked, pulling back slightly.
"Hmm?" he asked, looking somewhat dazed.
"You okay?"
"Uh, actually my stomach feels kinda weird," he said, bringing a hand up to rest over his belly.
“Weird how?” She asked, resting her hand on top of his.
Instead or answering though, he suddenly turned around and pitched over, throwing up into the shower drain.
“Oh shit okay, alright, you’re okay,” Hazel cursed, thrown off guard. She quickly regained her composure and stepped behind him, placing a hand on his back to rub gently as he continued to heave over the drain.
“Fuck,” he spat, slowly straightening up.
“Do you feel any better?” She asked, wrapping an arm around him. He leaned against her, dropping his head down onto her shoulder.
“Not really..” he mumbled.
“Do you want to sit down? You’re looking pretty pale,” she said, worried he might pass out.
"Oh god," he mumbled, pressing a fist to his mouth as he let out a low belch, "I need to get out," he said.
"Okay, here hold on," Hazel said, turning off the water then reaching out to grab two towels for them. She quickly wrapped one around her chest then wrapped the other towel around Carter's waist, helping him tie it.
"I'm gonna throw up again," he said, reaching shaky hands out toward Hazel.
"Come here, I've got you," Hazel said, quickly stepping out and grabbing Carter's hands to help him out of the shower as well. He immediately dropped down onto his knees in front of the toilet, vomiting again.
"Oh sweetie," Hazel sighed, crouching behind him to rub his back. He leaned over the bowl, dry heaving, with nothing left to bring up. After a few more heaves Hazel wrapped an arm around his chest, pulling him back away from the toilet.
"N-not done," he coughed.
"You're empty love, try to breathe," she said, sitting down with her back against the wall.
He retched dryly again but let her maneuver him to sit between her legs, his back resting against her chest. She looped her arm around him so her hand rested on the middle of his stomach, rubbing gently back and forth to help soothe the contracting muscles.
After a few more minutes he was able to calm down, slowly relaxing back against Hazel. He dropped his head back onto her shoulder and turned to press his face into her neck. She could feel the heat radiating off of his forehead.
"That came on pretty fast huh?" she said softly, bringing her other hand up to card through his hair.
"Yeah... I don't know what happened," he groaned.
"How do you feel now?" she asked.
"Cold. Body hurts," he shrugged, shivering against her body in his towel.
"I think you've got a fever," she nodded, pressing her cheek against his head.
"My stomach's still pretty upset," he added, punctuating his sentence with a muffled burp.
"I'm sorry hon, let's go get some clothes and then we can get you set up on the couch," she said, giving his tummy one more rub before she removed her hands, placing them on his back to help him sit up.
"I need to call in to work. I really don't feel good," he said.
"Yeah you definitely should not go to work today," Hazel agreed. She scooted out from behind him and stood up, moving to step in front of him to help him up. She slowly pulled him to his feet, wrapping her arm around his waist so he could lean on her as they walked out to the living room. He was still pretty pale and felt a little shaky.
Hazel grabbed some clothes for both of them, and carefully helped Carter get dressed in a white t and some loose sweats, then they slowly made their way to the couch. Carter laid down, squirming around in discomfort, sliding a hand up under the t-shirt. His face was pale and his eyes looked hazy and far away.
"I really don't feel good," he said quietly.
"I know love, I'm sorry. How about you call in real quick, and then pick something to watch. I'm gonna go get ready for school real quick and then I'll sit with you until I have to leave," she said, leaning over to kiss his cheek.
He nodded, giving her a forced smile. She gave a sad smile back before heading back to their room to finish getting ready for class. He'd been just fine when they'd woken up and got in the shower. It had just happened so fast.
When she came back he was laying down watching moana, which was always his go to when he wasn't feeling well. She sat down on the edge of the couch reaching out to cup his face. He definitely felt warm.
"Hey," she said softly.
"Hey.." he replied, sounding sad and miserable.
"How are you feeling?" she asked.
"Not great," he shrugged, turning his face to press against her leg.
"Can you sit up and drink some water for me?" she asked, worried by how pale he looked.
He nodded against her leg, letting her help him slowly maneuver himself into a sitting position. He leaned against Hazel as she reached forward to grab the glass of water she'd gotten him.
With shaking hands he took the glass and took a small, careful sip, before laying back down, this time with his head in Hazel's lap. She started playing with his hair, keeping her other hand draped over his waist to rest gently on his stomach.
After a minute he grabbed the hand that was on her stomach, moving it up under his shirt to rest on his skin. She could feel his stomach gurgling and churning the water he'd drank.
"I don't think it's sitting very well.." he said quietly.
"Yeah it doesn't feel too good in there, I'm sorry hon," she frowned, rubbing gentle circles into his angry belly.
"I'm feeling nauseous again," he groaned.
"Okay, here let me up for a second and I'll go grab a bucket so you don't have to try and make it to the bathroom if something does happen," she said, carefully lifting his head off of her lap and sliding out.
She returned a minute later with a bucket, which she set in front of the couch near his head so he could easily reach it. He had curled in on himself and was looking somehow even more pale, maybe even slightly green tinged. Poor thing.
He belched against her thigh, which turned into a heave that he quickly swallowed down. He whimpered, lips drawn into a tight line.
“Ookay, come on, up you go,” Hazel said, sliding an arm under him to lift him up into a sitting position, head positioned over the bucket.
“I don’t want to..” he sobbed, tears starting to spill over.
“Aw honey I know. It’ll be over soon,” she said, scooting over to sit behind him, one leg on either side of his hips. She wrapped an arm around his stomach and one around his chest, leaning him forward a little as his mouth hung open from the nausea.
“Oh god,” carter gulped, “my tummy’s really not feeling so good.”
“Shh shh I’ve got you, just let it happen,” Hazel said quietly, rubbing firm but gentle circles over his aching tummy. She could feel it churning and lurching, trying to throw up.
Carter pitched forward with a burp that brought up a mouthful of mostly water.
“Easy Car, try to breathe through it,” Hazel said study, tightening her grip on him to support his weight as he leaned forward. He gagged again, coughing up some spit and bile.
He spat into the bucket, then slowly straightened up, slumping back against Hazel. She brought a hand up to smooth his hair back from his face, leaving her other hand on his stomach.
“You think you’re done? There’s probably not anything left in there,” she said, patting his tummy gently.
“Mmhmm,” he hummed tiredly.
“You wanna lay down?” Hazel asked.
“Will you hold me for a minute?” Carter asked quietly, turning to press his face into her neck, still burning with fever.
“Of course love,” she answered, heart breaking for her boy.
“I just want to be close to you..” he said, sounding miserable.
“I’m right here,” Hazel pulled him a little closer to her, holding him tight. “Do you feel any better?”
“Mmm belly hurt,” he shrugged.
“I’ll get you some medicine in a minute, before I leave for class,” Hazel said. She scooted out from behind him and helped him lay back down so she could get up.
She grabbed the bucket on her way out, flushing it and cleaning it out. Hazel brought it back then went into the kitchen first to heat up some water for tea, which usually helped Carter’s stomach when it was bothering him. Then she got him some ibuprofen for the fever.
“Here babe, sit up,” she said, sitting at the edge of the couch.
He slowly pushed himself up into a sitting position, leaning against Hazel’s shoulder. She pressed the two pills into his hand and then held out the glass of water. He obediently downed the medicine bringing a hand up to cradle his lower belly. Hazel only hoped he could keep it down.
She heard the teapot start whistling so she got up to steep some peppermint tea for him. When she came back Carter was laying down again with his eyes closed.
“Hey I made you some tea, it might help settle your stomach so drink some if you can,” she said, setting it down on the coffee table in front of him.
“Hmm,” he answered noncommittally.
“I have to go to class now. You gonna be okay?” She asked.
“Yeah,” he shrugged, cracking an eye open to look at her, “Wish you could stay though.”
“I know, I do too,” Hazel brushed his hair out of his eyes then leaned down to press a kiss to his forehead.
“Hmph,” he whined, grabbing her wrist to keep her there.
“The bucket is right here, you’ve got water and tea, and there’s ibuprofen right here, you can take another one in a few hours if you need to. And text me if you need anything okay? Just try to sleep I’ll be home before you know it,” she said, kissing his cheek before she headed to her room to grab her backpack, and slipped out. She could only hope he’d be okay by himself all day.
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