#emetophiliac

[secretobsessionstuff]

The Early Days 💜

In the early days of their relationship, Riley tried his hardest not to burp around Madix. Really, he avoided any bodily functions for the first three months of their dating. It wasn’t a big deal—just a slight aversion to showing vulnerability. Definitely not something he needed to bring up in therapy. 

So, imagine his embarrassment when his belly started to gurgle nauseously on their fifth or sixth outing that happened to be a double date with Madix’s roommate. Dakota was very friendly and loud. His girlfriend, Blair, was more relaxed. They wanted to do something more social than a movie, so Madix suggested a boardgame café just off campus. The combination of new people, a colourful environment, and an upset tummy made him dizzy.   

It was early in the evening. The four of them talked about splitting a plate of nachos as long as they kept the cards and game pieces clean. Riley agreed to everything they said, knowing full well that he wouldn’t eat anything. His stomach still felt full from lunch, and the idea of adding greasy cheese to the mix made him shiver. 

“What’s your major, Riley?” Blair asked after taking her turn to play a card. She had a soft smile that made Riley wish he could engage better in the conversation. 

“Um…psychology.” 

“That’s exciting. I almost took psych but changed my mind because…” 

A hot layer of sweat coated Riley’s body when he felt a gurgle move through his intestines. He shifted in his seat, trying to dull the squelching sounds. He caught bits and pieces of Blair’s story, but his attention was entirely stolen by the writhing in his belly. 

This was bad. The nausea and lower stomach cramps battled for dominance. He was most worried about the bubbling sensation in his bowels. Sweat gathered under his armpits and his neck. Pretty soon he would have to find the bathroom and pray that nobody else needed to go. 

Blair finished speaking but Riley apparently forgot to say anything in reply. There was a long, drawn-out pause. He startled when he felt Madix’s hand softly touch his leg from under the table. 

“Oh, that’s cool,” Riley said lamely, pushing his chair back to get out from under the table. “Sorry, I’m just gonna find the washroom.” 

For the next half-hour, Riley came and went from the table. Sometimes he made up excuses about getting a drink, yet never coming back with a cup. Sometimes he left in the middle of a game without saying a word. Most of the time, he hid himself in the single-person washroom, thankful that no one else could come in. 

His belly couldn’t make up its mind about being empty or not. Whenever he thought that there could be no more water left in his cells, he was once again proven wrong by the urgent rumbling in his guts. At least the stomach cramps were never enough to make him vomit, despite the nausea that clung to him like humid air. 

• • •

“Madix, I don’t think your date understands the concept of ‘taking turns’,” Dakota remarked as he rearranged his hand of cards for the fifth time. “He does know that the turns will eventually come back to him, right?” 

“Be patient, baby,” Blair answered for Madix. “He’s probably just nervous. Eat more nachos while we wait.” 

Madix sighed and leaned back in his chair, trying to see down the hallway that led to the bathroom. He was beginning to think that he chose an overly-stimulant place for their date. Riley had confessed to him that meeting new people was difficult for him, and here there was a whole other level to the socializing. No wonder his date kept taking breaks. Even Madix found the sounds of other people playing games distracting. The lights were too bright and the rules to every new game were complicated.  

“I should have picked a quieter place for him to meet you guys,” Madix said sadly. “I really want him to like you both.” 

Dakota nodded. “It’ll get easier. I’ll try to shut up more.”

“If he even wants to do this again,” Madix mused. 

Finally, Riley returned to the table. He ambled unsteadily down the hall, keeping his arms crossed over his body. Madix’s face lit up with a big smile as he pushed Riley’s chair out for him. That smile slowly fizzled away when Riley remained standing. 

Riley ran a shaky hand through his hair and spoke with a faint voice. “Madix, can I talk to you alone for a sec, please?” 

The boy was on his feet before Riley could finish the sentence. The two of them stood alone in the corner of the room. Madix lightly touched his arm, waiting for Riley to speak, dreading what he would say. 

“I think I’m gonna go home now.”

Madix tried to keep his expression neutral, as much as he wanted to pout and beg with Riley to stay. “…Okay, if that’s what you want. I’m sorry if this place is a bit much. It’s very busy, isn’t it?” He wanted to hug Riley and take his saddened look away. “And I’m sorry for touching your leg like that earlier. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” 

“Oh gosh, no. It’s not you,” Riley said pleadingly. Fuck, this is not what he wanted. He couldn’t let Madix think the date made him uncomfortable. But the only other option would be to admit how he felt.

“My friends really like you, I promise,” Madix rambled on. “Dakota is just an ADHD mess who never knows when to be quiet. He doesn’t realize he’s doing it. And Blair said she wants to be your best friend.” 

“Madix, it’s not you or your friends or this place.” Riley grabbed his arms to keep him from saying anything else. It was nice to lean on someone. Suddenly the fatigue, nausea, and dehydration slammed into him all at once. He swayed forward. “To be honest, I’m not feeling so hot.” 

“What?” Madix became aware of the weight he was supporting. He watched Riley’s eyelids droop, and his shoulders relax as the truth came out. Now that he knew what to look for, it was easy to see the signs in Riley’s baggy eyes, ashen skin, and sweaty palms. It explained his absence for most of the date. 

Riley let out a heavy exhale. Madix’s face softened as he began to understand. He might as well try a little exposure therapy and tell Madix the rest. “Something in my stomach isn’t sitting so well.”

“Did you throw up?” A realization dawned in Madix’s eyes. “Shit, you have that phobia thing, don’t you? What can I do? Maybe you should sit down.” 

“N-no, I’m okay for now. The fear is mainly towards other people. Like the sounds and stuff.” Riley shuffled his feet awkwardly on the floor, feeling his neck grow warm. “I haven’t thrown up. It hasn’t exactly hit my stomach yet, just um…other areas.” 

“Oh?” Madix cocked his head to the side, waiting for his brain to catch up. “Oh, right. Jeez, I’m sorry. That’s—that’s not fun.” 

Riley shook his head. Nothing about this was fun…okay except maybe Madix’s undivided attention, his strong grip on his arms, and the gentle way he spoke. Still, he didn’t want Madix to be around when the next wave hit. He didn’t want to be here at all. “So, I need to go home.” 

“Of course, yeah. I’ll order a ride.” He looked back at their table. “I’ll make up some excuse for why you have to leave. Can I wait with you outside?” 

“Sure.” 

The curb was cold on their butts, but it was better than standing. Their knees knocked together. Madix wrapped an arm around his date, trying to keep him warm. Occasionally, Riley moaned and leaned his face into Madix’s shoulder. 

“I got you. Everything good still?” 

The gurgling was back, this time causing Riley’s stomach to roil. His actual stomach. The organ ached beneath his hand. He couldn’t decide if that was better or worse than before. Nausea climbed higher up his throat, filling his mouth with saliva that he spat on the concrete. 

“I think I need to be sick,” Riley said, wiping his mouth. He opened his legs further to lean his head down into.

“Do you want me to leave?” An excellent question that Riley didn’t know the answer to. He liked the warmth pressed into his side. He liked the feeling of Madix’s hand rubbing his back. Without a reply, Madix continued by saying, “I don’t mind staying. You won’t gross me out.” 

A thick belch erupted from Riley’s mouth. He let his mouth hang open for saliva to trickle between his legs. “Ugh, please stay. I feel awful.” 

“I know, love, I know.” Madix rubbed big circles on the boy’s back. He vaguely wondered if Riley was going to overthink the term of endearment. All he knew was that his mom called everyone that, and it seemed to bring them comfort. It certainly brought Madix comfort when he’d been upset or sick.

Riley gagged over the puddle of saliva. The empty heaves rolled his shoulders forward with a harsh retch. He breathed heavily, hoping the vertigo would lessen before he actually started to vomit. His vision was obscured with black shadows at the edges. Madix remained sturdy, allowing Riley to anchor himself to him. 

A few hiccups and burps later, Riley brought up a watery wave of sick. Each successive belch became thicker until the full contents of his stomach were splattered on the ground. He felt disgusting. The view at his feet was sickening. But there is no point in describing it because none of it deterred Madix from staying by Riley’s side. 

After a lull in the vomiting, Madix squeezed his shoulder. “Do you feel better?” 

Riley sniffled. “A little. Thanks for keeping me company. I’ve never allowed a date to see me like this.” 

Madix placed his palm on his chest. “Well, I’m honoured.”

[violight-ghost]

Throwing up on a tree while listening to a drawfee vod this is the life🔥🔥

[invisible-key]

Pinned post

About

This is where I'm posting all my fetish art, there will be no irl content on this blog.

This blog is like 80% emeto, but sometimes other kinks, such as omorashi, belly stuffing etc...

I'm a 29 years old asexual woman. Feel free to send me a friendly message, I don't bite! :) (But don't try to flirt with me pls, it won't work.)

My content is intended for an adult audience, please don't interact if you're a minor.

General art tags

#my kink art (for my drawings)

#my kink writing

My kinky OCs

I wrote a short introduction to my main four emetophiliac OCs here. (Trey, Bernie, Lionel and Brin) They're major characters in a kink-focused story that I'm writing (it's like a combination of fetish porn and psychological drama), but for now all that I've published are just kink-without-plot oneshots.

I've also recentry created a female emetophiliac named Emily.

I've got plenty of non-emetophiliac other OCs that I might write about at some point too.

List of published fics (under read more)

Emetophilia-centric

Cherries and Milk (Kinks: emetophilia, stuffing; OCs: Trey; Summary: Trey likes to puke. He heard that combining cherries and milk makes one sick, and he's determined to try it on himself, with a generous dose. Word count: 1.2k words)

Sick in Public - part 1 and 2 (Kinks: emetophilia, (a little bit of stuffing?); OCs: Bernie; Summary: Emetophiliac Bernie shares his experience with purposefully vomiting in public. Word count: 1.1k words + ~800 words)

Sick in Public - part 3 (Kinks: emetophilia, stuffing for emeto purposes; OCs: Emily; Summary: Emily has been inspired by Bernie's experience and tries to recreate it. Word count: 1.7k words)

Work Meeting (Kinks: emetophilia; OCs: Shawn; Summary: Shawn starts to feel sick during a meeting at work and ends up vomiting in front of all his coworkers. Word count: ~800 words)

Roller Coaster Ride (Kinks: emetophilia, stuffing for emeto purposes, public sex; OCs: Trey, Brin; Summary: Trey and Brin have some emeto fun at an amusement park. Word count: 2.3k words)

Omorashi-centric

Wet Morning (Kinks: omorashi; OCs: Bernie; Summary: Bernie drinks 1 litre before going to bed and wakes up with a very full bladder. Word count: ~600 words)

[tummysick]

Fellow Emetophiliacs,

When did you learn what your kink was and when did you find out you weren't alone?

For me, I started googling stuff that sort of skirted around the topic and then one day a search brought up a sickfic from the now deactivated wlw-emeto blog on here (miss her). It changed my life and now I'm here with all of you :)

@guiltypleasurehoarder your question about early kink memories inspired me

[when-jaguars-are-sick]

I'm indecisive, which characterization should I give Charlie??

Okay, HELP!

I know I haven't written much for my characters yet, and Charlie hasn't really been introduced, but that's because I kind of got stuck.

You see, initially, I was planning to make her emetophobic, and I don't dislike this idea, but I'm not sure it's the best. I worry that it will make her relationship with vomit too one-dimensional, if that makes sense? And I feel like I would struggle to give her a caretaker role. However, I do have some fics that show this trait that I actually really like.

Anyway, I know I want her to have a complicated relationship with vomit, but now I'm back to trying to decide what kind.

I could stick with the emetophobia, but I'm not yet sure how exactly that would play out.

Or, she could be emetophiliac, but in a very pg way. I will not ever be writing works that are NSFW, so even if Charlie has this kink, that would never be explored in full the way other authors have. So I'm hesitant to approach this, but not opposed to it.

She could also get sympathy sick. I think this would be an interesting path to explore, however I was kind of considering giving Jamie some form of sympathy sickness as well, so I don't know if there would be a better way to do this.

There's also options like certain illnesses that could make her a frequent puker, without too many emotional factors, maybe?

I'm open to ideas and suggestions, because basically, I'm indecisive 😭

I'm making this a poll, because I would love community input, but uhh... we'll see where we go from here. I'm kind of just generally interested too, in terms of which tropes (?) people enjoy reading most, so this will be interesting.

[apotheoseity]

emetophiliacs in the audience how do you do it. i feel like a part of me just died

[basofy]

saying this not in an emetophiliac sense but i enjoy drawing vomit

[secretobsessionstuff]

The Wedding Fic ❤️

Feat. sick Madix.

I tried my best to strike a balance between the angsty sickfic moments and the cute wedding moments. I hope everyone loves it! I feel a funny sense of pride for my made-up characters. Anyway, I'll always love this community! Thank you for caring about my imaginary friends :)

-------------

“Guess what?” 

“What?” 

“I’m getting married today.” 

Madix chuckled lowly in his throat as he smoothed out the shoulders on Dakota’s navy-blue suit. He straightened his best friend’s collar, running his hands down the silken fabric so that the lapels lay flat against his chest. “Shoot, I have plans today. I can’t make it.” 

“The betrayal!” Dakota dramatically swooned and grabbed his chest. Their hands touched, making them both sober up. Dakota held Madix’s hand firmly. He sniffled—the first signs of tears of the day. “Thank you, Mads. Everything looks great.” 

“Oh, you’re not ready yet,” Madix said, rummaging in the suitcase he had packed for the day. 

The wedding hall had private rooms for the couple to get ready separately. Blair was no doubt being pampered and kissed in the room next door. He could hear soft laughter coming through the wall. It was only 9am and already the air was alive with excitement. It was going to be a dizzying day full of movement. Madix tried to steady his shaking hands as he pinned a flower boutonnière onto Dakota’s breast. In fashion with a December wedding, the flowers were white as snow with red berries as the accent. Pine green leaves added a touch of nature as well. 

“Are you nervous?” Madix asked, feeling Dakota’s chest rise and fall with each breath. 

“No,” Dakota said simply. “I’ve been waiting for this my whole life. Nothing has ever felt more right.” 

“Gosh, Kota, we’re not supposed to cry yet.” Madix wiped his eyes. He also wiped his palms on his pants. He wore a grey suit, similar to Dakota’s blue one, with less adornments. Sweat seemed to gather in every crevice of the outfit. 

Dakota watched his friend anxiously scan the room. Madix finally took a good deep breath when he put the rings in his pocket. Next, he grabbed the cufflinks off the dresser. “You nervous?” 

Madix sighed and wiped the sweat off his brow. “Maybe a bit stressed. I want everything to go well for you.” Butterflies fluttered in his stomach. He didn’t expect to have so many nerves on a day that wasn’t even his own. He regretted eating such a large breakfast at the hotel. An odd ache settled in the pit of his belly that he knew wouldn’t go away until Dakota and Blair kissed. 

When Madix finished attaching the cufflinks, Dakota grabbed his hands once more, momentarily taken aback by their clamminess. “Relax, Maddy. It doesn’t have to be perfect. I appreciate all that you’ve done up to this point. I love you.” 

“I love you too.” Madix tried to shake off the growing sense of nausea. “Let’s make you a married man.” 

…

Large windows covered the entire back wall of the wedding hall. Madix thanked mother nature for providing the fluffiest snowfall. There were no harsh winter winds or grey skies—only sunshine that danced between soft snowflakes. 

He stood at the end of the aisle with Dakota, Riley, and Dakota’s sister Logan. Logan wore a feminine grey suit that matched the rest of the groomsmen. In the first row of seats, Dakota’s father couldn’t take his eyes off his son. The two generations tapped on their legs in anticipation. Dakota’s smile grew bigger and bigger as his soon-to-be bride was about to walk down the aisle. 

The music changed, and then Blair emerged wearing winter itself.

Arm in arm with her father, Blair made the fateful walk towards Dakota. Her long white dress trailed behind her, tracking red flower petals that the young flower girl had dropped. Intricate lace covered her arms in a flurry of patterns. The bouquet of reds, greens, and white matched Dakota’s boutonnière. And her smile! Her smile matched Dakota’s as well. It was as if their joy drew them together. Madix smirked as Dakota bounced on his feet. 

Her platinum blond hair fell over her shoulders in a snowfall. She radiated warmth despite the arctic aesthetic. Her skin held a candle-like glow. Her eyes shone as if bouncing back the light from the flickering fireplace.

And then the handkerchief came out. Dakota dabbed his eyes lightly at first. Finally, when she stood next to him, he couldn’t help the flood of tears. A queen stood before him. His queen. 

Blair took his hands. “Hi baby,” she whispered, her voice cracking with emotion. 

Dakota let out a shaky laugh. “Hi, oh my god, Bee. You look—you look beautiful.” He couldn’t speak. He couldn’t find the words. His eyes remained glassy for the rest of the ceremony, filled with tears of joy. He imagined that he was looking through a snow globe, seeing only one perfect dream for the rest of his life. 

As ceremonies go, this one was short and to the point. 

Neither Dakota nor Blair was terribly religious, but a bit of Blair’s mother managed to squeeze into the officiant’s speech. Yes, it spoke of everlasting love, faithfulness, and the love of God. But it also spoke of evergreen trees, with their unwavering steadiness in the face of harsh winds. It spoke of growth and new beginnings, with the officiant playing off the chilly weather outside to mark a contrast between winter and spring. Dakota and Blair’s life as a married couple would move through the seasons, with all its ups and downs. Whether sun or rain, they would have each other to find shelter and peace in. 

Madix’s vision grew blurry, but not because of tears. He swayed on his feet, feeling a wave of vertigo wash over him. His heart thudded loud in his chest. Trying his hardest to keep his expression neutral, he bit the side of his cheek to keep the nausea from showing on his face. 

For possibly the tenth time, he wiped the sweat from his forehead. At the same time, he shivered as if there were no window blocking out the winter weather. He knew that being hot and cold at once wasn’t a good sign. Nothing happening in his body was a good sign—not the churning in his belly, nor the aches in his muscles. What started out as nerves seemed to be revealing itself as something more. Madix swallowed thickly, forcing down a nauseous burp. 

The ceremony only had a few more beats to hit. He could make it. He would not pass out, even though he wanted so badly to lean back against Riley who stood behind him. It looked like he’d be carrying a secret with him that day—a heavy secret that sat like grease in his tummy. 

Madix forced himself to pay attention when Dakota and Blair said their vows. 

Dakota went first. He pulled a paper out of his pocket and unfolded it with steady hands. He smiled at Blair, getting lost in her soft gaze until he realized that he needed to speak the words out loud. 

“Blair, Bee. I love you so fucking much. I couldn’t think of a better way to start this because writing is not my strong suit.” Dakota let out a shaky laugh, finding the right rhythm for his speech. He held the paper, though never looked down at the words. “I wish you could see through my eyes so that you’d understand that you are my entire world. I look at you when I make a joke to see if it made you laugh. I look at you when I’m scared and overwhelmed because you make me feel grounded. I look at you and I see my future. In your eyes, I see comfort and unconditional love. You put up with all my ramblings and my childish sense of humour. You help slow the world down when my brain is going too fast. I get to appreciate your beauty, your confidence, and your kindness in real time. I hope our lives together move slow so that I can spend an eternity loving you the way you deserve.” 

Tears like icicles fell onto Blair’s rosy cheeks. She mumbled a quick ‘I love you’ under her breath before taking out her own cue cards. 

“Dakota,” she began, wiping her eyes with a tissue, “you’re my favourite person to be around because I can be myself in its entirety. With you I can be vulnerable, and messy, and imperfect. It’s a gift to be able to hold someone who knows and loves every bit of your soul. You’ve always encouraged me to chase my dreams, and this is me chasing my forever dream. Our careers may change, our health may waver, but my heart will never change. It will forever be yours. I vow to always laugh at your jokes, to stand by you in times of sorrow, and to lift you up just as you have done for me. Today I get to marry my favourite person, and I can’t wait another second.”

After a few more words from the officiant, Madix was finally admitting to himself that his unease would not go away even when his best friend was well and truly married. He felt all the joy and love in his heart after hearing their vows, but that did not stop him from feeling other, less pleasant sensations, elsewhere in his body. 

Dakota and Blair were oblivious to anything that wasn’t each other—as they should be! They allowed themselves to get lost in the eyes of their partner. They held hands, wearing their giddy smiles while they exchanged ‘I do’s’. 

With snow falling in the background and candles aglow around them, Dakota and Blair shared their first kiss as husband and wife. 

…

Cocktail hour and photo ops was the worst part of the day for Madix. He held back while his best friends ventured outside to take pictures in the snow. Eventually he would need to join the wedding party in the cold for group pictures, but he took a second to himself to hide in the bathroom. He wandered upstairs where the private bathroom would give him the necessary privacy to wallow in his misery. 

He was going to ruin the goddamn pictures with his forced smile and baggy eyes. His face was the colour of January slush. The lights in the bathroom buzzed in his brain. He groaned and leaned against the sink as a burp rumbled up his chest. His stomach was a blizzard of nausea, swirling with half-digested food. 

This was the beginning of something bad. He was sick and he knew it. He prayed that he could hide it until the end of the night. Out of all the days in the year, this one was certainly the worst one to make a big deal about his own feelings. Dakota and Blair didn’t deserve this on their wedding day. 

Madix debated telling Riley that he was sick, but he decided against it for many reasons. Besides the obvious, Riley would likely insist that Madix be honest with Dakota and Blair. They’re your friends. They will understand. Well, Madix didn’t want them to understand; he wanted them to be none the wiser and go about their special day without worry. 

Madix stayed in the bathroom, forcing down burps, until he had to take pictures. He avoided hugs and handshakes as much as he could. He also avoided the appetizers and drinks. His breakfast seemed to be cooperative about staying down, but he knew that wouldn’t be the case if he tried to eat anything else. Though the vertigo was ever-present, he never dared touching the food. 

The staff members turned the ceremony hall into the dinner hall, swapping out the rows of chairs with circular tables. Deep reds and forests greens gave the room a mature and relaxed vibe. As the day progressed, the moon replaced the sun in the large windows.

Dakota and Blair had their first dance, swaying slowly like trees blowing in the wind. Blair’s dress created a halo around their feet as they spun on the dance floor. 

Madix watched until he couldn’t. He missed seeing Blair dance with her father and then missed Blair dancing with Dakota’s dad. He wanted to stay for it all, but the nausea was too great. His head swam and his tummy gurgled. Madix made some excuse to Riley and quickly fled the hall. 

His stomach was done being kind.

He jogged to the private bathroom in the groom’s room, thankful that he had access to these parts of the building. 

Madix moaned as he dropped to his knees in front of the toilet. He held his aching belly as it whined. A gurgling burp escaped past his lips, dripping saliva into the bowl. 

After a long time of gagging and spitting, he suddenly felt his stomach lurch. His shoulders rolled forward with a deep retch that came from the pit of his guts. Thick vomit splattered into the toilet. His belly gave another squeeze. He moaned as more sick gushed from his mouth. 

Ten minutes later, his hands were shaking and his nose burned with acid. He cleaned himself up, splashed water on his face, and returned to the party. 

Dinner was served to every table by this point. He had missed a lot. He let out a deep exhale and shook out his wrists to release the build-up of tension in his bones. 

At the head table, Dakota and Blair chatted with relatives who came to say hi. Madix tried to inconspicuously take his spot next to Dakota without prompting anyone to notice his absence. 

“Madix, where’d you go?” Dakota said loudly, turning to his friend. “Riley got you a plate of food.” He swung his arm over the back of his chair. “I feel like I haven’t seen you all day.” 

“You’re very popular today, Kota,” Madix said, trying to sound light. “I wanted to give you space to talk to family.” 

“Yeah, it’s crazy. I don’t know who half these people are.” Dakota looked down at the untouched food. He slid the plate closer to his friend. “Eat. You look pale.” Dakota got distracted by a relative coming up to say kind words, but he eventually turned his attention back to Madix who was only stabbing at the grilled chicken with his fork. He looked contemplative for a moment before saying, “Are you alright? You seem off.” 

Madix shrugged. “I’m good. There’s just lots going on. Lots of talking and music.” 

“You got a headache? Blair has ibuprofen.” Before he could say anything, Dakota spun around to ask Blair for meds. 

Blair reached across her new husband to hand Madix two pills. “Hope these help, Mads, because we have a good playlist lined up for tonight.” She held onto his hand for longer than necessary, noticing his flushed cheeks. “You can step outside if it’s too hot in here.” 

“I might do that actually.” 

“But be back in time for speeches!” Blair said excitedly. 

Fuck. His speech…

Madix pretended to go outside, but he just snuck back to the bathroom, hoping he could throw up one more time before he had to talk to a room full of strangers. His stomach made all sorts of noises. He hung his head over the toilet, letting stringy saliva fall into the water. He belched and hiccupped but nothing more. It caused a great sense of dread to build in his body, knowing he was at the mercy of an unpredictable stomach bug. 

Fuck it, he said, preparing to get his speech over and done with. After that, there’d be just dancing that he didn’t mind missing. 

Blair’s sister got up to the podium first, talking about the role model that Blair was. Being a teenager, she made the room laugh with her slang and fresh jokes.

His own speech was printed on cue cards that surely would be drenched in sweat inside his pocket. He pulled out the damp paper, wondering if steam was curling off his head. 

Madix plastered on a smile and stepped up to the podium. Dakota and Blair smiled at him expectantly with their arms wrapped around each other. 

He cleared his throat, remembering the taste of vomit as it clung to his oesophagus. “Dakota…you’ve been my best friend since high school…and now you’ve given me a new person to laugh with, care for, and make memories with. I love Blair as much as I love you, perhaps a little more because” —Madix paused, feeling a burp rising to his mouth. He pressed a fist to his lips, suppressing the belch before it could escape— “because she has never called me in the middle of the night asking for an emergency condom. She has never wrapped my entire desk, including my pencils, in aluminum foil…” 

Madix was sure he had prepared a third example of the ridiculous things that Dakota had done to him over the years, but he couldn’t remember what it was. He UMMed and left awkward silences in this speech until he decided to skip over it. 

This was not going well. His voice was robotic, and his posture was crap as he tried to ease the ache in his belly by leaning forward. He couldn’t rub his stomach behind the podium because Dakota and Blair sat nearly in line with where he stood. 

Madix skipped over much of his speech. He would have to give Dakota the script for it some other time because they really did have great memories, but he couldn’t bring himself to stand there for much longer. He wondered if the microphone was picking up the sick gurgles that came from his stomach. God, he hoped not. It was making so much noise, and of course now he felt like he could throw up. Now, with everyone staring at him—with Dakota and Blair waiting for him to finish his speech—now, his belly was ready to give up. 

His jaw was growing heavier, and he had to swallow an absurd amount of saliva. He hiccupped and blushed, realizing that people must think he was drunk. Finish the fucking speech. He raised his glass, “To Dakota and Blair, I hope you annoy each other now, instead of the rest of us. To Blair, I hope you know that you can come to me just as you would your best friend, because that’s what I’ll be for you as long as you love Dakota.” 

Madix forced himself to drink the champaign. The bubbles angered his belly enough to make him gag so he quickly covered his mouth and left the podium. 

He couldn’t do all that without giving his friends hugs, so he walked into Dakota’s open arms. Dakota mumbled something vaguely funny in his ear then kissed him on the cheek. 

He hugged Blair next. She too whispered in his ear, “Thank you, Madix. I love you.” 

“I love you, Bee.” 

She broke away from the hug but held onto his arm, watching his face closely. Madix squirmed under her gaze, imagining that his expression gave away his secret. Maybe it did. He mumbled something about going to the bathroom. Luckily Blair’s parents were meant to give the last speech, so she didn’t say anything to him as he left. 

Madix’s stomach gurgled ominously. It churned beneath his hand as he half-ran to the same bathroom that he’d been using all day. His knees, now bruised from before, felt the pain of landing on the cold tile once more. 

With his hands gripped tightly to the toilet, he let out the sick belch that he’d been holding for the entire speech. It burst from his mouth, bringing with it a flood of acid that burned the back of his throat. 

The rippling water made him dizzy and lightheaded. His poor tummy turned itself inside out. 

A torrent of sick rushed past his lips. He felt the chunks of food on his tongue, making him gag even more. Another heave, and he filled the bowl with more brown sludge. 

This was the moment that Blair appeared in the open doorway. As soon as the speeches were done, she snuck away to check on Madix. It wasn’t difficult to find him, given the harsh sounds of vomiting. 

The door to the groom’s room was closed, but Madix had not shut the bathroom door, thinking that no one would come into the adjoining room. She closed the door behind her and pouted at the sick boy on the floor. 

“Oh, Madix, hon,” she cooed, stepping into the large bathroom. She crouched next to him and placed a hand on his back. He shuddered at her touch. “It’s okay. I’ve got you.” 

He couldn’t say a word because his belly spasmed again. This time, tears of exertion and sadness leaked from his eyes. She touched him so gently that he couldn’t help but mumble her name. He hadn’t realized that someone else’s presence would feel so good. “Blair…Ugh, I’m so sorry.” 

She shushed him. “No, don’t say that. You have nothing to be sorry for.” She brushed his damp hair back from his face. “Oh, you’re really sick, aren’t you?” 

He nodded and leaned back against the wall. “Please don’t tell Dakota. It’s just a stomach bug.” 

Blair made a tsking noise at the foolish boy. “Honey, look at you. You’re delirious if you think I’m going to let you go on like this.” She placed her palm on his forehead. “And you’re burning up. Dakota will want to bring you back to the hotel.” 

Madix wanted to cry more, but he had no more fluid left in his body. 

“Don’t move.” Blair stood up and dusted off her dress. “We’re going to help you, you stubborn man.” 

Blair found her husband chatting with his father at one of the empty tables. Most everyone was dancing. Dakota swayed to the music, listening to his father tell a story. 

She put a hand on his shoulder. “Sorry to interrupt. Babe, can I talk to you, please?” 

Dakota followed Blair into the hallway where it was quiet. He held her hand and giggled as if they were going somewhere to make out.  He sobered up when he saw her face. “What’s wrong?” 

“Your best man is an idiot.” 

“Only occasionally. What did he do?” 

Blair pinched the bridge of her nose. “He’s really sick. He didn’t want to tell you, so he’s hiding in the bathroom.” 

A confused frown brought Dakota’s brows together. His expression softened as he begun to think back. “Oh gosh, he is an idiot.”

“Would you talk some sense into him?” It was not a question. “I’ll talk to Riley and tell him what’s happening.” 

… 

Madix had resigned to sleeping on the floor, which is how Dakota found him. He pouted at the sight of his ashen complexion. 

“Mads, what the heck is this? Did you get drunk without me?” Dakota said, trying to add humour into his voice. With a groan, he lowered himself to the floor. He touched Madix’s shoulder. “Hey, you with me, buddy?” 

In a small voice, Madix mumbled, “Please don’t be mad.” 

Dakota shook his head in disbelief. “You’re such a fool. How could I be mad?” He rubbed his hand over Madix’s back as he rambled. “I suppose I could be upset that you spent the whole day lying to me. I could be upset that you didn’t let me help you before it got this bad.” Dakota just sighed. “Oh well, whatchu gonna do?” 

They sat in silence for a moment while Dakota loosened the tie around Madix’s neck. He puttered around the bathroom, flushing the toilet and wetting a cloth to wipe Madix’s face. He then knelt in front of him. “Time to sit up, Maddy.” 

Madix did as he was told, feeling his face unpeel from the floor. He groaned from the effort it took to move. His eyes were half shut when he finally looked at Dakota. “Did you have a good day at least?” 

“Yes, I did. I married my best friend.”

“We got married?” Madix slurred, letting a playful smile tug at his lips. 

Dakota chuckled. “You’ve been demoted, buddy…Nah, I’m just kidding, you’ll always be my best friend.” With gentle movements, Dakota washed the sick and sweat off Madix’s face. “God, that’s some fever. Here, let me take off your jacket.” 

They started the day with Madix dressing the groom and ended it with Dakota helping his best man out of his fever-soaked clothes.

[yourlocallovesickie]

PLEASE tell me theres emetophiliacs out there into king of the hill i’m about to write something DISGUSTING about Dale and Boomhauer buckle up yall

On another note if theres any fandoms that you havent seen a lot of that you want to see some of or think that I might know or be interested in, let me know! Expanding my horizons right now yk

[randomguy1990]

As emetophiliac, i must admit i love seeing people vomit, but i also feel sorry for them at the same time. Every sickness that causes vomiting is terrible.

.

.

.

My mood swings like a teenager. I was doing more arts when an extremely depressed feeling attacked. It tortures me everyday...

I thought today would be a nice weekend, but it turned out bad, just because of depression and anxiety. I wanted to cry, however, i could not cry in front of my friends and family. I often pretend to be joyful to ease their minds. I really don't know how to explain when they see me sad. "What makes you sad?"... "No idea. It's just.... sad. No reason", and they are like "Wtf man? What kind of joke is that? You are being dramatic. Stop being a sad boy to get attention. You are an adult. Please grow up. Act like an adult will you?"

[invisible-key]

Sick in Public - part 1 (original version)

I rewrote this story into first person POV for the sake of consistency, but I'm leaving the original version here in case someone preffered it!

New version can be found here!

Kinks: emetophilia, (a little bit of stuffing?) 

OCs: Bernie 

Summary: Emetophiliac Bernie purposefully vomits in public. 

(Warning: Bernie is a fucking degenerate. And so am I. xD Contains detailed description of nausea and vomit as always.) 

================================

Bernie had been feeling unwell since morning. So, naturally, he decided to go shopping.

It had been two years and three months since Bernie was last naturally sick so he was very happy. He couldn't wait to experience throwing up without having to stick fingers down his throat. He thought it would be very different and exciting.

It was also the perfect opportunity for one thing: public vomiting. He loved to make a mess in public and watch the worried and disgusted stares of other people. The thought of humiliating himself so profoundly sent tingles down his spine.

He cooked himself spaghetti with minced meat and vegetables. He liked cooking but he especially liked eating. But today he didn't have appetite due to the weird uncertain feeling in his stomach. However, he wanted to be sick so he served himself a larger portion than usual and made himself eat it. He was quite full after that meal, feeling a bit of pressure in his stomach, yet he went to lie on the couch and opened a box of cookies, snacking on them until he completely emptied it.

His stomach was becoming unhappy about being forced to contain so much food. The uncertain feeling has bloomed into a full blown queasiness. Yet he wasn't close to throwing up, which left him disappointed. He wondered if getting down a bowl of ice cream would irritate his stomach more. He went back to the kitchen and took out an open box of strawberry ice cream from the freezer. It was a one litre box but there were only two thirds left as he had eaten the other third yesterday. He got down the rest, the frozen treat definitely not doing any good to his body. He softly trembled with cold and his stomach complained by gurgling. 

He could tell he overdid it. This amount of food would have normally been fine for him, at most making him a bit nauseous from overeating, but he must have actually been ill because he already felt increased salivation typical for incoming sickness. 

That meant he was ready to go out. 

He thought about calling his boyfriend so that he could enjoy this too, but Lionel didn't approve of him purposefully making a mess in public, surely he would try to talk him out of it.

He put on his less favorite jeans - in case he ends up dirtying them - and a brown shirt, picked up his backpack and left for the bus stop. The outside heat exacerbated his nausea. As he stood at the bus stop, he took in deep breaths to try to stop himself from throwing up too soon.

The bus came and he took a seat close to the middle door, facing a large open space meant for strollers. The heat inside the bus was even worse, and he felt like he was choking on the heavy air. As the bus started moving, his nausea rapidly increased. Three stops in, and he wasn't sure he was going to make it to the shopping center. He was salivating again and felt tightness in his throat.

When the door opened at the fourth stop, he wondered if he should run out to be sick on the sidewalk instead of the bus. The amount of saliva in his mouth increased and he started to get up from his seat - 

The door closed. 

Bernie collapsed back in his seat. He desperately clenched his teeth to try to keep his food down for a little longer. ‘Maybe I'll be able to make it to the shopping center,’ he thought. ‘Only two more stops…’ Yet he couldn't help constantly eyeing the door. 

Fifth stop, door opened. ‘It's fine, I can keep it down… ’ he thought as he stared at the open door, ‘only one more stop…’

As soon as the door closed he knew he had made a mistake. He was going to vomit. Now. There was no stopping it, as he took a deep breath and his stomach contracted forcefully, sending a large wave of chunky vomit on the floor in front of him, staining his jeans and shoes. A few people turned to him in shock and hurried to get away from him. There was no time to pay them any mind as his stomach was already preparing to hurl again. He doubled over as more food made its way up his esophagus and through his mouth. A waterfall of liquid mixed with undigested pieces of spaghetti splashed on the floor and his shoes. He only had time to take in a short breath before his stomach spasmed for the third time, letting out a smaller amount of watery puke, which dribbled onto the existing puddle.

He breathed in and coughed. His throat burned and he felt the acidic taste of vomit on his tongue. He sighed and leaned back in his seat, closing his eyes. He enjoyed the blissful after-vomit relief. ‘That felt so good!’ he thought. ‘Getting rid of the food that was making me sick feels so nice…’

He opened his eyes to look down at what he has produced. He was surprised to find that some spaghetti pieces were a few centimeters long. He thought he had chewed more. When the bus took a turn, the pool of sick started flowing in one direction, people dodging out of its way. He looked up at the people. Half of them were staring at him, the other half pretending not to see him, but everyone had a disgusted look on their face. ‘They all think I'm a gross pig,’ Bernie thought and tried not to smile, despite enjoying himself very much. ‘They see an ugly guy who doesn't even puke into a bag and just pukes on the floor and all over himself. They think I'm so disgusting! The most disgusting person they've ever met! Or are they thinking that I'm super ill? Are they worried about me?’

When the bus stopped, Bernie picked up his bag and trotted outside, leaving a mess on the bus behind him. His clothes were dirty with barf and the people at the bus stop stared at him too. He couldn't help smiling.

He stood in front of the shopping center but he didn't feel like shopping anymore. Instead he crossed the street to wait for a bus in the opposite direction, and went back home, satisfied. 

[ecdysisyphus]

Do any emetophiliacs wanna take advantage of my digestion disorder that makes me vomit 24/7? No? Ok..suit yourself ig……

[shodansbabygirl]

I am not an emetophiliac but I believe in their beliefs

[pmak2002]

Are you an emetophiliac?

Not exactly but I do enjoy adding it to my sickfics

[neki-is-bad-at-life]

I'm aware that on a scale of "I'm fine mom" to "an emetophiliac's wet dream" having the flu is firmly on the Not That Bad side of things but nevertheless i'd rank it easily in the top ten worst experience of my life just for how fucking annoying it is.

[secretobsessionstuff]

Hi hi, I love your work :D Never really got the nerve to send an ask in to say that tbh. If you don't mind, I have a request for a scenario you could possibly do B) No pressure though!! (If you do end up writing this I don't have a preference for any specific characters, but I'm soft for male characters.)

I'm so soft for scenes where a character is sick, but whoever they tell just don't believe them. I'm also soft for when a character coughs hard enough to get sick. If possible could you write something combining those? Or even just one or the other would be great too!! Thanks :D

Thank you for the request and the kind words!! I'm going with the first option because I too am soft for disbelieving caretakers.

------------

Shawn was a man of culture. In the Canadian museum of history, he thoroughly admired every bench, chair, and sofa with his scholarly behind. The current gallery boasted an impressive collection of fucking postage stamps. Shawn dropped his head into his hands with an exaggerated huff. Kill me now.

A mass of whining school children flocked past him, not giving a second thought to the pale and lifeless man lounging on the bench. His boyfriend was lost somewhere in the sea of families and tour groups, probably admiring the royal collection of [redacted]. Shawn didn’t care anymore. He wanted to go back to the Airbnb. 

“Are you going to sulk the entire time?” Mateo had asked as the two of them received their admission tickets. 

“I’m not sulking,” Shawn sulked.  

“Yeah, okay.” Mateo walked further on ahead, determined to enjoy the one event he had specifically requested. “I just wish you would get excited over things I care about.” 

Shawn scrunched his eyes up tight, tired of hearing this. “Hon, you know I care.” His voice was weepy with an edge of annoyance. “I told you, I’m just not feeling up to this.” 

“I recall,” Mateo said, not looking back. “Your malaise came on at such a convenient time.” 

It wasn’t Shawn’s fault that his stomach decided to reject breakfast at precisely that time. He couldn’t control the churning in his gut. The eggs and hashbrowns he had eaten earlier floated in a bath of grease in his belly. He swore he could hear the chirping of baby chicks that did not appreciate being digested. They cried out in his stomach, cursing him for scrambling their potential lives. 

A growing pocket of air forced Shawn into a sitting position. As he straightened his spine, the burp easily rose in his chest. The belch filled his mouth with the taste of sulphur, making him shiver. For the next ten minutes, he concentrated on settling his stomach. He was so lost in thoughts of nausea and discomfort that he did not notice Mateo had approached him. 

“Onto the next exhibit, then.” Mateo waited for Shawn to get up. He seemed almost nonchalant, but underneath it was a longing to experience the museum with his boyfriend. He wanted to hold Shawn’s hand as they walked through the halls. Unfortunately, Shawn kept his hands in his pockets and his head tucked into his neck. “I’m sorry the morning is boring for you. I promise we’ll do something fun later.” 

“I’m not bored, Teo,” Shawn mumbled in between burps. He pressed his fist into his mouth, trying to swallow the lump in his throat. “This isn’t my first choice of activity, but I really do want you to enjoy it.” 

Mateo swung his hand at his side, purposefully touching his boyfriend’s arm. “I want to enjoy it with you.” 

“I know.” He smiled sadly. “But I am honestly feeling…Just blah.” 

“Blah?” 

“Blahughuh, in fact.” Shawn forced a smirk that didn’t stick because he felt a ripple of nausea move through his belly. “It’s just my stomach—it’s so gurgly and full.” 

“Maybe it will settle down after one more exhibit.” 

“Maybe.” 

“Well, then you will definitely start feeling better after two more exhibits.” 

“…Mateo.” 

“What?” Mateo said playfully, still not totally taking his boyfriend seriously. “Give it two more exhibits. Your stomach probably just needs time to digest. If you still feel bad after that, then we’ll leave.” 

Shawn did not think that was a good idea, but he let his boyfriend run ahead to the next gallery. He lagged behind like a parent watching their child enjoy themselves. He would have smiled at the way Mateo absorbed himself in the history and culture that so many people dismissed, but a smile would not come to his lips. He kept his mouth pressed into a hard line to keep the nausea at bay. 

Something was horribly wrong in his stomach. The queasiness made his throat feel like it was blocked by a lump of clay. How long was Mateo going to take? Shawn didn’t know how much longer he could last. He walked at a zombie-like pace through the gallery, keeping a hand on his bloated middle. Something squirmed beneath his palm. He imagined bright yellow worms, the colour of scrambled eggs, writhing in his belly. 

Saliva filled his mouth, flooding his tongue with a warm, uncomfortable feeling. Fuck, where was Mateo? Shawn staggered about, feeling his jaw grow heavy. His whole body was telling him to get out of there. 

He found his boyfriend in the corner of the exhibit, reading an informational poster on the wall next to colourful minerals. 

“Teo?” he said after swallowing thickly. The mouthful of thick saliva came right back. “I want to leave now.” 

“Fine.” Mateo sighed, not yet looking at Shawn. “Give me two minutes.” 

Shawn whimpered. He did not have two minutes. His belly gave him two seconds after belching wetly into his hand before it forced its contents up his throat. He braced himself on the wall as a deep retch overtook him. 

Sludgy vomit fell past his lips, splattering on the floor with a wet squelching sound. Nearby people gasped and quickly deserted the area. Shawn put another hand against the wall as his back arched again. There was no stopping this now that it started. 

“Whoa shit,” Mateo said, quickly turning around to take in the sight of his heaving boyfriend. A puddle of pale brown chunks had formed at Shawn’s feet. He placed a gentle hand between Shawn’s shoulder blades. “Oh babes, I’m so sorry.” 

Shawn wanted to say something acidic, but his mouth was again filled with chunky sick. He parted his lips to let the rush of vomit join the growing mess. His poor belly gurgled and constricted. Tears clouded Shawn’s vision. He couldn’t stop the flood from coming. Everything had to come up. 

“Ugh, I can’t stop.” Shawn gagged. He sniffled and wiped at his face before the second gag proved productive. More of the bitter tasting crap came up from the burbling pit of his belly. A sob broke free in between bouts. Drool and snot hung from his chin. 

Mateo’s heart squeezed in his chest. “Shh, Shawn, babe. It’ll be over soon.” 

These cooing words did not fix anything. It did not stop Shawn from gagging, nor did it ease the ache in Mateo’s chest. The mess on the floor was his fault. The sobbing mess of a man was also his fault. None of this would have happened if Mateo had listened the first time. They could have been in a private area, probably curled up in each other’s lap, but no. He decided to prolong his boyfriend’s suffering. 

Finally, Shawn coughed and cleared his throat. His chest rose rapidly in attempt to take in more air. “Ugh God.” The words glued to his throat, coming out wet and thick. “That fucking sucked. I feel disgusting.” 

Mateo rubbed his boyfriend’s shaking back. “Come on. Let’s clean you up in the bathroom.” 

They turned around to find a janitor wheeling a mop bucket in their direction. Shawn’s face turned red, and he allowed himself to be ushered away by Mateo. He pushed the embarrassment deep down and clung to his boyfriend for good measure. 

“So, this is what Blahughuh means,” Mateo said while he wiped Shawn’s face with a wet paper towel. 

Shawn hiccupped and mumbled, “I thought I made myself pretty clear.” 

“You did. I’m sorry.” Mateo rubbed his thumb softly over Shawn’s cheek. “I should have taken you more seriously.” 

“Yeah, I shouldn’t need to puke everywhere for you to listen.” Shawn winced at the spasm that went through his belly. “I might need to go again.” 

Mateo raised his eyebrows in surprise. “What did you do to your poor stomach? Did that breakfast place poison you?” 

“That’s a very possible…possibility.”

Mateo pouted at his grey-ish looking boyfriend. He kissed his forehead. “Time to go. I'll get you a bag for the car.” 

“Five more minutes?” 

Mateo smacked his arm. “Stop, I hate myself.”