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#OC stomach ache
whumpuss · 5 months
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dovewingkinnie · 3 months
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cat and dog
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indigobrushpen · 8 months
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alone together
Felicia was curled up on the couch when you finally got back home, and she had a stomach ache.
She didn't tell you this, but you sorta knew just by looking at her- her pale face tight with discomfort, her lips pursed into a grimace, her large belly pressing against her dress, her hands resting over the swell-
And the fact that the dinner party she was supposed to be at didn't end until an hour later from now. She was still in her fancy blue dress.
"Hey," you called, kicking off your shoes. You made your way to the living room and Felicia gave you a tight, almost fake smile.
"Hi," she said, struggling to suppress a grimace. You spotted the large empty soup bowl and an empty Nestea can- and some napkins and crumbs - on the coffee table, and you thought, Oh.
" 'S everything alright?" you asked, sitting next to her. Felicia fidgeted, half-surprised.
"Hmm? Oh- oh, no, I'm perfectly- oooooh."
She was cut off by a sudden, thick gurgle. Her whole face twisted briefly, and she clutched at her stomach, taut and large and swollen.
You placed a hand on the small of her back, prompting her. There was a short silence, and then-
"...I really am okay," Felicia said unconvincingly. "It's just- mmh - my- my tummy just hurts a little bit, that's all."
"The dinner party didn't go well?"
Another fierce, sloshing gurgle. Felicia winced.
"No, no- it- it went well, just- I might've overdone it on the snacks," Felicia tried to smile, but another sharp ache must've run through her because she immediately grimaced. "I- oooh, that's not good..."
You'd seen Felicia at dinner parties before, and the picture was clear in your mind- Felicia downing plates of appetizers in secret, wolfing down her bowl of soup- feeling full and trying to wash it all down with dessert- feeling so abruptly full she couldn't move-
You gently pressed a hand against Felicia's stomach. She groaned a little, and you frowned at the intense bubbling pressure.
"Wow. You're really full, huh? You got a tummy ache?"
"Y-Yeah, I- mmh. Honey, can- can you get me something to drink?" Felicia asked, voice strained. "I-I don't think the Nestea helped much."
"You want water, Coke or Sprite?"
"Mmh- Sprite, please."
You didn't have any Sprite cans, but you did have a quarter of a two-liter. You poured that into a tall glass, snagging an antacid pill along the way (just in case).
Felicia took the glass and smiled gratefully when you returned- though it was a little strained. With one hand resting over her stomach, she chugged the contents in a few gulps.
You watched, transfixed, as she drank. The soda traveling into her pursed lips, throat bobbing with every gulp, chest rising and falling, stomach trembling, pushing at the seams of her fancy dress.
She pulled away shakily, sighing with slight relief, and you took the glass from her hand to set it on the table.
"Thank you," Felicia mumbled. "That helped, I should feel so much better after-"
A sudden, loud gurgle. Felicia's belly protested violently, and Felicia froze.
"After- oooooh," she doubled over slightly, curling in on herself, discomfort on every feature. You immediately put your hand on the small of her back again, rubbing up and down to soothe her.
"Felicia?"
"Ooooh- I- oh, no," Felicia groaned. "That's really not good..."
"Here," you said, bringing your other hand to rest over Felicia's belly. "Let me help?"
Felicia looked slightly confused, but nodded shakily, trying to suppress her pained grimace.
"How- mmh-"
You began to rub firm circles over the plush expanse of Felicia's belly, occasionally switching to stroking up and down. Your hand remained firm against the small of her back, applying extra pressure.
Felicia sighed, slightly contented- and then her tummy gurgled again.
"Ohhh, no," Felicia whispered tightly. You pressed more firmly into her tummy, and she briefly squeezed her eyes shut. "I- I- oooh, my stomach-"
You rubbed a little too firmly. there was a slight gurgling sound, and suddenly Felicia surged forward and belched loudly.
"BHHHHUUUUUUUUURRRRRRGGGGGGHHHHHHHPPPP!"
It took the both of you by surprise- loud and nasty and probably painful. Felicia's stomach must've really hurt, if she had that much trapped gas- and probably more left.
But before you could even say anything, Felicia clapped her hands over her mouth, eyes wide. She looked mortified, face going red.
"...'Scuse me," Felicia managed after a few moments of silence, hands hovering near her mouth.
She looked really, really embarrassed, and she was clearly still in pain, and you knew better than to tease her.
"...You feel any better?"
"What? Oh, mmh- yeah," Felicia said quickly, turning to look away. "I must've cleared up my stomach after... that. Uh, I-I should go and rest, I- mmph!"
Her tummy gurgled, and Felicia clamped her mouth shut, swallowing back a surge of air. There was a slight sloshing sound, and Felicia's face tightened.
"Hey, hey- don't hold back," you urged, rubbing her back. "You'll hurt your stomach. Come on, I'll help."
"H-help?" Felicia hiccupped.
"You need to burp, don't you? Come on, I know that face. Here, I've got you. Go on."
Felicia fidgeted, lips pursed. "You- you aren't grossed out?"
"Of course not," you said. " 'S just a bit of gas, and it'll make you feel better. Go on, it's just me."
Subconsciously, you began to massage her taut, aching stomach- rubbing in wide, soothing circles.
Felicia shakily opened her mouth to respond. "I-"
She made a funny face, placing a hand over her chest. "I- mmh- BHUUUUUUUUURRRGGGGHHHHHPPP! Mmh! 'Scuse me..."
"Feel better?" you said, grinning slightly. Felicia blushed, but nodded.
"A- A little," she admitted sheepishly. She still looked mortified, but a little less uncomfortable. "I- I, uhm-"
"Still need to burp?" you said knowingly. "Man, that soda really-"
"Can you rub my back?" Felicia blurted out. Her belly gurgled, and you absently rubbed at it a little. "I- I just- I'm sorry, but I... I feel something stuck and- and I really don't feel good."
She looked even more mortified than before.
"Don't be sorry," you said immediately. " 'Course I will."
You rubbed her tummy a little more, just to soothe her nerves. With your other hand, you began to stroke generously up and down her back. After a few moments, Felicia seemed to relax a little, her shoulders loosing some of their stiffness.
Her tummy gurgled, though not as loudly as before. Felicia grimaced, then belched.
"BBUUURRRRRGGHHP! Oh, 'scuse me," She daintily pressed her fingers to her mouth, just as you began to pat her back with just a little too much force. Her belly gurgled.
"Mmph- BHUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRGGGHHHP!"
Felicia slapped a hand over her mouth by instinct.
"You're excused," you teased, rhythmically patting her back, and Felicia giggled sheepishly, somewhat less nervous. "But you better say it, just in case."
"Excuse me," Felicia said, a hand on her chest. Then her eyes went wide and she burped loudly, and then, to your delight, she giggled even louder.
"E-Excuse me!" She laughed. "That just- that just slipped out!"
You snickered, patting her back, pressing gently against her stomach. "Damn. What else have you been keeping in there?"
"Probably a bit too much soda," Felicia said jokingly. Her nose twitched and you patted her back again. Felicia belched, but much more quietly.
"BHUURRGGGHP! Mmmh. 'Scuse me. Oh, that last one felt weird, it sort of tickled my throat."
She slumps against you, exhausted. You resume patting her back.
"How's your stomach?"
"My tummy feels a lot better," Felicia admits. The red blush on her face from her previous mortification is still prettily dusted across her cheeks. "Thanks, honey."
"Anytime."
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boysbellyrubs · 4 months
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its been a while but here's this. it's probably not the greatest but i just vomited it up in like half an hour...hehe see what i did there.
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“Ow, oww. Mmh, fuck.” Alistair whined, hugging his upset belly. He swore being at fancy places fucked with his immune system. He ducked his head down and squeezed his middle tightly, the rolling, gurgling organ cramping up tightly. “Gah, ahh, oughh.” Alistair huddled down into the corner, his forehead meeting his knees. He was stuck in the bathroom at the moment, desperately trying to get his stomach to calm down so he could go out and face the multitudes of people in the dining hall. 
As of now, Alistair was attending one of his drama societies meetings as he was the treasurer of the committee. He was perfectly fine before he left, maybe a little queasy from nerves but nothing to be wary of. However, he took one bite of the dinner and knew that he was going to be in for a rough night. 
His hair was tied up in a messy bun, the baby hairs along his hairline were stuck down with sweat and his stomach was in his throat. Alistair moaned at a harsh cramp, a gurgle rippling its way through his intestines. “Where’s Nikau when you need him?” At home. Nikau was at home completely unawares of his boyfriend’s ailments. Nikau was a student that just did the work and nothing more, so when Alistair signed up for the committee Nikau was more than happy to decline the offer. 
Right now Alistair wished Nikau was here. He would hold him and gently guide him out of the building, and everything would be okay. 
Another gurgle and Alistair crumpled down to his knees, harshly hitting the cheap lino. “God, my belly. Jesus.” He whimpered as he felt the food he had eaten squelch its way down and around his stomach, refusing to digest and settle. He burped, but it was small and wet and didn’t do much for him. He tried again, but this time it made him gag. 
“Mmh, okay, nevermind.” He panted. “Nevermind- eugh.” He gagged again, one hand hovering just below his chin. Saliva gathered in his mouth and Alistair felt another burp weasel its way up his throat. He moaned at the feeling. He clamped his mouth shut, slapping his hand over it for more protection, and prayed. Alistair kneaded his belly, it didn’t do much for the nausea but the cramps in his intestines eased a little. 
A few minutes of sitting still later, Alistair felt confident enough to remove his hand and breathe. He sat up a little straighter and put his hand gently on his belly. He was bloated up to the max, his dress pants digging terribly into his midsection. He pulled apart his blazer and quickly unbuttoned his pants, watching as his belly fell forward and push down the zipper. He rubbed underneath his black dress shirt, soothing the angry marks left there. Alistair put both hands on his middle, simply resting them there to ease it. God, he needed to leave. The only thing that would fix this would be Nikau’s hands and a nice hot water bottle. 
He braced himself and stood back up, the world tilting around him and he heard a ringing in his ears. Alistair used the stall to keep himself upright as he did up his pants and tucked in his shirt. The simple act of tidying himself up caused more gurgles to erupt and a sickening spin cycle began in his belly. “Oof, fuck. Ughh.” He moaned, holding his belly like he was pregnant; one hand on his belly button and the other on the tight skin of his upper belly. He rubbed himself slowly, trying desperately to calm it down enough to leave the stall. 
“Urrp-ouhh. Mmh, I don’t feel good. Ahh.” He breathed. Alistair felt around his pockets for his phone, but luck was not on his side tonight. An image of his phone sitting on a dining hall table flashed into his mind, and he nearly passed out. God fucking dammit. 
Alistair slowly unlatched the stall and made his way out of the bathroom. There was no one in the hallway, and no one in the entrance, but before he stepped inside the dining hall he did a quick breathing exercise. Just in case. As he pulled open the doors, the fresh smell of pastry and pavlova attacked his nose and he almost lost it right then and there. He gagged in his mouth and looked straight down, avoiding eye contact with the waiters and waitresses. 
His table was near the far right wall. He just needed to make it there and leave as quickly as possible. It felt like everyone’s eyes were on him as he stumbled his way through the crowds. Someone stepped back and walked into him, apologising quickly under their breath. Alistair could’ve killed them. He was so overwhelmed, sweaty, sick and felt like the next time he looked up would be his last. 
Thankfully, by some miracle, his table came into view and he beelined it for his phone. But, the miracle didn’t last long, as one of his friends, Cassie, stopped him in his tracks. 
“Alistair! Where were you? You missed all the speeches.” 
He swallowed thickly. “Uh. Bathroom.” He said stupidly. 
Cassie frowned a bit, no doubt noticing his complexion. “Are you alright? You don’t look so good.” Her hands were gripping his arms, making him feel even hotter. 
“Um.” He swallowed again. His stomach was revving up the spin cycle once again, and his lower belly was beginning to cramp. Alistair just shook his head and removed himself from her grasp, sidling past her and grabbing his phone. Cassie followed him, blocking him from the other guests' views. 
“Do you need help? You look like you might pass out.” 
“I’m about to. I feel like garbage.” Another gag grew in his throat and he cupped his mouth, one hand still scrolling through his contacts. 
Cassie grabbed a glass. “Do you want some water?” She shoved it in his face and he never thought water could make him feel so ill but the way it sloshed and settled just made him think of his insides, and another gag hit him. Cassie put it back down quickly. “Okay, no water. How about Nikau? I can call him for you?” 
Alistair’s hands were shaking as she pulled his phone gently out of his hand. He curled forward and wrapped his free hand around his middle. The smells and temperature of this building was just making him feel like hot shit, he wished he had never left the cool sanctuary of the bathroom. 
His stomach grumbled at him, bloated and upset and so close to being sick Alistair was scared he’d soon have puke on his lap. Cassie was talking beside him but he couldn’t understand what she was saying. There was too much going on and his head felt like it was gonna explode. 
“Cassie, I need a bin.” 
Cassie turned to look at him, phone at her ear. “What?” 
“A-urrp- a bin. I’m gonna throw up.” He said thickly. Alistair felt his jaw grow heavy and saliva pooled under his tongue. He gagged harshly into his hand and hoped Cassie had heard what he had said. Suddenly, a bin appeared in his lap and he let the floodgates open. He gagged loudly, curling his around the lip of the bin to cover his face. Vomit splattered into the bottom, crinkling up the rubbish bag and covering the napkins and plastic cups inside it. He was glad there was no food in this one. 
His back curled forward as he gagged again, chunky vomit coating his throat and the bin. He burped wetly, rubbing his belly as another gag rocketed up his throat and more vomit fell into the bin. He hoped no one was taking notice, the situation couldn’t get any worse. He had little time to think as another gag attacked him, the nausea sky rocketing to a solid 16 out of 10. Alistair moaned into the bin, coughing and spitting. 
Cassie’s hand was on his back. He appreciated that as he could barely feel himself sitting in his own chair. Her hand was keeping him grounded as his head floated away into the sky. Alistair rested his burning forehead on his wrist, methodically spitting into the bin. He tried to soothe his tummy but he was so bloated it was painful to even let his fingers gently graze the skin. He squeezed his eyes shut, breathing heavily. 
“Hey, are you alright now?” Cassie said, her quiet voice beside his ear. Alistair was glad she was the one who found him. 
He nodded. He wasn’t done-done, but for now he felt like he could at least stand up. “Okay, because Nikau is on his way. I think some fresh air will do you some good.” She rubbed her hand up the length of his back, keeping him steady. 
“Yep. Okay, help me up.” Alistair’s face was beet red, a mix of exhaustion and embarrassment. He just needed a bed and his boyfriends arms. His stomach was aching at this point, the violent vomiting and the tight swollen skin made it feel like he couldn’t bend over even if he tried. 
“How are you?’ Cassie asked. 
“Terrible. My stomach really hurts.” He couldn’t keep the whine out of his voice. “And I feel like I’m walking on nothing. It feels really weird.” 
Cassie held him tighter at that. “Mm, you’re probably dehydrated. I get that.” 
The air outside was refreshing. It blew the sticky hair off his face and filled his lungs. Alistair found himself guided to the nearest bench and sitting down was a relief. 
“Is it a stomach bug?” Cassie asked. She was looking out at the road for any sign of Nikau. 
Alistair shrugged, rubbing his tummy. “Not sure. Probably, considering my whole body feels like it's on fire.” Cassie gently put her hand on Alistair’s forehead. 
“Yeah, no wonder you feel so terrible.” 
It went quiet. Alistair just curled up into himself, gently rubbing his belly as it settled down. He was glad the vomiting helped, if only he didn’t have to do it in public. His lamenting was cut short as a car approached the curb, and a very stressed Nikau hopped out of the drivers side. 
“Star, oh my god! Are you alright?” A flash of movement and Nikau was in front of him, holding his face with his hands, checking over him like a worried mother. “Cas, hey, is he okay?” 
Cassie giggled. “Yes, I think so. He puked inside, but he’s definitely not 100%” She stood up, brushing down her dress. “I better get back inside, actually. I hope you feel better, Alistair.” 
Before she left, Alistair mustered up the strength to look at her. “Thank you, Cassie. You saved me in there.” 
She looked a little sheepish. “Oh, it was nothing. Just, rest up.” 
She left and Nikau brought his hands to Alistairs. “You’re burning. Let’s get you home, sweetheart.” 
“Please.” Alistair was pulled up by Nikau and gently put into the passenger seat. He rested his head on the window, still holding his middle. 
Nikau got in the car and looked right at him. “How are you? You really don’t look good, Star.” He cupped his face, thumb gently rubbing under his eye. 
Alistair leant into his hand. He could fall asleep just like this. “I feel awful. I’m overwhelmed and I feel like my head isn’t connected to my body. And my belly hurts really badly.” He moaned that last bit. He scooted down in the seat more, feeling sorry for himself. 
“Aw, Star. Don’t worry, I’ll get you feeling better in no time my love.” 
---
terrible at endings
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3v3rl4stingbr4in · 2 months
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Explodes them with my MIND‼️‼️
An art trade for @hollana with Kuras and her MC!
I had fun working on this piece and I am really starting to understand why one of Kuras's sprite is turning his back at us LMAO.
Upclose version under the cut.
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junebuggeryy · 10 months
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artfight 2023 header
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artfight 2023 footer
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wrylu · 1 month
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little guys ship stuff
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irlmumrik · 4 months
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girls will be girls (stupiidddd)
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nikosasaki · 2 months
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⸻ Cassie and Luke: tell me every terrible thing you ever did, and let me love you anyway.
billy-ray belcourt // euripides (trans. anne carson) // rose alouette nightingale // japanese breakfast // mitski // rick riordan // ingmar bergman // leah horlick // clementine von radics
taglist: @kendelias @chlobenet @bravelittleflower @eddiemunscns  @purpleyearning @eddysocs @heavenlysurf @arrthurpendragon @villanele @nolanhollogay @stanshollaand @lovehermioneforever @raith-way @kiara-carrera @decennia @luucypevensie @waterloou @ginger-grimm @hiddenqveendom @foxesandmagic @jvstjewels @dragonsbone  @endless-oc-creations @ginevrastilinski @sunlitscribe @dyhlanobrien @partiallypearl @witchofinterest @fleetwoodmcs @daughter-of-melpomene
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corneliathegreat · 5 months
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Stomach's n life presents: ☕ Hungry on the clock!
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• ○JN●
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• GrrrOOOalll~!
• Jen sighed. Her stomach is still growling. And it was all Cooper's fault. He was pulling on her hair all night, making her wake up late and rush out. She loved her dog to death, but sometimes he can make her so mad.
• GrrrRRRggg...!
• Man, she hates being hungry. (She hates anything that has to with the organ) You feel weird. You get cranky. And your insides makes weird noises. Jen sighed. She could order out, but the thought of something oily for breakfast made her stomach turn.
• Not a pastry either, that would drain her before the day even got started. Maybe, she could head home and make something real quick. French toast would really hit the spot...
• URRRGGG~!
• Shocked, the CEO hugged her middle. It still rumbled, but thankfully, lower this time. She sighed. As much as she did wanna head home, she couldn't. She had a meeting in 20.
• "Dammit..."
• She muttered. Darn her squishy faced pug, making her miss breakfast. It's completely throwing her off. There's always lunch, but... that's a 12. It's 9 now. She has secret stashes of candy, but that would make a terrible breakfast.
• "Ms. Coleman."
• She jumped and turned around. It was just Damian. (Her future successor)
• "Ah, Damian,"
• Jen straightened her self up.
• "I thought I told you to knock."
• He shrugged.
• "Must of forgotten."
• She snickered. Cheeky brat.
• "Anyway, brought some forms you need to sign."
• Of course. A manager can never stay still. As her protege fumbled to get the papers, she was reminded of the emptiness inside her. Her stomach rumbled lowly, bringing back up the subject of breakfast.
• Grrrrr...
• Jen mentally shushed it. It would be SO embarrassing if Damian heard her stomach talking. He'd ask if she was eating enough. Just like her mom! She cleared her throat.
• "Dami-"
• "Did you know Mr. Seal finally got help for his indigestion?"
• Wait? Seal had indigestion? Is that why he used a bunch of his vacation days? He doesn't hate her!? ...Not that she cares or anything.
• "That's interesting."
• She mumbled. Damien beamed.
• "And he treated me to steak yesterday!"
• Annnd the conversation conveniently went to food. Crap.
• "You should been there of been there!"
• "The meat was sooo tender and juicy! And the sides-"
• And, like the foodie he is, he's giving her the run down of his meal yesterday. Of course. Normally, she loves to hear his food rambles, it's help her get work done. But now, it's just angering her stomach. Grumbles riled up inside her, making her worry the sound might escape. If she could just get rid of the boy.
• "And the mac and cheese was absolutely beautiful."
• "It was all cheesy and gooey,"
• Her stomach clenched, grumbling at the thought.
• Rrrrgglll...!
• She shot up from her seat and cleared her throat loudly.
• "Damien,"
• "Can you grab Adam for me?"
• He blinked.
• "Uh, okay."
• He turned on his heels and walked out. The CEO sighed. That was close. Darn her protege and his delicious descriptions of food. Once again, her belly squirmed against her pencil skirt.
• Grrrrglll...rrrrlll~!
• She sighed deeply, as growls filled the room. The moment the meeting is finished, she's getting a croissant sandwich from the gas station. Her stomach's gonna start cramping soon. (And get bubbly)
• GrrRRRrrr~!
• Hopefully, she'll be able to make it through the meeting.
• "So I'm guessing you're crabby cause you're hungry?"
• Adam said, as he walked beside his boss. Jen nodded with a grunt. He chuckled.
• "I told you,"
• "You should just let me dog sit Cooper."
• She scoffs. No way, he wouldn't give him back.
• "Just at night?"
• "No."
• As much as she doesn't wanna admit it, she's super paranoid when it comes to her pug is around other people. They're so many dog snatchers in the world. Who's to say Adam isn't secretly one.
• "Alright, fine. But I have some tips on making your dogs tired."
• She nodded and he opened the door for her. Time for the meeting.
• Rrrrummmblll~!
• Subtlety, she rubbed her stomach. This meeting was going BAD. The moment she walked in, she was hit with the sweet smell of brownies and donuts. Apparently, Bethany made this meeting a mini potluck and everybody brought a baked good. She would've grabbed something, but she didn't want her employees to see her eat....What? It's a rational insecurity.
• Anywho, she settled on a coffee. Little did she know it would make the situation a thousand times worse.
• GrrRRRrrrlll~! Grrrgg...
• It didn't just not quench her hunger. It made her stomach churn and gurgle. Making it known that she digesting the caffeinated beverage. Luckily, Otis (52 year old sales manager) talks pretty loud, so she's in the clear. ...For now.
• "Ms. Coleman."
• She jumped and looked over. It was Bethany.
• "Are you okay?"
• "You look kinda angry."
• Jen cleared her throat.
• "I'm fine, thanks for asking."
• That's one thing people always tell her. 'You look kinda angry' She usually isn't. She just frowns when she's focusing. And right now, she's focusing keeping her darn stomach quiet!
• "Alrighty, Colette. Your turn."
• Otis barked. Jen silently panicked as the pink haired employee walked to the front. You can still hear her, but her voice is still pretty soft.
• Her insides grumbled quietly, reminding her coffee wasn't enough. She can handle it though. It's only 20 minutes left. She'd just has to finally focus on the presentation. Suddenly, she was accosted by the chocolatey aroma of a brownie.
• The CEO twitched and looked around. It was Otis! Dang it, she forgot he likes to heat up chocolate stuff. And he has a stack of 'em... A prolonged growl shook inside her belly, threatening to come out. Her eyes flicked to the clock. 16 minutes left. She can handle it!
• 5 minutes later...
• Jen's guts were rebelling hard. Grumbling ever couple seconds, cramping at different times, and trying to add nausea. Like, what the hell! It's like it's going crazy because it's so little time left. She only had 11 minutes left.
• Suddenly, her stomach churned. The coffee move as well. A bubbly, growl squeezed out.
• GrrrRRR~!
• Her blood ran cold. She could feel it. A big one was coming! She checked her watch. 7 minutes. Come on, Colette! Her insides are gonna blow soon!
• "And finally, I'd like to thank Ms. Coleman,"
• The blonde said, sweetly.
• "For hearing us out and letting use this meeting room."
• Jen's stomach squelched, getting ready to interject.
• Urrrgg...
• She forced a smile. 5 minutes.
• "Does anyone have any have closing statements,"
• PLEASE, no one have any closing statements!
• Rrrrwlll...!
• Almost there!
• "Ms. Coleman?"
• She froze. All eyes were on her. She didn't know what to say. She was so busy with her with her empty bread basket, that she didn't pay attention. She cleared her throat.
• "Um,"
• Her stomach bubbled furiously under the skin. Crap, what was she gonna do?!
• Suddenly, the smoke alarm sounded. Nearly making everyone's ears bleed. The door opened.
• "Everyone clear out!"
• It was Seal! Wait...was there actually any fire? Everyone raced outta the room, including Jen. After it shut off, (cause it was "false" alarm) she felt exhausted. She's tired. She almost had a panic attack. And her ears hurt. A painful grumble emitted from her stomach.
• Grrrglll...!
• "Hungry?"
• She jumped and turned. Oh great, it's her handsome assistant. Seal. She wrapped her arms around her belly.
• "Don't worry, I didn't actually hear anything."
• "Adam told me"
• She covered her face, now feeling super embarrassed.
• ''And before you freak out, he just noticed your mannerism changed."
• "Oh."
• Silence settled in between the two. Ah! She has to say something before her stomach does. She cleared her throat.
• "So what do need, Montgomery?"
• (That's Seal's last name)
• He snickered.
• "To take you out."
• Jen blushed. She must've looked pissed because he changed his tune.
• "Just because you're hungry"
• "It's not a date or anything."
• She cursed in her head. Dang it, why didn't she just say yes? She wouldn't mind if it was a date
• "Okay then."
• She replied, trying to sound nonchalant. Seal smiled and took her hand.
• "I know the perfect steakhouse we can go to."
• Out of nowhere, her stomach snarled loudly.
• GRRRRRRRGGGG~!
• Glllll...!
• Jen quickly hugged her growling midsection.
• "Woah, girl,"
• Seal joked.
• "We're gonna eat soon."
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I was originally supposed to post this before the Fall stress outs, but it's here and waiting! This one was fun and I'm glad I added a few other characters. (And Seal.) Hopefully they'll show up again.
(And I don't own these dividers.)
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whumpuss · 4 months
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rigahmortis · 8 days
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i never posted my girl Apple here omg she's a vampire and she loves animals like little birds and dogs and also her best friend is Trixxie and they like to go shopping together :3
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boysbellyrubs · 1 year
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Under a Sick Stomach
here’s that fic i talked about with being stuck under someone with a sick tummy 😋. i had heaps of fun writing this one.
cw for semi explicit content, making someone puke (sticking their fingers down their throat), discussion of kink
also maybe time skip of like five years, so they’re 24 ish cause why not lol.
—-
Caine and Quinn often fell asleep on top of each other, and it had never posed any issue so far. Caine had stayed awake playing with Quinn’s hair. It had gotten a little longer than normal and he was begging Quinn to never cut it. Long hair was just superior, Caine didn’t make the rules. Quinn had drifted to sleep in the past thirty minutes or so, snoring lightly on Caine’s chest. His hands were resting on either side of Caine’s body. If anyone were to come in they would probably assume Quinn fell on to Caine and didn’t want to get back up.
Caine was content to stay awake though, he quite enjoyed letting Quinn sleep. It sounded creepy but watching him sleep made his heart full. Everything that had been troubling him suddenly disappears and his face morphs into innocence. Caine can’t resist giving him kisses he won’t feel, touching and rubbing every solid area of Quinn’s body. It’s almost like he experiences cuteness aggression with his boyfriend, screaming into his hands when he catches him snoozing anywhere.
He didn’t mind being crushed under Quinn either. The warmth and heaviness drained his stress and created a barrier between him and the rest of the world. It was comforting.
Quinn was slowly easing into deeper sleep but every now and then his body twitched and brought him back. Caine shushed him each time, one hand still fiddling with his hair and the other running softly down the length of Quinn’s back. His gentle touches weren’t enough though to stop the tiny movements. Quinn was also letting out these tiny sighs and grunts that interrupted his breathing. When this happened, Caine’s eyes kept darting down to look at Quinn’s, making sure that he was still resting.
The next anomaly was Quinn’s stomach. With the way they were lying, Caine’s own stomach was almost directly under Quinn’s and he could feel each time he inhaled and exhaled. Along with his breathing, there were little gurgles happening inside Quinn’s belly. He originally had thought the boy was getting hungry, but they didn’t seem like empty growls. These ones were thick and pushed through his stomach like molasses, coating Quinn’s tummy in sick sounds.
Caine, with all his soul, was freaking out about this. It didn’t sound or feel very pleasant, but Caine was having trouble containing himself. Quinn’s noisy belly let out another sick gurgle, one that travelled from his actual stomach to lower down his belly. Quinn moaned sleepily and moved his head, smushing up Caine’s shirt. Caine’s hands no longer had the strength to play with Quinn’s hair, instead he was clamping his mouth shut with both of them. His boyfriend was clearly in pain, but there was something so incredibly erotic about being able to feel each gurgle and hear each moan so close to his ear.
Another growl and this time Quinn’s legs curled up. He moaned again and Caine felt himself flush red. He gritted his teeth and put his hands back on Quinn, down by his tailbone. He tapped and glided his fingers along the area, feeling a little guilty he was doing almost nothing to soothe Quinn. It was just too good. His brain thought of all the possible reasons as to why Quinn’s stomach was bothering him. While he was daydreaming, Quinn’s belly had grown more upset and it wasn’t letting up with the noises. Each growl and gurgle pierced Caine’s ears and made the boy on top of him squirm.
The more he squirmed, the worse he made his belly. Each time he moved, Caine could swear he felt the contents slosh and groan, churning up whatever was inside to mush. As Caine felt more grumbles, Quinn whimpered and his limp hands suddenly curled underneath Caine’s back. He jolted at the touch a little, but Caine let it happen. Quinn was probably going to wake up soon so he wanted to savour this. Caine felt Quinn’s belly contort and a loud grumble echoed out, making Quinn moan and squeeze his hands tighter around him.
Fuck, Caine thought to himself. There was another crucial part to this dilemma too. Not only was Quinn’s belly turning his brain to goo, everytime Quinn squirmed he was doing so right on his dick. As soon as he woke up, Caine would have to push him right off if he wanted to keep his dignity. It was almost unfair.
Quinn’s hands squeezed, his belly jumped and a sick sounding burp fell out of his mouth. Caine had to stifle a groan. He was actually about to explode. He looked down at Quinn and found that his brow was contorted and his mouth was open like he was panting. As he watched, Quinn let out another involuntary burp and he groaned out a miserable noise. He didn’t know how much longer to let this go on; he debated whether to wake him up or enjoy this for a little longer. It was probably quite cruel to let Quinn stay in pain, but…for a few more minutes.
So, for the next few minutes Quinn kept moaning and groaning, squirming on top of him and occasionally burping and hiccuping. A particularly sick gurgle broke through the overall noise and Quinn’s head jumped upwards, and it seemed he was finally awake. Caine immediately went into caretaker mode.
He groaned, “Caine.” His voice was gravelly. Quinn tried to roll over but he curled inwards, instead sliding down off of Caine until he was kneeling in between his legs. He moaned, one of his hands came up to cup under his chin as a bit of spit escaped. Caine could only watch. Quinn’s eyes were half shut, his cheeks were flushed and his hair was mussed from his sleep. His ‘fucked out’ look was made ever better with him on the verge of gagging and his hand digging into his belly.
Caine wanted to capture this moment in his brain forever. He sat up and grabbed Quinn’s shoulders.
“Hey, hey, love, look at me.” Quinn’s frantic eyes locked on to his, watery and red. Caine’s hand pushed up Quinn’s hair, touching his forehead at the same time. He had quite a fever. “It’s okay, calm down.”
Quinn shook his head, “No, no, I-I’m…I don’t feel good. Sick.”
“I know.” Caine leant up to kiss Quinn’s forehead. As he did so, Quinn’s throat made a strange noise, and he was suddenly much closer than before. He burped and a splashing sound alerted Caine to the fact that his boyfriend was now being sick. He rubbed Quinn’s back as he coughed, another strangled sound came out of his mouth and more vomit puddled in between the two boys. Quinn moaned as he panted, leaning more and more on Caine’s chest. He burped again but nothing happened, so he lifted his head and looked at the mess he’d made.
“Oh, Caine, I'm so sorry. My belly…”
Caine couldn’t be mad at him. Honestly, he was more grossed out with himself for being so turned on from this. His lap was dripping with puke and his boyfriend was still moaning and spitting saliva that dribbled from his lips. When Quinn finally looked at him, the vomit stuck to the corner of his mouth and the tears trailing down his cheeks was enough to make Caine’s eyes widen and his cheeks burn. It was criminal how good Quinn looked right now.
While he stared, Quinn’s stomach gurgled again and he heaved, bringing up a small amount of bile that fell down his chin. He dropped his head and another burp forced up another mouthful, making him cough and splutter. Quinn’s hands were pushing in on his belly, and by the looks of it, it was a little bloated from being upset. Caine didn’t think this could get any better.
He was wrong. When Quinn pushed in on his tummy, he groaned and gagged yet nothing came up. So, the next logical thing was for him to look up and meet Caine’s eyes and whine out a sentence Caine had been pretty much dreaming of.
“Can you help me? I still need to puke, my belly won’t let me.” He moaned out each word, pain and nausea lacing the syllables. Caine was dumbstruck.
He pointed to the bed, “R-Right here? We should probably move to the bathroom.”
Quinn wasn’t having it. He whined as moved a little closer to Caine and grabbed one of his hands. The boys touch was shaky and warm, hands sweaty with exertion. He brought it up to his mouth and let’s Caine’s fingers touch his chin.
“Please. My poor tummy needs to be emptied.”
There was a moment where Caine thought he was dreaming. This was single-handedly the hottest and weirdest thing that had ever happened to him. Quinn was acting so strange, but if he needed help, Caine wasn’t going to deny him. He crawled around to be beside Quinn instead as Quinn’s hand dropped from his own, now cradling his stomach again. Caine kissed Quinn’s shoulder as he inserted his fingers, feeling spit and residues of puke on them.
He got closer to the back of Quinn’s mouth and felt a hiccup and then the vibrations of a moan, Quinn’s mouth dropping open a little more to let him have access. Caine’s heart was pounding. His free hand went around Quinn’s waist, his fingers rubbing a little. He could feel how bloated Quinn’s stomach was from this angle too, pushed out far against his ribs like he’d eaten a big meal. Quinn’s belly rippled as he hiccuped again, but still no puke.
Caine was taking too long, he felt Quinn’s hand come up to push his hand in further and he almost choked on it. Caine pushed him away.
“Hey, hey, I’ve got it. Don’t worry babe. Relax.”
Quinn whined, “Please hurry. My belly is killing me.”
“I will.” He kissed Quinn’s shoulder again. His fingers pushed inside again and he felt some more saliva trickle out of Quinn’s mouth. The nausea was ramping up it seemed. Quinn’s belly gurgled loudly and his hands gripped it, one on either side and showing off his swollen gut. He leaned back onto Caine, now rubbing his belly from side to side as it grumbled at him to get a move on. Quinn tossed his head on to Caine’s shoulder and moaned. Caine’s fingers eventually reached the back of his throat again, but he was too focused on the way Quinn’s belly was almost being presented to him. He wished Quinn’s shirt was off so he could see how stretched his skin was. Maybe his lower belly would still be soft, the sickness not reaching there yet. It gurgled again and Caine bit back a moan of pleasure.
Back to the task at hand, he guided Quinn to sit back up again and his other hand curled further around to rest on the bloat of his belly. As he did so, he jammed his fingers into Quinn’s throat and the boy jerked forward. His throat spasmed on his fingers, more and more saliva dribbling out. Caine tried again, and this time Quinn coughed up a small amount of bile. He moaned and rubbed his belly.
Caine leant forward, “How about as I push on your throat, you push on your belly. Try to get as much up as possible, yeah?”
Quinn’s eyes met Caine’s and he could tell the boy was sceptical. “It’ll be okay, baby. I know your tummy hurts but it’ll only be for a second, and then you’ll feel so much better.” Caine whispered, kissing Quinn’s temple.
The other boy whimpered but he felt him nod. Caine smiled and moved so he could be directly behind Quinn, one hand in his mouth and the other resting on his stomach. He rubbed a soothing motion into his shirt.
“Ready baby?”
Quinn nodded.
“Okay, push hard. 3,2,1”
The strategy worked. Quinn let out a retch that brought up the last bits of puke. Vomit coated Caine’s arm as he pulled it out of his boyfriends mouth. He let it hover over Quinn’s legs as the boy continued to puke, burping and moaning as it tapered off. The noises and the way Quinn looked was too much for him. Caine’s eyes squeezed shut as he came, that final heave going straight to his already painfully erect cock and sending him over the edge. Both boys panted, Caine’s head resting on Quinn’s broad back as Quinn spat out the bitterness of his puke.
Caine’s clean hand rubbed along Quinn’s belly again, needing to feel the final churns and jumps as Quinn burped. Fuck, he was so screwed.
They both were quiet for a few minutes. Quinn was coming down from the intense nausea, and Caine was coming down from…well, you know. But, Quinn broke the silence first as he leaned back into Caine.
“Thank you. Can we please go get cleaned up now?”
Caine raised his head, “Yeah, yeah, for sure. Come on, i’ll help you.”
Caine got off the bed first and helped Quinn move. He was careful not to let Quinn’s legs get even more covered in vomit. He got Quinn into the bathroom and turned the water on. He let Quinn undress as he went to get the sheets off the bed, he was a little worried about them staining the mattress. When he got back to the bathroom, Quinn was only in his underwear and was sitting on the toilet seat.
He looked up, “I got a little dizzy. And my stomach started hurting again.”
Caine couldn’t help but chuckle. He went over to the boy and cupped his jaw, pressing a kiss to his forehead, “That’s okay, the warm water will help.”
Quinn opted to lean a lot on Caine. Caine didn’t mind, his hands were on Quinn’s belly and helping him get clean and feel better. The shower was uneventful in terms of vomiting, but Caine was glad. Quinn was completely silent during it and had his eyes closed. Clearly this was taking it out of him.
It was only after they were dressed and on the couch that Quinn spoke.
“Caine…what was that?”
Caine stiffened. Quinn was resting on his chest now, breathing slowly with his eyes closed. He had a feeling he knew what he was talking about but didn’t really want to admit it.
“What?” He said dumbly.
Quinn raised his head off his chest, now making eye contact. His expression was exhausted.
“Before, when I was sick. Did you think I wouldn’t notice?” The face he was pulling wasn’t one of disgust or judgement. Caine stared right back at his boyfriend. He felt his cheeks heat up and his lip was slowly being chewed down to nothing.
Quinn laughed and one of his hands came up to touch one of Caine’s red cheeks. He leaned forward and kissed his nose, “You look frozen, baby. It’s okay.”
Was he dreaming? He had been so good at hiding it for so long, but this one incident made it all come out. He smiled awkwardly.
“I’m so sorry, Quinn. I’m not some creep who gets off to you being sick. I do care about you. I’ll be there if you’re sick.” He rambled, only shutting up when Quinn’s hand covered his mouth.
“I’m not disgusted by you. It’s something new, yeah, but I love you. I’m not going to hate you or call you gross for something you can’t control.” He leaned back down into Caine, “Do you think I haven’t noticed before? You’re always touching my stomach when you get the chance and you almost ask me to rub my stomach when I’m sick.”
Caine felt his body relax a little. He let his hands touch Quinn again but nowhere near his belly.
“I thought I was hiding it pretty well.”
Quinn laughed, “I can see right through you, my love. But, at least you don’t have to hide it anymore. I was pretty sick before but I said some of those things just to get a reaction out of you. I guess it worked.”
Caine was still confused. How he managed to find a person so understanding was a little perplexing. But, as he sank back into the couch, Quinn laid down fully and stretched out onto his back. His stomach was covered by a shirt once again, but the sickness brewing underneath kept it swelled out to reveal his lower belly. Caine hesitated.
“Go on. It makes me feel better.” Quinn said with a soft voice. He touched Caine’s face again to make him look at him, “Behind all of this sexual tension, I still am very sick. Please, Caine, I don’t feel well.”
Caine’s eyes shut on their own and he breathed out deeply. Everything Quinn said was just making his head spin. He chanced a look and Quinn had his eyes shut, a grimace tugging at his features. His hands were resting on the upper part of his belly and Caine was desperate to replace them with his own.
So, he did. He gently pulled Quinn’s away and touched his stomach. The boy underneath him sighed, tucking his head inwards towards Caine’s stomach. Caine smiled and his other hand went to hold the back of the boys head, playing with the dark hair.
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pukeyweb · 11 months
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owie..
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angstyaches · 7 months
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Autumn's First Sickfic Part Two
Alrighty, this is a little all-over-the-place, but it's done! It was so fun to write Payton as caretaker for a change.
Read Part One Here
CW: emeto, fever, confusion, sickness, insecurity, familial issues, jealousy, awkwardness, undressing (maybe vaguely n**w?), stomach noises, belly rubs, brief indirect mention of Lucy's emetophobia.
Word Count: 5,000+
___
Payton slipped their phone halfway from the pocket of their apron, pursing their lips when they saw it was a call from Autumn. It wrung their heart slightly to let it ring out, but they had to let their phone drop away again so that they could serve the two customers waiting in line. 
When their phone began buzzing a second time, though, they started to feel an itch of worry in their gut. 
“Paul,” they said, snagging the attention of their coworker who had previously been wiping down tables. “Could you be on the till for a few minutes?” 
“Absolutely, boss.” 
Payton threw Jake – who was on drinks – an apologetic smile. “Bathroom break,” they said quietly, waiting to get the nod from him, before ducking out the back of the shop and into the staff changing room.  
“Hello, baby, are you okay?” they said softly as they answered, in case Autumn was still half-asleep and calling them. 
“Payton, hey. This is Leigh. Autumn’s friend.” 
Payton’s stomach dropped. What? 
“So, Autumn’s really sick, and she keeps asking for you. Is there any way you could come by the student centre and pick her up?” 
“What do you mean? Autumn stayed home today,” Payton said, even though it was evident by the fact that her college friend was calling from her phone that she very much hadn’t stayed home today. 
Leigh hummed. “Nope. She’s in the bathroom next to the student theatre. Throwing up, crying –” 
“Crying?” Payton found that they were clutching the front of their apron, nails sinking into the fabric. 
“Yeah.” Leigh sounded as surprised as Payton felt. Anyone who knew Autumn knew that she rarely cried. “I think she’s got a fever or something. So, can you come and get her?” 
“I-I’m at work,” Payton breathed, feeling on the verge of tears themself. “Can you… Could you call her mother? Maybe she can –” 
“I, uh –” It sounded as though Leigh had puffed out her cheeks and exhaled roughly. “I’ve suggested that, and it made her even more upset, and that’s why I’m calling you. Can you get here?” 
Payton stepped frantically to the other side of the dressing room, turned around, made their way back to where they’d started. Their lungs felt shrivelled and achy in their chest. 
Couldn’t leave work without letting the shop down. 
Couldn’t help Autumn without leaving work. 
Couldn’t leave work without – 
“Everything okay?” 
Payton swung around, almost dropping their phone in when they realised Jake was standing behind them.  
Their knees felt like jelly at being caught on the phone by a workplace superior – it barely even occurred to them then that they were practically on the same tier as Jake nowadays, in everything but job title and wage, and that they really shouldn’t have felt quite so much like a child sneaking sweets before dinner. 
“S-sorry. Sorry, Jake, um… Autumn’s pretty sick at college, sh-she’s feverish and throwing up and she’s asking for me…” 
“Go, then.” 
“What?” they breathed. 
Jake shrugged. “I’ll stay and close. You can close for me on Friday instead.” 
Go, you idiot, Payton tried to tell themself, take the opportunity, accept the kindness. But their brain seemed intent on fighting them at every possible turn.  
“Annie would kill me,” they choked out. 
“For delegating a task that you were no longer able to fill yourself?” Jake gave another shrug. “Sounds like good management to me.” 
“But… you booked this evening off.” 
Jake’s shoulders went up towards his ears again, this time pulling a little tighter to his neck. “To sit at home by myself and watch the season premier of a TV show. It’ll still be there for me to watch, whether I make it home by seven or by midnight.” 
“But –” 
“Payton,” Jake half-laughed. “Stop arguing, and go get your girl.” 
Payton nodded, then realised with a start that they had lowered their phone all the way to their waist. They pressed it to their ear whilst also pulling open their locker to liberate their hoodie. “Leigh? Are you still there?” 
“I am.” 
Payton started tugging their apron off over their head. “I’ll be there in twenty-six minutes.” 
“That’s weirdly specific,” Leigh said, “but okay.” 
___ 
Autumn wasn’t sure how long she spent by the toilet before she was guided away. She didn’t even remember who had brought her here, to the plush, lime green sofas that were dotted around the common area of the student centre, whether it was Dixon or Leigh or both. When she rose from the feverish haze in order to wrinkle up her nose at the stench of bad coffee from the open-plan café and the sporadic noise of groups of students going about their day, she realised that she had her head on Dixon’s shoulder.  
Her first thought was that she’d better not have drooled on his t-shirt; he’d had enough of her bodily fluids ruining his belongings for one day. The thought alone made her breath hitch, and she pulled away from him, covering her face with her hands to disguise a sob or a retch or both. 
“Oh – you okay?” 
There was the sound of a plastic bag being unfolded, and Autumn opened her eyes to see said plastic bag being held out under her face. 
“I-I’m okay for now,” she stammered, but she reached out and took the plastic bag from Leigh’s hands anyway. She gingerly tucked it right-side-up between her knees for quick access.  
“How long have you had that bag ready?” Dixon asked. 
Leigh laughed. “Since before we left the bathroom.” 
“You’re brilliant. I mean, that was a... brilliant idea.” 
A brief flash of self-consciousness made Autumn very aware of the fact that Dixon and Leigh were sitting at either side of her, and being stuck between the pair of them felt profoundly uncomfortable. She rubbed at her forehead, still in complete disbelief that she was this sick, this publicly. She considered these people to be her friends, sure, but they didn’t need to see her like this. They certainly didn’t need her eating into their time. 
“Oh, look,” Dixon whispered, nudging her gently. “Look who it is.” 
Autumn gave a dazed groan as she lifted her head. 
“Huh,” Leigh said. “Twenty-six minutes.” 
For a second, surprise chased out the headiness of Autumn’s fever. She almost tried to stand up to give Payton a hug in greeting. Instead, she floundered weakly in her seat, jaw falling slack, scalding eyes following their steps until they arrived right in front of her. They were in a black polo shirt and cargo pants, their hair still clipped back from their face like it always was during their shifts. A light sheen of sweat made their forehead glitter in the gaudy, excessive lighting, but Autumn reckoned they still looked a damn sight more attractive than she did. 
“Hey, baby,” they smiled, crouching down in front of her. “You’re supposed to be at home, in bed.” 
She almost literally dropped her jaw. Her mind felt like a swamp, where her thoughts couldn’t get through fast enough. “You’re... at work.” 
“Well, no, I’m not, I’m here. I was able to get Jake to cover for me.” Payton’s big, shiny eyes blinked and their creased brows pulled even closer together, as if something unsettling were unfolding before them. They grabbed hold of her leg. “What, baby, what is it?” 
Autumn lifted a wrist to her cheek, and it came away wet. Jeez, when had she started crying again? She could feel her face crumple, her lips pulling back in a grimace. “I – you’re just – you’re too good, P. Too good to me...” 
“Here, man, sit,” Dixon said softly, getting up from where he’d been sitting and gesturing for Payton to replace him. “I’m Dixon, by the way.” 
“Leigh,” Leigh added. 
Autumn sank into Payton’s torso as they sat, desperate for their warm, familiar smell. The buttons running down their chest weren’t the comfiest to snuggle into, but it was still them that she was embracing. It just seemed like a miracle that they were here at all. 
“Thank you,” they were saying to Autumn’s classmates, “for keeping an eye on her, and for calling me.” 
“Yeah, no problem. Autumn is... an absolute angel,” Leigh was saying. “Least we can do.” 
“You take care of her, alright?” Dixon’s voice was a little unsure of itself, but it sounded vaguely protective. Autumn had a feeling Leigh would tease him about it later. 
“I’ve got this.” Payton’s voice vibrated in their chest against Autumn’s cheek. “Thank – thank you.” 
Autumn opened her eyes as the couch squeaked, the cushions shifting with the absence of Leigh’s weight. Both she and Dixon eyed her warily as they started walking away, and Autumn offered a weak, grateful smile.  
As soon as they both disappeared around the corner, heading towards the library, Autumn felt Payton slide a hand up under her bangs. An anxious sound hummed in their chest. 
“You’re burning up, baby." 
“Sorry,” Autumn rasped. “I’m s-sorry.” 
“Sorry?” Payton leaned forward a little, touching their forehead to the top of her head the best they could. They massaged their fingers into the nape of her neck. “You’ve got nothing to be sorry about, baby. Nothing at all. Let’s just get you home, okay?” 
“Home?”  
Payton let out a nervous laugh. “Well, yeah. What did you think was going to happen?” 
“I-I was going to go to the library once I caught my breath,” Autumn said, easing herself up from Payton’s chest. Colour and sound washed in and out of her senses, but above it all was an overarching sense of dread. “And... and I have work from seven until midnight.” 
Payton licked their lips. They looked so... lost. “Baby,” they pleaded, “you’re so sick. You can’t get on a bike like this. Look at you, you’re burning up and you’re trembling...” They curled their lower lip in sympathy, giving her arms a useless rub. “Just like a little leaf.” 
Autumn let out an involuntary whimper. 
“You poor thing.” Payton sounded close to tears. “I really wish you’d stayed home and taken it easy today.” 
“Couldn’t,” Autumn whispered, overwhelmed by the frustration bubbling in her unwell stomach. She gave the plastic bag in her hand a squeeze, reassuring herself that she still had a grip on it between her knees. 
“Hmm?” 
“Couldn’t stay home.” 
Payton placed their hands on the outsides of her arms again, head tilted to one side. “Why not, baby?” 
“Why do you think?”  
___ 
Payton pulled their hands back, almost recoiling right off the sofa. Coming from the girl who said sarcasm was the lowest form of wit, and believed spite gave you wrinkles, a rhetorical question spat with just a hint of venom was as bad – as shocking – as hearing her insult Payton’s entire family. 
And the worst part was that it sounded like she expected them to know the reason, and they hadn’t the faintest idea what that could be. Was this their failure? Their heart was sinking as though it was.  
They opened their mouth, tried for a what do you mean? but nothing came out.  
But then Autumn opened her mouth, and something came out. 
Before the spike of panic could prompt Payton to do anything useful, she had produced a plastic shopping bag from... somewhere. She yanked open the top of the bag and leaned so far over it that her nose and cheekbones were lost. And then she retched so hard that the sound of it was enough to give Payton goosebumps. 
“Oh, baby,” they sighed, shifting closer to her again. They felt bad for jumping back, especially when she needed them. 
Students making their way through the bright, airy building cast tentative looks in their direction, picking up their pace when they noticed Payton noticing them. They wished they could morph into a giant blanket to keep their girlfriend concealed from those prying, judging glances – 
“Sorry – sorry,” Autumn gushed frantically. She pulled one arm to her stomach, scrunching the top of the bag together with the other. A deep, dry sob clawed its way out of her. “I’m so sorry, Payton. My mother, I... I don’t want her to...” 
“What, baby?” Goosebumps prickled at Payton’s skin all over again.  
“I want to stay with you,” Autumn whispered shakily. “And I don’t... don’t want her to meet you like this. Please. Please.” 
Payton nodded, though they were far from sure about this. Autumn needed to rest and be taken care of. If they could just get her to a taxi, maybe they would get her to see that going home to her bed was the best idea. 
They eyed the bag in her fist; it didn’t seem as though she’d heaved much up into it, but if she’d been throwing up since before Leigh’s call, it wasn’t surprising that she was empty by now.  
“How’s your belly feeling now?” Payton asked, tilting their head so they could see her face. 
Autumn’s bottom lip seemed to tremble for a second before she caught hold of it with her teeth. Her hazel green eyes stared at nothing, eyelids half closed, jaw clenched tightly. She gave a vague nod. “Little better.” 
“Then let’s get out of here,” Payton said. 
___ 
She held their hand and followed them through the atrium, taking short, even steps. A couple of times, Payton considered wrapping an arm around her shoulders and keeping her close, but since this was Autumn’s territory, they didn’t want to overstep what she considered to be too much PDA. They stopped off at a bin to get rid of the sick bag, but thought better of throwing it away just yet, so instead, they clenched their free hand around the top of it and carried it by their hip. 
Payton waved to the first taxi they saw by the bus stop, and the driver lifted a hand in acknowledgement. When Payton opened the back seat door, though, and Autumn swayed on her feet as they go of each other, his gaze turned sour. 
“Hey!” 
Payton jumped, peering in at the taxi driver. 
The driver pointed a thumb at Autumn over his shoulder. His eyes were dark and accusing as they glared at Payton. “Is she drunk?” 
What? Payton straightened their back, prickling with defensiveness on Autumn’s behalf. They resisted the urge to state that it was three thirty in the afternoon, remembering that this was a college campus and that anything was possible there.  
Their muscles relaxed a little and they sank into an easy smile. “No, she’s not drunk. She’s just a little sick.” 
The driver looked far from impressed. “Is she going to spew everywhere?” 
“Nope! We’ve got a bag, and I promise I’ll keep an eye on her.” Payton could hear how weakly they were pitching this. They felt like shriveling up under that condescending gaze, but Autumn needed them. “P… Please help me get her home to her bed.” 
“No,” Autumn wept quietly from the opposite side of the back seat. She turned her glossy eyes and tear-stained cheeks towards them. 
“Alright, get in,” the driver sighed, turning around to face the steering wheel. 
Payton’s earlier resolve turned to putty under the look Autumn was giving them; she didn’t need puppy-dog eyes, for she had a face so full of trust and sincerity that they didn’t dare risk letting her down or diminishing themself in her eyes. 
They tried to twist their smile into something even more reassuring as they pulled the door closed behind themself. They reached across the seat for her hand and squeezed it.  
Then they gave the taxi driver the address for Lucy’s flat. 
___ 
“Thanks so much.” Payton hurriedly paid the taxi driver and hopped out without waiting for their change.  
They sprinted around to the other side of the car, where Autumn had alighted and promptly doubled over at the edge of the road, retching horrendously. Payton grabbed her by the shoulder and slid a hand up and down her back, and glanced up at their building, wondering if this had been a good idea after all. 
“Come on, baby, away from the traffic,” they said shakily, despite there being no other cars on the road currently. They held her elbows as they both stepped up onto the path and then onto the patch of grass in front of the building. Autumn let go of a long string of electric yellow sick. She had to spit loudly to get it to drop from her lips and onto the grass. 
Payton gave her a reassuring rub on the back. They had a horrible feeling she’d held that in the whole way from campus to here, afraid to upset the driver or risk making a mess. “Well done, baby, you made it.” 
“I don’t feel good,” she complained, pressing a hand to her chest as she straightened back up. She began to pick at the fabric of her dress as though it were suffocating her. “Really... really don’t feel good.” 
“I know. I’m gonna try to help you feel better,” Payton promised, offering her their hands. They felt a little unsteady themself, carrying their own shoulder bag and Autumn’s college backpack, but they didn’t see much other choice than to be the steady one. “Think we can tackle these stairs together?” 
Autumn’s eyes flicked upwards, and she loudly hiccupped, but she gave a weary nod and let Payton lead her along. 
___ 
Payton would have thought that the last thing they wanted to see as they opened the door would have been Donnacha in the front hallway. They hadn’t considered the possibility of Donnacha in the front hallway carrying a bowl of something greasy and pungent from the kitchen to his bedroom. 
He froze and took a double-glance as Payton hoisted Autumn through the door. She’d gotten dizzy on the stairs and had leaned more and more into them as they’d neared the top, and she was practically clinging to them like a monkey. 
“A?” Donnacha exclaimed. 
Either the sight or the smell of Donnacha’s dinner offended her, because she shrank even closer to Payton’s body, pressing her nose against the front of their shirt, and groaned miserably. 
“She’s sick,” Payton offered. 
Donnacha frowned in her direction. “Autumn? You okay?” 
She shook her head, though she didn’t meet Donnacha’s gaze. Out of all three of them, she was the one who usually played the mediator, but even her will to keep things friendly was dwindling in the face of this fever and nausea. 
It made Payton’s chest pang. 
“Why isn’t she at home?” Donnacha asked when Autumn ignored him. He noticed Payton’s gaze fall upon his bowl and took a couple of steps back, holding it to the side. 
Payton couldn’t help but realise that this was probably the first time Donnacha had asked them a direct question in months. Their heart thudded with anxiety. 
“I… I haven’t met her mother yet.” Payton shuffled their feet. It felt like a silly excuse, now that they were saying it out loud. How selfish it made them seem. After all, they were being selfish. “We thought it’d be awkward to make this the first time.” 
“Right,” Donnacha nodded. His expression had changed suddenly. Softened a bit, hardened again in a different way.  
“So, um... thought I'd take care of her here tonight,” Payton added. 
Donnacha nodded again. “Did she call Helen?” 
Payton gulped. They had actually never heard Autumn’s mother’s name spoken aloud before, and it felt weird to hear Donnacha mention it quite so casually. “I don’t think so. I-I guess I’ll call her –” 
“I’ll handle it,” Donnacha said. “If – if you want.” 
A tiny part of Payton burned with jealousy and indignation, but now was not the time to think about growing a backbone. “Really? That’d be great.” 
“Okay. Well.” Donnacha rubbed at the buzzed back of his head, glancing down the hallway as though planning his escape from the conversation. “She needs anything else, you know where I am.” 
“What’s happening?” came a new voice. 
Donnacha turned to the side. Henry had appeared at his bedroom door, pyjamas hanging on his gaunt frame, his hair disheveled. It was almost five in the evening, but he looked like he’d just been rudely awakened. 
“Autumn’s sick,” Donnacha said curtly, turning to walk towards his own room with his bowl, “so Payton’s having her stay the night to take care of her.” 
Henry grimaced, sucking air through his teeth. “Vomiting?” 
Payton swallowed. “Yes.” 
“Hmm. Lucy’s going to kill you.” Henry scratched his chest and yawned. “Well, goodnight.” 
A grimace pulled at Payton’s cheeks. “’Night, Hen.” 
Payton dropped Autumn off in their room and hurried to the kitchen to fill up a glass with water. When they returned, she was half-sprawled, half-curled up on their bed in a manner that she herself might have described as unladylike. They quickly shut their door again and placed the water on their bedside locker. 
“S-sorry, my sheets aren’t the freshest.” Payton scratched their head and glanced around, at a loss for what else to do – they couldn’t exactly pull the sheets from the bed now, since Autumn was already making herself at home on top of them. And it probably wouldn’t be helpful for Autumn’s nausea if they spritzed some fabric freshener about the place. “I didn’t know to expect company. Do you want a little sip of water –?” 
“Tight.” 
“What, baby?” 
“Tight,” she murmured, face twisting into a petulant scowl that seemed so far from her usual demeanor that Payton had to tilt their head slightly. Their eyes drifted down to her waist, where her fingers were plucking at the fabric of her dress... no, trying to pluck at something inside of it. 
“Are you saying tight, or tights?” Payton asked, eyeing the glossy beige sheen on her legs. They felt their face turn a little warm, and hoped she wouldn’t think they were just ogling her if she noticed their gaze. 
“Yeah.” 
“Oh. Your tights are too tight?” 
Autumn’s shoulders slumped forwards and she pressed her forehead the bed. 
“Baby, it’s okay!” Payton sat down at the edge of the mattress. “Want me to help you out of them?” 
She nodded without looking up. 
“You want to stand up so I can...?” Payton’s heart almost took a running jump up their throat and through their mouth when, instead of standing, Autumn rolled back across their bed, knees lifted, dress slipping back up towards her waist.  
She started fidgeting with the waistband of her tights again, groaning feebly when they still refused to relinquish their hold on her. Payton crawled over to her and gently eased their fingers under the elastic, coaxing it up from the soft curve of her belly and down towards her hips. 
“Can... can you lift –?” 
Before they even finished asking, Autumn tugged her hips upwards from the bed, leaving space for Payton to slide the offending tights down to her thighs. From there, it was easier to remove them, since the fabric was able to roll and bunch together into soft wads. Her soft skin was red and indented where the elastic had pressed into it all day, and Payton grimaced with sympathy. 
They remembered all too well what wearing tights was like; although Autumn wore them for the aesthetic and occasionally for warmth, while Payton only used to wear them under their school uniform skirt to cover up the fact that they didn’t shave their legs.  
As they pulled the nylon from her feet, Payton noticed Autumn sliding one hand across her bare stomach and working it in a circular motion, either oblivious to or uncaring about the fact that her underwear was on show. In the quiet of the room, her stomach could be heard clearly, churning and gurgling and squelching. 
Payton’s ears were on fire as they slid forward on the bed again, guiding her hand out of the way and placing theirs on her bloated middle. They’d rubbed her belly before, to help with period cramps – she'd done the same for them – but never with her dress pulled up like this. 
Even though they’d spent countless hours in bed together, cuddling and kissing and giggling, very little of that time had involved states of undress. Payton often wondered if this was purely for their sake, since they were comfiest in their boxers and with their chest covered, but they were always a little too nervous to ask if Autumn was looking for... more. 
Right now, Autumn groaned at their touch against her skin. She nuzzled into their neck with her nose, and they were hit by a gentle wave of her floral perfume. “Baby, my belly hurts,” she complained, as though they weren’t already tending to it. 
“I know.” They pressed a kiss to her clammy forehead. “My poor baby.” 
“Mmm. I’m not a poor baby, am I?” Autumn mumbled softly.  
“Yes, you are, you’re my poor little baby.” Payton grinned as Autumn squinted up at them in confusion. “Accept it.” 
“No.” 
“Ssshhh.” Payton surprised themself with their assertiveness. 
“Okay.” Autumn snuggled down again, her toasty forehead burrowing into Payton’s chest. She let out a long, slow breath as they cradled her gurgling stomach and stroked her hair back from her face, but the peace only lasted a couple of minutes before she was sitting upright again, patting her sides as though she was looking for something. 
“A?” Payton whispered. 
“My mother, I have to call my mother.” Her voice was pinched with panic, the colour draining scarily fast from her face. “Where’s my phone?” 
“Your phone is in your backpack, baby,” Payton said, “but Donnacha is calling your mother, remember? He said he would call her and let her know you’re staying here.” 
Autumn began nodding then, her eyes wide and seeming to plead for reassurance. “Donnacha. Okay. She loves Donnacha. Okay. It’ll be okay...” 
Payton gave her an uneasy smile, feeling a little concerned about how jumpy she was, and not entirely excited to hear about how much her mother loved her ex. They opened their arms, coaxing her back into a reclined position. Her dress had drifted down over her waist again, covering up her striped, navy boy shorts and the red marks left behind by her tights. Payton felt awkward about lifting it up again. 
“Do – do you want to change into one of my t-shirts?” Payton asked, their face flushing all over again at the thought of her removing her dress and her bra in their bedroom. They hated how big of a deal this all seemed, and wished they could have been playing it cooler. 
“Mmm.” Autumn hummed, turning half of her face into Payton’s pillow and eyeing them shyly with the other half. “Yes, please.” 
Payton almost imploded over how cute she was. They slid from the bed and opened a drawer, pushing aside a few binders and stiffer t-shirts until they found something soft and oversized. Autumn had pushed herself into a sitting position again when they turned around, and she was taking a long drink from the glass of water. 
“Oh – careful, baby,” Payton said softly. “Can your belly handle that much water right now?” 
She gulped loudly as she lowered the glass, tongue working at the insides of her lips. “Thirsty.” 
“Yeah?” Payton handed over the t-shirt, eyeing her hopefully. “Do you feel like trying to eat something too, or –?” 
Autumn screwed up her face and rubbed at her belly. 
“Okay, maybe not,” Payton half-smiled.  
“I will puke on your floor if you try to feed me, Payton Harte,” she murmured, a flicker of her usual warmth pushing through the glazed look in her eyes.  
“Well, don’t do that.” Payton dragged their bin out from underneath their desk and positioned it next to their bed. “Puke into this instead.” 
“No, I don’t think I will.” 
“Pretty please,” Payton smiled, relieved when Autumn smiled weakly back at them. 
And then she began to pull her dress up over her head. 
Instead of standing around feeling weird about it, Payton made the snap decision to change, too. They unbuttoned the top of their polo shirt and lifted it over their head. They turned their back to Autumn as they freed themself from their binder, not feeling altogether ready to let her see their chest, even though they were sure her fever-addled mind wouldn’t remember seeing it. They slipped into a t-shirt, too, and stripped down to their boxers. 
When they turned around again, Autumn was curled up with their t-shirt on, her head positioned near the edge of the mattress, one hand touching the rim of the bin on the floor. 
“Queasy again?” they asked softly, approaching the bed. 
Autumn squeezed her eyes shut. “You were right. The water’s swishing in my belly.” 
Payton half-smiled, wishing they weren’t right. 
“P?” 
“Yeah, baby?” 
“I threw up on the stage.” It sounded like this was brand new information to her even as she said it. That tremble came back to her lower lip, but she didn’t attempt to bite it this time.  
“I heard...” Payton clicked their tongue and tucked a strand of loose hair behind Autumn’s ear so it wouldn’t tickle her nose while she lay like this. “Try not to worry about it too much.” 
“I threw up on the stage...” Autumn tugged on the bin, “and it was the closest I’ve gotten to a spotlight all semester.” 
It was the closest she’d come to complaining about being put in the chorus, and Payton couldn’t help feeling a little stunned. They shook their head, not really sure what they could say to encourage her. 
“You’ll...” They broke off, realising that Autumn’s hand had fallen slack between the edge of the bed and the bin. Her lips were still parted, a little glisten of drool already cascading from the corner of her mouth to the pillow. There was a low rumble from her stomach, and Payton instictively placed a protective hand over it, which prompted no movement from her at all. They leaned over to kiss her forehead again, and whispered, “You’ll show them next time, baby.” 
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mattodore · 1 year
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the echthroi protagonists on the set of barbie
#river dipping#theodore doe#matthias evanoff#echthroi#oc extras#i didn't feel like doing any of my other ocs bc there just aren't enough colors for the full lot (but still missing three lmao) but okay so#imani: this barbie is living in a plastic house#romeo: this ken is collecting roses#sehyuk: this ken is carving his name in flesh#dutchie: this ken is circling the drain#alessandria: this doll is tending to too many wounds#delphi: this barbie is stomaching bone#dionte: this ken is digging claws into dirt#nicholas: this ken is fading in and out of the light#............................... romeo fr the only oc in here having a good time i'm gkjfdhnfjghndfkjghn#!! cw for vague mentions of abuse and drugs and like... a lot trauma in these tags past this point bc i'm talking abt my ocs !!#we got fuckin uhhhhhh neglected child aching for affection grows up craving any kind of touch even a welt abusing substances and himself#vs. barely there boy nearly human enough for love but missing the mark and growing up detached wild too apart from anything to feel alive#vs. eldest daughter discarded for only son unable to break free from kinship and find herself and a life apart from the plastic#vs. murderer drug dealer crime lord born to a cold family then sent away and abandoned out of shame#vs. recovering catholic suffering guilt and violent urges toeing the line of morality and seeking acceptance#vs. werewolf never meant to lead suddenly having their entire family ripped from them and struggling with power and isolation and grief#vs. woman who spent her whole life being used and hurt and silenced growing claws and teeth to strike back and maim and feast#vs. lost boy in a foreign land mourning the loss of his mother has humanity ripped from him and is forever altered from failed shifting#vs. protective volatile arsonist orphan older brother figure whose entire story arc is [redacted]#vs..................... romeo the hopeless romantic like it's kjdnhkjfnghk#maybe it's just bc romeo is a new oc and i haven't had the time to really sink into him but i kinda like that about him#dutchie was originally supposed to be the untouched by history oc but then i made him catholic and well. that turned around pretty quickly#i fully blame his pinterest board for that like you add one cross image in a board and suddenly every pin you get recommended after is like#hey what if you fucked this guy up a bit? and who was i to argue with that? ...................also i just reached tag limit LMAOOOOOOOO
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