#stomachache

[supernaturallyliterate]

Currently wish to rip out my spine rather than suffer this debilitating back pain and the stomachache it’s also causing

me when my disabilities disable me:

[whumpster-dumpster]

ND Whumpee whose illness/injury interferes with their self soothing stims, e.g. trying to rock back and forth but the sickness is making their head and stomach swim so bad

[sickficideas]

can u do more about sick okarun? pls i'm sick I need food :ccc

OF COURSE !! if you want anything more specific please feel free to come back and let me know here's just some random ones lol

- He's really used to no one caring when he's sick but Momo is so intuitive to it. She notices right away when he's not acting right, even if it's just a little low-grade fever or his stomach hurts. He feels awful for worrying her with little things like that but he knows he'll upset her by trying to hide it better 😭

- Okarun collapsing in front of Jiji from a fever and Jiji being worried out of his mind because he won't wake up right away, trying to shake him awake and talking to him the whole time 😭 Okarun is so tiny compared to Jiji that carrying him is nothing I love this imagery

- I like the idea of his stomach being sensitive to something (like fizzy drinks for example) but it's something Momo frequently offers to him and he's too much of a sucker to turn it down. He'll drink it even if he knows it'll make his stomach hurt a bunch

- The stress stomachaches are real for him too 😭 the sort of thing where it's worse when he doesn't eat but he thinks eating will make him more nauseous so he doesn't eat lol 😭😭

[fieldexplores]

Fuecoco doesn't learn a lesson

[pmak2002]

There was something peaceful about laying on the bathroom floor with your sickly husband asleep on top of you.

He had a terrible stomach bug that had been keeping him up all night. You enjoyed the quiet that had finally settled in your small bathroom.

You laid awake as you played with Timothee’s sweaty curls.

You were grateful that he was finally able to get some rest. He had been miserable all day and now he was up during the night too.

You peppered kisses on his head and hummed to yourself. You could hear the sounds of NYC outside the window of the apartment building.

Timothee’s stomach gurgled uncomfortably as he laid ontop of you. Only wearing tank top and shorts as he was sweating buckets.

You rub his back and coax out a few burps and farts from him. His normally slim body was bloated from gas and it made him miserable and uncomfortable. Despite the bed made from multiple blankets and pillows on the floor next to you.

Timothee had rolled over to lay on you instead. He only wanted to be held while he slept. So you were stuck until his body decided it needed to purge itself. Thankfully he had been asleep for a while and you hoped it stayed that way.

You don't know how long you are out for. But when you wake up Timothee has gotten up groaning in pain clutching his stomach. He looks at you eyes glassy and tired.

His stomach making horrifically loud noises that sound like they really hurt.

timothee groans and rushes over to the toilet to have bad diarrhea, his shorts around his ankles and his whole body shakes from the effort of expelling watery waste.

You frown and go to kneel next to the toilet where Timothee removes his hand from his stomach to grab yours and place it where it hurts the most. You immediately begin to rub and gently massage his bloated belly.

“Hurting!” Timothee groans with each cramp.

“I know lovey I’m sorry.” You say. You gently massage his bloated stomach until he feels empty and has nothing left to expel out his backside.

You help him clean up and flush away his mess. Then help him return to the pile of pillows and blankets on the floor.

As soon as you sit down though he's on your lap whimpering and shaking. You frown as he's clearly becoming delirious from the high fever.

“Shh it’s alright you’re ok I’ve got you.” You say gently as you hold him in your arms. He buries his face in your neck.

Work had been a lot and he was so exhausted and in a way it was good that his body was forcing him to rest.

Of course he was absolutely miserable and in pain. That sucked but he needed all the rest he could get and now that he was sick. He could rest.

Timothee whines and nuzzles you.

You hold him tight and kiss his head. his stomach gurgling and bubbling as he sits on your lap. You use your other hand to gently massage his stomach.

You sit like this for a while holding him and trying to help him relax despite the pain in his belly. soon hes nauseous and leaning over the toiket burping up whatever is left in his stomach which isn't much of anything.

He whimpers and coughs as he spits into the toilet. You rub his back and stomach trying to help him find any relief from the aches in his gut.

"Why does it still hurt when I have nothing left?" He cries.

“I wish I knew.” You reply. You grab toilet paper to wipe his mouth. After tossing out the tissue you go and lay down on the floor with the blankets and pillows that were supposed to be for Timothee. He lays down on you like earlier and you wrap your arms around him and kiss his head.

“Time to sleep mon armor.” You say.

He yawns and you grab a blanket to pull over the both of you.

He sighs heavily and his entire body seems to finally relax and he falls asleep on you once again. You play with his hair until you fall asleep too.

[sickficideas]

imagine if atsushi's stomach is super sensitive when it comes to any sort of carbonated drink because he never had a chance to try it in the orphanage, so his stomach is just not used to it at all. Ranpo convinces him to try soda for the first time and poor Atsushi ends up vomiting because his tummy can't handle the fizziness

after that experience, he stays away from carbonated drinks for the most part but maybe at an office party or whatever, he's a little tipsy and ends up drinking some sort of bubbly alcoholic drink. He gets all hiccupy and he's trying to hold back lil burps and just isn't having a good time anymore. He has to deal with his tummy churning and nausea in the back of his throat for the rest of the night. Being drunk makes the experience worse. He ends up being able to keep it down until he gets home, which is when he stumbles into the bathroom and pukes his guts out.

i like to think that maybe akutagawa was waiting for him at home or smth and is just so confused when atsushi throws up?? he's like, damn, i didn't know you were THAT drunk and atsushi is like it was the fucking bubbles lol

this is so cute😭😭 i love the idea that he couldn't pinpoint it at first and assumed it was just that specific drink that made him throw up, but a few different sodas later helps him realize it's just the carbonation....😭 and maybe he hopes the alcoholic ones are different somehow so he doesn't even think of it until his stomach starts hurting and then he realizes 😭😭

Akutagawa totally doesn't believe him at first but he slowly realizes that Atsushi is coherent for the most part while he's throwing up and he's like okay maybe it was just the bubbles ..... Atsushi groaning over the toilet and swearing he's never going to drink anything bubbly ever again 😭😭💔

[goawaygoodday]

Finally made a new account after lurking for forever 🙃

I like guys with tummy aches who become whiny, dramatic, pouty creatures when they have an aching belly. Submissive men who overeat and then beg for belly rubs and can’t stop moaning about their tummies aching makes me 🫠

There’s some cross over/adjacent kink stuff that I don’t mind and can be hot sometimes but,

basically the only thing I’m into is guys with tummy aches 😍🥺🫠

[secretobsessionstuff]

it’s so good to have you back! i have an idea for a potential future blair fic. what if blair comes down with a nasty stomach virus compounded with a migraine while on a road trip to somewhere important with dakota? maybe she thinks it’s just a migraine and then well.. shit gets real *no pun intended* haha. it doesn’t have to be a road trip, if that doesn’t inspire anything for you, but maybe somewhere where she can’t get away that easily? no worries if you aren’t interested and if you are, take your time! 😊

Thanks for the no pressure! It helped a lot as I try to get back into this. I wasn't sure if the "pun" meant no scat lol, so there's just emeto. I hope it's okay...don't know how I feel about it. Maybe typos maybe not...but probably typos.

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

Blair thought her headache would fade once they left her parents’ house. Seeing her extended family for Easter was always a joy, but she could do without the noise from the little ones. At first, the squealing and giggling upon finding an Easter egg was cute. Inevitably, the happy laughs turned into fits of crying and tantrums when the celebration was over. Though the children weren’t happy to be leaving, Blair had to admit she was looking forward to a silent car ride home with Dakota. 

Two hours into the four-hour drive, and her headache had morphed into a migraine. She succumbed to the pain a while ago by leaning the passenger seat back as far as it would go. Her sweater lay over her eyes to block out the daylight. She wrapped her arms together in an attempt to sooth herself, but it was Dakota’s soft voice that did most of the work. 

“Is it just as bad?” he asked, brushing a hand over her knee. In times of crisis like this, Blair liked to kick off her shoes and sit cross legged. Maybe if she made herself smaller, the pain would shrink as well. 

But no, the pain pushed against the walls of her body. Hey eyes threatened to explode from the pressure; her belly whined to the beat of the blood pumping in her ears. Misery loved company, so her head seemed to have invited her stomach to join the party. 

“It’s getting worse,” she mumbled and shifted uncomfortably in the small space. The bumpy ride did nothing to ease her aches. Every bounce and turn jostled her like Jello. She imagined her brain jiggling against her skull in time with her roiling tummy. “Can you go slower?” 

“Gosh, babe, if I drive any slower, we might make it home by Christmas.” Dakota’s eyes squinted in the sunlight. Keeping his eyes on the road hardly mattered when they were going 40 in an 80, and there were no other cars along the country road. He set the cruise control to the snail-like pace so that he could give his fiancée more of his attention. “If I hold out my arm like this, you can lean against me.” 

Blair just groaned and sat up straight in the seat. The sweater fell from her face, making her wince at the harsh light. At the same time, the car rolled in and out of a pothole. Her stomach rose in her throat. “Really? You couldn’t have gone around that?” Her tone was as acidic as the liquid that burned her esophagus. 

“I’m doing my best, Bee.” Dakota took his hand off her leg. “I know you don’t feel well, but don’t get mad at me just ‘cause I’m the only one here.”

That hurt. Not as much as the sword through her head, but it stung nonetheless. “I’m sorry,” she said, miserably wrapping her arms around her midriff. “I just feel sick to my stomach, and this bumpy ass road is not helping.” 

Dakota opened his mouth to provide comfort, but Blair was not finished. 

“And the sun is so fucking bright, and what is that horrible smell? It’s like burning rubber.” Blair pouted. “Why does everything in the universe hate me?” 

Dakota gave her a lopsided smile. “Well, I’m in the universe and I don’t hate you.” 

Blair scoffed and cracked a small grin. “Stop being adorable. I’m dying here.” She had to admit, his joke allowed some tension to ease off her shoulders. She wasn’t alone and everything wasn’t terrible. There were many things that were terrible, but her partner was not one of them. “…Thank you.” 

“Aw, you know I just want you to feel better.” Dakota reached his hand out to rub her belly. “I’m sorry this migraine came at such a bad time. It’s making you feel sick?” 

She nodded. “The nausea is bad this time. Usually I can ignore it.” 

Dakota must have let the Easter bunny take the wheel while he scanned her face. “You do look very pale. Are you going to throw up, you think?” 

She shook her head, then immediately regretted the decision. “I hope not. I’ll try to fall back to sleep so that doesn’t happen.” 

Ironically, it was the nausea that kept her from sleeping. The pain in her head swelled with her bloated belly. All that chocolate coated her insides in a thick layer of gooey slime. When she began to burp, the taste of Terry’s chocolate orange made her gag. 

Blair was alert now. With wide eyes, she clamped a hand over mouth. She forced down two more burps or else she knew Dakota’s car would be ruined in seconds. “Babe—” she began, feeling a tightness in her throat that pinched her words “—Pull over. I need to be sick.” 

Without hesitation or issue, Dakota brought the car to a stop. "Wow sleep did not happen, eh?"

What a stupid time to ask a question.

Blair threw the door open with just enough time to lean over and burp wetly over the ground. She gagged, bringing up a small wave of vomit. It was mostly coffee from the afternoon. The bitter flavour clung to her tongue, but it would not stick around for long because there was much in her stomach to get up.

"I'm right here," Dakota said with a hand on her back. "You're okay." Blair leaned further out of the car with the next heave, nearly falling onto the grass. He caught her arm. "Oh, maybe you're not. Hold on, I'm coming around."

He turned off the car and jogged to the other side. Luckily there were no cars with them on the road. If Blair wanted privacy, she picked the right place to lose her lunch.

Her lunch was fertilizing the grass. Hopefully the open field would thrive on half digested chocolate, coffee, and cubes of cheese that were no longer in the shape of cubes.

She coughed and burped in between waves. "Ugh, Kota, help..." She reached out for him and allowed him to help her out of the car. They staggered like drunken lovers until their knees met the earth.

"I got you." Dakota held onto her shoulder and pulled her hair away from her face. "You're doing good."

"...my head..."

"I know." Dakota kissed her forehead. His lips met unexpectedly warm skin

"...my tummy..."

"I know." Dakota did not lean down to kiss her tummy because the organ chose that moment to convulse again. He heard a gurgling sound in Blair's throat before she pitched forward and heaved a mostly-liquid bout of sick onto the ground. Dakota rubbed her back. "Oh my Bee."

Blair fed the flowers one more time, shedding tears from the force of each retch. The vomiting released pressure from her head but did nothing to ease her belly; it only reinforced the ache that dwelled in her gut.

Dakota's lips still tingled from the heat of the kiss. He knew then that he had to get her home fast. They would need to go much faster than they had been, but at least a bed would be waiting. Blair couldn't suffer like this while on the road.

The universe agreed that Blair should not be in the car.

When Dakota went to start the car again, the engine gave a mighty good try, but failed. Dakota swore under his breath and spared a glance at Blair who still sat in front of a puddle of sick in the grass.

"No, please, no." He took the key out and tried again. "Come, on come on."

The engine tried, and tried, and...nothing. It was just as fatigued and sick as his girl. He called the doctor for only one of the patients.

Defeated, Dakota returned to Blair's side. By the looks of it, she hadn't thrown up again. He sat down next to her with a dejected sigh. "I have bad news."

"I heard."

They both sighed and sat unmoving on the grass. Blair's gaze was lost in her thoughts or maybe her pain. Dakota's gaze never left her. Her red cheeks, grey lips, and dark eyes worried him. He reached out silently with the back of his hand to touch her forehead.

Blair looked up at him with glassy eyes. "More bad news?"

"Yeah." He scooted closer to her and kissed the side of her head. "Remember when I got an infection while camping and got a really bad fever?" Her expression told him that she remembered, though not fondly. "This might be something like that, at least until the tow truck arrives."

"I knew the migraine was different this time. I just don't understand where this bug came from."

"You were around children all weekend. What do you expect?"

• • •

Blair slept in the backseat of the car while Dakota kept watch. She put her head in his lap and tried to ignore the gurgling in her tummy. Again, Dakota came to the rescue and gently rubbed the warm skin of her belly.

He wasn't sure how long he traced circles and lines over her stomach, but it was long enough for the sun to begin setting. He made a game out of spelling different words with his fingertips. In invisible ink, he wrote words like 'love' and 'Blair' and 'dildo'.

Occasional gurgles emanated from her belly. Dakota worried that Blair would bolt upright and tell him to pull over as if the day would repeat itself. But she stayed asleep. Her expression softened in her slumber.

Amazingly, she only woke up when Dakota moved to greet the tow truck driver. With the plan settled, he returned to the car.

"Honey." Dakota shook her awake. "We're going home now."

By the time Blair came to her senses, the car was ready to be hitched to the truck.

This was bad. Blair paced along the road, bitting her nails. She watched the car be lifted partially off its wheels. This was very bad. The driver spoke to Dakota and then went into the truck. Very very bad.

Sleep was good, but her belly did not like being awake. Suddenly the nausea came rushing back. The headache was gone, but the virus had nowhere near run its course.

"Babe, you ready?" Dakota called. She did not move. He came closer. "Honey, are you alright?"

With tears in her eyes, she shook her head. "I'm going to throw up in the car. I can't. I feel really sick again."

"Okay, okay, no worries." Dakota tried to calm her down. "I'll explain the situation to the driver and he'll understand."

Something wet and horrid squirmed in Blair's stomach; it was the dread of driving in a gross truck while feeling like this. But it was also the very real bug that filled her throat with nausea.

"Please don't make me do this, Kota." She covered her mouth to hide a wet burp, but she could not keep the moan from escaping. "I don't feel good."

She was losing colour by the second. Dakota felt like he was approaching a timid animal. "Okay, we can wait. It's fine."

"I don't like this. I don't wanna--urp--throw up again." She paced with her hand glued tightly to her mouth. Her legs shook and her back spasmed with the need to lurch forward. She felt the gag rising from the pit of her belly.

Dakota touched her arm. "Baby, just let yourself be sick. The man can wait. And if you need to throw up in the truck, just do it. I'll tip him well."

She shook her head.

"I'm right here. Nothing bad is going to happen." He started to gather her hair in his hand. "That's it. Lean over. I've got you." She moved her hand away and retched emptily. It was like her belly was shy as well. "Let it happen, Bee."

Maybe it was Dakota's hand on her back or the fact that she wanted this day to be over, but Blair gave in to her need. She relaxed her muscles just long enough for them to squeeze tight once more when the sick came rushing out of her mouth.

"Good job," Dakota said. "Five stars. Encore."

Blair gave an encore, not that she could help it. She would not have given it five stars.

In the end, Dakota's encouragements are what saved the day. She felt secure enough in her tummy to get in the tow truck. Dakota did indeed explain the situation just in case, but it was not needed. Nor was the bag needed. Thank God. The truck had three seats in the front. Blair hid herself behind Dakota who took the middle. It was a long drive, but a clean one.

"I'm sorry this happened, Blair," Dakota said softly when they were five minutes from their house. "How are you feeling, now?"

"Better maybe." She squeezed his arm. "Thanks for being the one thing in the universe that is right."

[butterfliesornauseous]

Needed a distraction so here’s just cute tummy ache stuff ♡

1. The contrast of comfortably cold hands on an uncomfortably warm tummy from a heat pack or layers of clothes (or warm hands on a cold tummy.)

2. Sickie feeling like they don’t deserve to be emotional or comforted since it’s only a stomach ache and not an actual sickness, but caretaker soothes them anyway and makes them feel valid.

3. Bringing out the good teas specifically just to soothe a tummy.

4. Public setting tummy aches where sickie is wearing something tight so caretaker swaps clothes with sickie since they are wearing the looser clothes or letting sickie wear their sweater, so they can undo their tight clothing underneath.

5. “What’s wrong” in caretaker’s normal voice, followed by a much softer “your tummy hurts?”

6. Sickie falling asleep in caretakers lap while their stomach was being rubbed and waking up to their tummy still being rubbed and smiling up to caretaker since they feel better now.

7. Sickie having to do something big while their stomach hurts and afterwards caretaker reassures them that nobody could even tell they had a stomach ache.

8. Sickie that gets emotional when their stomach hurts and caretaker let’s them get their emotions out rather then telling them they only feel like because their stomach hurt and afterwards looking after their actual stomach ache.

9. Hugging pillow or plush to an upset tummy (better if its caretakers for that farmilar comfort.)

10. Caretaker asking sickie to point out which point of their stomach hurts to kiss that spot.

[randomguy1990]

[sickficideas]

sigma has a very sensitive tummy...sometimes the stress is all too much!

[mainmoenmomentmaybe]

prologue of worlds scrappiest comic FIXERDDD

Dialogue Transcript under cut + bonus doodle + tags

purple: oh, hello.

green: hey. Why are we drawn so poorly.

green: hell, where even are we?

purple: beats me.

green: you seem more fleshed out than me.

purple: probably because I came first.

green: wanna go out?

purple: sure. hell yeah.

purple: ...so. who are you, anyways?

green shrugs

purple: hey. I'm serious.

green: do *you* know who you arem

purple: ...you looked really ugly for a second.

green: really?

green: are you taller than me?

purple: not usually.

purple: perhaps you are inconsistent.

green: maybe so.

purple: all this blotting is making me run thin. Weren't we going to ggo go out?

green: yes. Yes. Of course.

purple: what now?

green: you stuttered.

purple: did not.

green: did too.

purple: what does this even have to do with going out?

green: hesitancy.

purple: yours, or mine?

purple: I don't think that's even stuttering. Its cancellation of a misspell. Like thsi this. And stuttering doesn't necessarily declare hesitancy. Speech issues are a thing that just exist. Besides, if you're hesitant, we don't--

purple: what. What is that face.

green: I'm sulking.

green: I admit, it is of my own cause, and I apologise for that. I thought I had a good grasp of how you function when I didn't. I will simply have to learn about you better.

green: I will do my best not to repeat my mistakes of course. And you are rightly- although not obligated of course- free to call me out on my future behaviour-

purple: oh... that's nice. accountability.

green: admittedly, I am hesitant because of my own inconsistency.

green: it feels as though if I leave this place, I'd start to unravel.

purple: ...that is a concern for the both of us

green: both?

purple: perhaps you have not noticed, but I'm just as inconsistent as you are.

green: wow... you are full of delightful surprises

purple: thank you

green: Well, since we're both staying here- may I have the honour to get to know you?

purple: pfft-

purple: haha- nono don't get embarrassed!

purple: besides...

purple: I'd like to get to know you better too.

green: okay.

green: let's do this, then?

purple: it will be an honour.

End (please do not repost)

Tags;

@riodoesstuff (i...think you chose that option?) @archangel-fucking-judas @penguins-dragons

[goawaygoodday]

Hot guys have tummy issues

[secretobsessionstuff]

i have a little set of blair/dakota scenes in my head i wanted to put in a request for please!! one night, they come home after a big dinner, overstuffed and cuddly. blair has indigestion but kota helps get the burps out and they go to sleep. but the next morning, blair is still bloated... and she realizes all that old food is about to be burped right back up. (maybe onto the blanket? toilet? cup by the bedside table?) ty ty!!

Hi anon! Thanks for the beautiful request and your infinite patience. 💙

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

The only reservation they could make was at 9pm. It was a little late for Blair and Dakota’s liking since they both had work early the next morning, but they booked it anyway because they were craving sushi and conversation with each other after a long day at the office. 

The sushi was cold and refreshing, while their conversation was warm and relaxing. Dakota and Blair reminisced over their first few dates while eating sashimi, spicy salmon salad, and sushi pizza. Blair laughed but enjoyed the Canadian invention of making sushi mimic pizza. A fried rice patty acted as the bread, with avocado, crab meat, mayonnaise and wasabi acting as the toppings. 

They didn’t linger in the city for long after dinner. Their bed was calling to both of them by the time they cleaned their plates. Blair could have fallen asleep at the table, with the big meal rumbling in her belly. She got that sluggish over-stuffed feeling from all the food. After taking a swig of water to help her stomach digest, she burped deeply into the empty glass. She excused herself with an embarrassed laugh. 

Together they stumbled up to the front door of their home, drunk on the lethargic feeling of eating too much. The growing nausea also reminded Blair of late-night drinking. Her cheeks felt hot and the fatigue in her bones made her wobble like an alcoholic. 

Blair let out a heavy sigh as she fell onto the bed next to Dakota. Rubbing her full belly she said, “This is why I don’t like eating too close to bedtime. There’s no way I’ll be able to fall asleep like this.” She was all bloated and squirmy, wiggling on the bed to find a comfortable position. 

Dakota pulled her in close, seemingly determined to make her comfy. “I can rub your belly until you fall asleep.” He supressed the urge to say that he would rub something else and glide his hand passed her belly button, because he sensed that she was feeling more than a little full. Her tummy grumbled loudly, and she curled in on herself. He could feel the organ moving beneath his hand. Gurgles and light vibrations tickled his palm. 

Blair pushed her back up against Dakota’s chest so that he spooned her. “Will you rub in big circles like you did the last time? Felt good.” 

“Sure.” Dakota chuckled softly into her hair, then shooed the strands away that tickled his nose. “You fell asleep fast when I did that.”

“Let’s hope I do this time.” She burped into the pillow. “Mm, it’s late. I don’t like feeling so full.” 

“Shh, just focus on the feeling of my hand on your tummy. Nothing else.” Dakota flattened his palm against her midriff. He circled all the way up to ger ribs and down to the waistline of her pajama pants, occasionally using his fingertips to add a light touch. 

Blair must not have found his touch so light because she started to burp as soon as he made one circle around her middle. Her stomach tensed with each build up and release of gas. She shivered, tasting the memory of spicy sushi in the back of her throat. She was glad to be facing away from her boyfriend. 

The belches just kept coming. Some were long and deep; others were quick but painful. It didn’t matter the size or intensity in the burps—nothing was making the indigestion go away. Dakota must have sensed her frustration because he gave her tummy a good push. The burp rumbled up from the pit of her stomach and splashed the back of her throat with a something spicy and unpleasant. She immediately shot up into a sitting position, slapping a hand over mouth. Acid reflux and nausea crawled up her throat. 

“Sorry, honey.” Dakota pulled his hand back fast. The sound that gurgled in her throat made him worry that he nearly just made her puke. “Are you okay? I didn’t mean to make it worse.” 

Blair waited a beat before answering. Her throat moved as she swallowed down the close call. “I’m okay. It kinda helped.” 

Blair’s pale face and wide eyes gave Dakota a moment’s hesitation. “You sure? It looked like you were about to be sick.” 

“For a second I thought—but no I’m fine.” She shook her head to shake off the lingering nausea. It was true, she did almost lose her dinner all over the bed, but then everything settled down just as fast. The massive belch at least helped to bring up the trapped air. She could feel the indigestion losing its grip. 

“Really?” he asked, still on high-alert and propped up on his elbows. He abandoned his comfy spot when Blair jumped up. 

“Yes, really.” She placed her hand on his chest, easing him onto his back again. “I might be able to sleep now. But to make up for scaring me, I get to lie on your chest.” She was already beginning to find a soft spot between his shoulder and pec, and avoiding his collar bone that sometimes dug into her cheek. After many many nights of sleeping this same way, she knew what would feel best. 

“Come here.” Dakota nuzzled his face into her neck and pulled her as close as he possibly could, just short of letting her sleep inside his skin. 

• • •

Blair awoke the next morning to the absolute worst taste in her mouth and dried drool on her pillow. She peeled her face off the pillow with squinting eyes that were still adjusting to the sunlight coming in from the window. She felt like she had the flu or something. Her stomach ached as if it were pumped full of rotting food—in a way, it kind of was. It seemed her stomach hadn’t done any digesting while she slept. It simply let last night’s dinner soak and marinate in stomach acid. On top of it all, her belly was still bloated and gurgling painfully. 

Dakota must have gotten up earlier because his side of the bed was empty. Blair hoped she could shake him awake, but clearly that wasn’t going to happen. She could hear him moving around in the kitchen. 

Shouting for him was not an option when her mouth began to fill with saliva. All that food from last night was coming up now. She didn’t have to time to throw off the blankets before a deep belch burst from her mouth. Blair gagged from the taste that coated her tongue—fishy and spicy, and not something she ever wanted to experience again. 

Thick strings of saliva dripped off her lips as she continued to burp and gag. 

Dakota’s whistling came clearly from down the hall. Blair was happy to have him near when she inevitably puked everywhere, but she was sorry that his first look at her that morning would be of her hunched over, hugging her belly, and gagging on the bed. 

“Baby?” Dakota knocked on the ajar door. “What’s that sound? Are you—Oh shit.” Dakota scrambled for something to do as he watched Blair burp up a wave of old, clumpy sushi onto the blankets. 

The sick fell like mush past Blair’s lips. The texture alone was enough to make her heave again. She choked up another mouthful of vomit onto the bed. She held onto the duvet so tightly that her knuckles turned white.

“Fuck honey,” Dakota said gently as he came to sit on the edge of the bed. He helped her sit up straighter and rubbed her back. Big circles. Big circles between her shoulder blades and on her lower back until she was able to catch her breath. 

“Ugh, I’m not done.” she sniffled and wiped the bile that dripped from her lips. “My belly’s so full still.” 

“Do you want a bucket or—” Dakota began but was cut off by Blair belching up another stream of puke. “Oh…nevermind.” He sighed and continued to rub her back. “That’s alright. Get it all up.” 

Blair burped up all of last night’s meal until she felt like there was nothing left in her tummy. The organ still ached and groaned even when she brought up the last small wave of partially digested rice and yellow bile. She coughed and sniffled like a mad woman until falling forward and letting her head hit Dakota’s chest. 

He quickly enveloped her in a hug. “Oh Bee, that’s not a good way to start the day. Your poor tummy,” Dakota cooed as he slipped his hand under her shirt. With the softest touch, he let his hand fall back into the rhythm of big circles. 

Blair allowed herself a few moments to contemplate death inside the hug, until she scrunched up her nose and pulled away from her boyfriend. “Ugh Kota, I have to get up before the smell makes me puke again.” 

“What smell?” 

“Shut up, this is fucking disgusting.” 

“I haven’t a clue what you’re talking about.” 

Blair shoved him off the side of the bed. It was nice of him to pretend like nothing was wrong, but she really would spend the entire morning dry heaving if she didn’t start cleaning. The one good thing about this whole mess was that her stomach would start feeling better now that it was empty; she just had to get away from the puke that was soaking into the blankets. 

Dakota helped her wrap up the blanket, ensuring that nothing spilled. Afterword they had the unavoidable debate over whether Blair should attempt to go into the office. It was no surprise that Dakota argued strongly for her to stay home. 

“Baby, you’re going to be shaking and nauseous all day. I know you.” He said adamantly. “I promise you’ll be refreshed and ready to girlboss tomorrow if you take the day to feel better.” 

“But I’m not even sick sick.” 

“You threw up at least three times. By my count that sick sick sick.” 

Blair sighed at his ridiculousness. “Why are you like this?”

“It’s a long story.” He took her hands and dragged her back to the bedroom. “It’s going to take all day to explain so get comfy.” 

[whumpster-dumpster]

It's not pretty aesthetic whump, it's icky, so I can see why a lot of us don't bother with it but constipation really is underutilized in whump content

[bellysoupset]

"I can't," Lucas groaned, resting his forehead to the table and wrapping his arms around his stomach, "I'm done."

"No, you're not," Vince pushed the fries his way, looking stuffed himself, but still dutifully munching on his fifth burger, "c'mon, Luke, you know how it is."

He did know how it was. At the current weight category he was sitting at - and Vince too - by the time the next season started, they'd be flung around like ragdolls. They didn't stand a chance.

Lucas nodded, grabbing a handful of fries and bringing it to his mouth, not even bothering to muffle the burp that snuck out as he stuffed his face.

They were sitting at Alfredo's Stopover, a greasy diner with super cheap meals and free refills for their drinks, that was a common stop for the football team and known as simply "Fredo's". Their town wasn't that big to begin with, so they actually got a discount there, Alfredo himself being in his late 60's and whose three sons had been a part of the football team when they were in college.

Pleasantries and manners were wasted in Fredo's.

Vince groaned, patting his stomach and rubbing on the side, working up a large burp. Large enough it startled Lucas, causing him to jump and hiccup.

"Don't do that, you're gonna making me hurl," he groaned, kicking his friend under the table and then wincing when the movement only caused his stomach to churn harder. He was stuffed. Between the two of them they had cleaned up more than twelve full burgers - real stuff, not those tiny things McDonalds' served - five extra large coke cups and three large fries portions.

It was their first cheat day in the new bulking season and at first Lucas had been excited about having greasy fast food instead of ultra healthy protein shakes. It was no longer the case, though.

Vince groaned again, shifting on his seat and then massaging his left side. He had removed the stitches a while ago, but clearly it was still sore when his stomach was stretched like that, "I'm so fucking full..."

"You're bigger than me," Lucas mumbled, eyeing the remaining fries with disgust, "so you can imagine how I feel."

"Uhm," Vin answered, struggling to take a deep breath, "can my stomach burst? Feels like it's going to burst."

Lucas chuckled at the imagery, only for his stomach to jump to his throat. He pressed his fist to his mouth, breathing through the hot nausea pooling on top of his belly and swallowing the fries that tried to come up back down.

"Luke?"

"I'm actually done," he decided, giving up on the last handful of fries, "if I eat another bite I'm gonna barf."

"Pussy," Vince scoffed, reaching over and grabbing the last fries, eating it all in one bite. He thumped his chest, bringing up another burp and then stretched on the booth, spreading his legs apart, "okay, I need a minute for this to settle."

Lucas didn't bother answering, he was feeling too sick to even try and make conversation. The fact that he'd have to eat again in three hours was enough to make his stomach hurt.

Across from him, Vince was pressing on his stuffed stomach, working up a string of unashamed burps and Luke grimaced. He was packed so full, if he burped he was going to hurl.

He leaned back too and tugged at the elastic of his pants, rolling it down and causing Vin to snort in an amused way, "you look pregnant, Luke."

Lucas opened a pained smile, planting a hand on the curve of his belly and holding it, as if he could relieve some of it's weight with his hands alone. Vince belched again, undoing the cords of his own sweatpants and loosening the whole thing up, before tying the silliest bow over his bloated stomach.

They stayed quiet for the longest time, Vince burping up a ton, while Lucas swallowed his food back down, here and there letting out the tiniest of burps, getting no relief from it.

"time for dessert, boys?" Alfredo, the sixties aged owner, stepped to their table, looking terribly entertained, "banana splitz for you both?"

"Jeez, Fredo, you're trying to kill me?" Lucas groaned, elbows planted on the table and staring at his lap, "I really can't eat another bite, I'm sorry."

"Nonsense," Alfredo scoffed, thumping his back in a friendly manner and dislodging a burp, that had Lucas whimpering and swallowing the overly sweet spit that flooded his mouth. He was a short man, with a large gut and curly white hair, "what about you, Vincenzo?"

"Not banana splitz," Vince groaned, muffling a burp on his hand and mumbling, "excuse me... I have that milk bullshit, remember?"

"Oh yes, yes," Alfredo frowned, while Lucas let out a nauseous groan and let out a small, wet belch, "pie then?"

"Uhm..." Vince grimaced, fingers digging on his stomach, "to go? Do you have pumpkin?"

"Alright, to go and pumpkin..." The old man turned to look at Lucas, "you're a little green, son..."

"Yeah, I overdid it," Lucas sighed, resting his forehead to the table, "sorry, Fredo, but no dessert for me."

"It's okay, son, another night," he said cheerfully, messing Lucas' hair and then turned around, "should I call you two a cab?"

"No, I drove us here..." Lucas groaned, although there was no way he was driving out of there, "Vin?"

"I got him, Fredo, don't worry," Vince said, his voice a little strained as he massaged his chest, since a burp had gotten stuck.

Lucas looked up, swallowing the salty spit and making a face, "can't believe you can fit a pie, Vin."

"Not now, it's for later tonight," Vince sighed, then took in a deep breath, working up a satisfying burp. Lucas gagged as he smelt the burgers all over again and ducked his head, swallowing convulsively.

"Luke?" Vince called over his head, "man, don't barf, otherwise you'll just have to make up for it tomorrow..."

"I know," Luke's voice was thick with sickness, "not gonna barf..." he wasn't so sure of it, but he was not going to be sick in Fredo's nice little dinner and cause a mess for other's to clean.

"Okay," Vince said, unsure, "let me know when you're ready to get in the car."

It took him a handful of minutes, time enough for Alfredo to return with Vince's to-go box and to pay for their meal. Finally, finally, as Vince was mindlessly nibbling away at his pumpkin pie, not feeling well enough to eat it or bad enough to put it away, Luke straightened up and cupped his mouth, letting out a deep, long belch.

"Uhm," he groaned, swallowing the sick taste back down, "okay, we can go."

Vince squinted at him, then gestured for the waiter, "Liz, can you get me a bag, please?"

Lucas couldn't even be offended, he wasn't feeling well at all. He waited until Liz came back with an empty bag and Vince took it, along with his pie, getting up with a grunt and staggering as his gravity center shifted.

"C'mere, let me help you up," Vin sighed, offering a hand to Lucas and pulling him to his feet, "try not to toss your cookies, please."

"Doing my best," Luke mumbled, getting up and basically collapsing against Vince. He muffled a burp against his best friend's shoulder and shuddered, a shiver running down his spine, "let's go."

Once they arrived to the car, Vince got in the driver's seat and threw him the bag, "keep it close, just in case."

Luke nodded, lowering his window and breathing in deeply. His stomach was churning something awful, feeling hot and bubbly. Every time he moved, he could feel his meal at the base of his throat. His pants were squeezing him, despite the fact he had pushed them down already.

Vince wasn't even attempting to talk, he was rubbing his own stomach with the hand not on the steering wheel and burping quietly, occasionally glancing his friend's way.

Lucas leaned back, closing his eyes as he felt his stomach churn again. His belly let out a sad, loud whine and Vince whistled, "that sounded nasty."

"It's so fucking upset," Luke nodded, rubbing his belly in circles. It was taut and warm to the touch. The smallest amount of pressure caused a gurgle to sneak up and he rushed to cup his mouth, thinking he was going to be sick, but it was just a wet belch.

"Lucas, use the bag," Vin poked his thigh, "c'mon, man-"

"Not gonna hurl," he mumbled, but opened the bag and hovered over it, spitting the nasty salty saliva, "not gonna lie..." he burped again, "kinda happy this is the last football season."

Vince let out a hum, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel, "I guess..." he didn't sound sad or happy, just pensive about it, "we don't have to stop playing together, right?"

"Of course not," Lucas said, then spat again, letting out a moan, "Vin, I feel disgusting."

"Do you need me to pull over?"

"I don't wanna be sick," Luke shook his head, swallowing in a bunch of times, "I can't waste the calories."

"Okay, try leaning back," Vince said, then shifted on the driver's seat, holding the steering wheel with his left hand instead of the right one. Then with his free hand he pushed Luke's shirt up and planted the large palm of his hand over the bloated belly, "try burping."

"Are you rubbing my gut?" Luke frowned, thumping on his chest to get an airy burp out. Vince shrugged, wincing when that caused his own stomach to complain.

"Wendy does that for me and it helps a lot."

"No, I know it helps." Lucas said, belching again and leaning his head closer to the window, so the wind could dissipate the horrible smell of his dinner, "it's just you doing it, that's all."

Vince paused the rubbing, raising his eyebrows, "I can stop?"

"No," Lucas groaned, pressing his hand back down, "no, it's fine. It's helping a little."

And it was helping. At least the burps were coming up a little easier, although the smell and the act of burping was making him feel clammy and nauseous. He groaned as Vince hit a pothole on the road and caused his dinner to jump to his mouth. Lucas belched, wetly, and leaned over the bag, being attacked by a gagging fit.

Faintly he heard Vince apologizing and removing his hand, so he could rub his back instead and Luke moaned, spitting again, but not puking, "...fuck me," he whined, "that felt nasty."

"I'm sorry, I'm gonna watch the road," Vin sounded like he had accidentally dropped his favorite sandwich. The mental image caused Lucas to groan and burp again, spitting another mouthful of thick saliva that he knew if he swallowed back down was going to be a huge mistake.

Finally he saw Vince turn the corner of his street, passing by the decoration store they used as landmark. He was so close, he could cry.

Bell's car was parked on the front and the living room lights were on, bleeding out of the closed curtains. Lucas groaned as he realized he'd have to get up, "ugh, thanks for the ride, Vin... Keep the car, I can stop by your work tomorrow to pick it up."

"You sure?" Vince frowned, "I can get an uber home, it's okay. The dorms aren't far-"

"Nah, it's fine," Lucas sighed, rubbing his face and tugging his pants back up, "see you tomorrow for lunch...?" he belched sickly at the idea and Vince opened an amused smile.

"Don't forget to set up the alarm for your 3 AM shake."

Lucas gagged at the thought, "kill me."