#*burp* what anon ask?

[ruelpsen]

fucking someone hard enough to get the burps out really good concept. also consider fucking them slow and deep so you can rub the burps out of their stomach and reduce them to a total mess

Oh fuck is this good! I love the neediness angle that you get at too. Not just wanting, but needing someone to make you feel good in every way, coaxing those burps out from the outside and from within you. Needing to be touched, rubbed, loved on, belched, and fucked all at the same time. Needing to be reduced to a moaning, panting, burping mess with not a care in the world but the heaven of your own pleasure. Needing the orgasmic bliss of every release you're brought to, with each sensation only amplifying the pleasure of those that follow as each burp increases your arousal and the release of each orgasm allows more burps to slip out...

... Anyway, where was I?

[cowsaresushi-coral]

Crue Velvet, OC of @veganbear !

His visage has been haunting me for the past 2 years.

[yrsogross]

what if i burp in ur face n we’re both he/him lesbians..? but youd probably find being around me to be great cuz when im really comfortable with someone ill basically announce when i need to shit/piss/fart haha n plus im gassy all the time so thats a plus ig

DM me right now PLEAZE

[zarameraki]

♡🍼₊˚・₊✧ 𝘁𝗼𝗷𝗶 𝗵𝗮𝘀 𝗮 𝗯𝗿𝗲𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗳𝗲𝗲𝗱𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗸 ₊˚・🍼₊✧

: ̗̀➛ tropes: fem! reader 𖥔 mdni 𖥔 toji loves boobs

: ̗̀➛ words: 982

: ̗̀➛ notes: this was requested by anon and i did post it through the ask but I wanted to post it separately hehe. ok enjoy

Toji had an outlandish kink. 

It developed shortly after you’d given birth. You didn’t understand why he’d stare at you as you breastfeed your child. Well, he mostly stared at your breasts in his classic Toji style. 

“What?” you bit out as he continuously watched you from the kitchen. You helped your baby latch onto your nipple and stared at your husband with a defiant look. “Oh, for God’s sake, Toji. Spit it out.” 

“I want a taste.” 

“Taste of what?” 

“What that little brat is drinking.” 

Your brows hit the roof of your hairline at his bizarre request. He couldn’t be—Wow, your husband had truly outdone himself in his kinks game. “Yeah, no fucking way. This milk is strictly for our child. If you’re so eager, open the fridge and pour yourself a cup. I’m pretty sure we’ve got cookies, too. But the oatmeal ones are mine—”

“I don’t give a fuck, doll. I wanna know what your milk tastes like.”

“Toji, are you out of your fucking mind? I’m not—You’re a grown ass man. I’m not going to, I don’t know, breastfeed you.” 

“I’m not asking you to breastfeed me. I only want a little taste. I’m fucking curious, sue me.” 

You scoffed, giving a small rock to your baby as he gargled and took small breaths in between the feeding. “Toji, I love you, and I love your abnormal requests during sex, but I’m not letting you taste my milk.” 

Toji stared at you with a frown. A puppy-dog frown that melted your heart and added cracks in your defenses. He lowered his eyes and resumed washing the dishes. “I only wanted a small taste,” he mumbled in the most adorable manner. 

Growling from your throat, you folded at his request. “Fine.” 

“Really?” 

“Just—Just give me a minute.” 

Toji abandoned the dishes and quickly sat next to you, ogling your breast. “What if he drinks you dry?” 

“What if you drink me dry?” 

“I don’t mind sharing. He’s my son, too.”  

You rolled your eyes and smiled down at your baby. After a few minutes of drinking, he unlatched his mouth and you handed him off to Toji to burp him. “Wait here. I’ll go use the suction pump—”

“Fuck no. I wanna drink it straight from the source.” 

You took in a deep, aggravated breath. “Fine, you dick. Put him to sleep and meet me back here.”

A tiny part of you was intrigued by Toji’s kink, but another was scared that he would drink you dry. The man was downright obsessed with breasts since the first night you slept together. During your pregnancy, he’d lay you back on his chest and massage them with scented oils, commenting how heavy they’d gotten. It was only a matter of time his curiosity regarding your chest would grow. 

You unhooked your nursing bra and placed it aside, laying down on the couch with a groan. Toji entered minutes later and immediately covered your body with his looming figure, giving you kisses across your face for being such a kind wife. “Whatever. Hurry up so I can eat something.” 

“I’ll cook,” he said, trailing kisses down to your neck and chest. “l’m gonna finger you, too, baby.” 

You rolled your eyes with a smile. 

Toji smiled and pushed his hands down your panties, parting your folds slowly growing wetter and wetter from his heated presence. He sought out your clit like the expert he was and rubbed it with gentle circles. Your lips parted with small, soft sounding sighs, fingers running through your hair and staying there. “That feels good, doll?” 

“Mm-hmm.” 

“Yeah?” Toji pushed his middle and ring finger into your entrance. He began stimulating you with his quick thrusts. Your heels scraped up the couch’s surface, teeth clamping down on your bottom lip. 

Toji ran his coarse tongue over your right nipple. You glanced down at him and scoffed from his cheeky wink. He kissed the sensitive bud, then locked his mouth on it, pulling it in. You wrapped a leg around the back of his thighs, and your hands cupped the back of his head as he suckled on your nipple. He moaned and took laboured breaths from his nose, and when you glanced down, you found trickles of white liquid at the corner of his lips. 

“Toji, save some—”

He switched to your left nipple, leaving his fingers static inside your walls. He was too drunk on the taste of your breast milk to care about anything else. Your back arched from the sensation of him teething your nipple to produce more milk. Toji took his fingers out of your pussy and massaged your right breast. 

“Toji, that’s enough,” you breathed, using his hair to pull him away. Thankfully, he compiled and released your nipple with a pop sound, licking around his mouth to taste the last bits of your milk. “How was it?” 

Toji had to close his eyes and reel in a deep breath. “I’m gonna drink from these tits every night until they stop producing milk.” He gathered your breasts in both large palms and kissed the tips. “Gonna put a baby in you again so I don’t die of thirst.” 

You chuckled in disbelief and smacked his back. He stared lovingly at you and kissed your lips. You tasted nothing, really. “Mmm. You know, if you make me a big dinner afterwards, I’ll have more milk for our baby when he wakes up.” 

He narrowed his eyes. 

“What I’m saying is, you big buffoon, that whatever is left over now, is yours—ah!” 

You clutched to the back of his hair as he started drinking again, pulling up to sit on his lap. His strong arms stayed wrapped around your waist, mouth glued to your sore, puffy nipple. 

Sighing, you smiled and kissed the top of his head. “You’re a kinky idiot, Toji Zenin.” 

[peachesofteal]

oh the image of Simon holding Darling while Johnny holds Bee in the latest baby trap installment 🥹 I just want so much more of them just being there trying to support Darling while repenting for their mistakes, even when she fights them the whole way

🍄

Beautiful mushroom anon is referencing this.

The guys are so... annoying. Concerned. Loving. Doting. I hate them. I love them. I could write an entire fic of this angst/pining/let us help you mess. I want them showing up at every beck and call, every whim. Groveling. Crying. I want it all. (I will also probably write it all for disco baby because that's the one that's going to be a full fic.)

18+ MDNI / baby trap au / dark and mature themes

"I'm here, I've got ya." You murmur, patting Bee's back while you hold her over your shoulder, trying to bounce her just a bit, enough to get her to burp. The movements work fairly quickly, and then you're leaning back again, foot rest coming rising under your feet and tucking your giant fleece blanket up around your waist with one hand.

"Need help?" Johnny asks, and you shake your head.

"No." Be nicer, they're being super helpful. You can't help but eye him with suspicion while he smiles shyly at you, perched on the opposite end of the other couch in your living room, fingers tapping together with nervous energy.

"Do you want to try to eat some lunch?" Simon sits a tray down on the cushion beside you, a plate with a sandwich and your favorite fruits already sliced up, along with a peanut butter smoothie. He's deposited your water bottle, refilled, on the side table next to you, within arm's reach if you need it.

Bee coos with a sleepy smile, pressing her face to your chest and you blow out a breath. She's going to fall asleep on you, again.

You could give her to one of the guys...

No. Just because they come over here, and take care of you, and wait on you hand and foot, doesn't mean you forgive them.

You do not forgive them.

The peanut butter smoothie calls to you, it's perfect consistency, perfect taste something you haven't had in so long, since before you left them. You want a sip, or to just down the whole thing, you want-

A cough scrapes across the bottom of your lungs.

You turn your face away from Bee instinctively, but you're not strong enough right now to really hold her from your body, and your shoulders tense as you try to draw a breath. Fucking pneumonia. Fuck.

"Take-" you croak, and Simon reads it, scooping the baby from your arms before you start to shake with the effort of your wheezing. It makes you lightheaded, and dizzy, and your eyes blink slowly after the fit is over, trying to get your equilibrium right.

Suddenly, you're exhausted. All over again. It's frustrating, increasingly so, and your patience has run thin. It's overwhelming, and frightening, how you could have gotten this ill, and now- now you're crying.

"Oh, darling." Johnny whispers, and you shake your head.

"'m fine." you sob out a protest. Jesus Christ. You are pathetic. This is so embarrassing.

"I know ye are, I know." Neither of them move, waiting, holding their breath. They don't want to push you, don't want to encroach on your very established boundaries, so they'll wait, which is even more frustrating at times, because it feels like they're trying to draw you out, push you to your limit even if that's not what's happening. "Please, can... can I help? Do ye want to go lay down?" Johnny's inched closer now, close enough you can see the sparkling blue of his eyes, his sweet and concerned face that watches every movement you make.

The dark of your room sounds so nice, so much easier, and you nod miserably.

"Alright, come on. I've got ye." He coos, and then wraps an arm around you, plucking you from the couch like Simon plucked the baby from your arms. "Bee's right behind us." He assures, because he knows you'll flip out, and sure enough, you hear her sleepy babbles over his shoulder. "We're all just gon' have a bit of a rest, yeah?" Simon situates her in the bassinet in your room, while Johnny places you slowly onto your bed. He hovers, watching while you peel back the covers and snuggle yourself down into them, turning on your side until you can't see either of them.

The baby monitor is deposited on the pillow next to you, while Simon murmurs something about being just outside if you need them.

Whatever. You roll your eyes but something, something very small, very far away in your heart, echoes with a ping of gratitude, and you and Bee drift off for an afternoon nap.

[welcometomyoasis]

Hello, I have been thinking about how Jeonghan would react when he sees that you need to breastfeed your baby in public, they are on a train and his baby needs to be breastfed, what would Jeong han do on that occasion???

Title: What Jeonghan would do if you needed to breastfeed your baby in public

Pairing: Jeonghan x gn! reader

Genre: Fluff, reactions from asks

Warnings: Breastfeeding in public. Discussions of breasts and societal views about breastfeeding in public below the cut. Reader has no specified gender.

Hello anon! This is such a sweet scenario 🥺

I would imagine that the two of you would be sitting next together on the train. Jeonghan would be holding your baby because he is just so infatuated with your baby.

When your baby starts crying to be fed, Jeonghan would immediately reach out for the diaper bag that you have been carrying. He would coo at your baby and hand your baby over to you.

Jeonghan would help you take out the breastfeeding cover if you use one and will help you put it on as you start to breastfeed. He 100% does not care if you actually use the cover or not. Your baby needs to be fed and that is his priority. But if you say that it would make you/ baby feel better/ more comfortable, he respects that.

His eyes will be focused on you and your baby, making sure that he can reach for anything like another cloth or tissues if necessary

Heart eyes, heart eyes, heart eyes??? Because he can’t imagine that you are his partner, and that is his baby. His family. He’s always dreamt of this day and it’s finally here? He might even snap a couple of photos with your consent.

Will stroke his baby’s cheeks and continue to coo at your baby with words like “are you being fed well?”, “Be good and don’t bite!”, “have a nice meal”

Definitely the sweetest and most attentive.

Okay, but that does not mean that he is not aware of his surroundings. Jeonghan is aware that society has some really mixed views towards parents who breastfeed in public.

Obviously, you breastfeeding is going to draw some attention to you since you are in a public place. For the most part, he does not care about the stares and hushed whispers. Your baby’s needs comes first.

BUT, if he hears someone shame you for breastfeeding in public or calling it public nudity/ indecency, he will shoot that person a glare. What’s wrong with a parent who needs to feed their child? Would they rather the child starve? If these people are uncomfortable with it, then it has more to do with their preconceived notions/ sexualisations of breasts? The primary function of breasts were to make milk for the baby?

Also he will glare at others who whistle at you if they happen to catch a glimpse of your breasts. Who the hell do they think they are? Perverts.

Jeonghan has a very sharp tongue and usually will not hesitate to tear them apart with words. However, in this case he just scoffs at their comments loudly but won’t make a scene/ engage. (1) he doesn’t want to leave your side. (2) they are not worth his time. (3) it’s for the safety of your little family. Who knows what these other people would do.

Jeonghan is very in tune with your emotions though. So that means first subtly angling his body towards you even more than before, hopefully to shield you from others’ prying eyes.

If he sees you get more uncomfortable, he will get up from his seat to stand in front of you, using his tall frame to completely block you from view.

He smiles down at you and continues to put most of his attention on you and your baby.

Once your baby is done feeding, Jeonghan happily takes on the task of burping your baby so you can clean up and rest.

VERY content with how your baby falls asleep in his arms soon after.

You might want to snap a few photos of this calm moment, you know, before Jeonghan starts exclaiming loudly that your baby stinks and needs a diaper change 🤭

[anton-luvr]

can you write best friend!wonbin asking fem!reader on a date after holding his feelings for some times? thanks and congrats for 400! 🎉

# IN LOVE.

⚝ bestfriend!wonbin x fem!reader | fluff | friends 2 lovers au ⚝ note ; phew i havent posted a fic in a while,, sorry if it isn't good :( also thank u for waiting anon!! hope u like this!!! and thank u hehe

An envelope certainly wasn't the gift you were expecting from your best friend.

Nevertheless, you tried to hide your disappointment with a forced smile.

"What is it? A letter?"

Wonbin tuts at this, his long hair falling over his pretty eyes when he shakes his head.

"Just open it," he says softly, smiling. "Trust me."

You listen to the boy, tearing at the end to reveal a colorful piece of card paper.

'To the place where we first met, music loud while we drank out of cups that were red.' it read, and you can't help but laugh at his attempt at poetry.

"That's a very creative way to describe Shotaro's parties." you tease, chuckling as he scoffs and leads you to his car.

"Hey, it took me a really long time to think of that," he protested, opening the passenger door for you. "And congrats! You got the first clue correct."

You realize what this was all about as he starts to drive towards Shotaro's house, gasping in surprise.

"Is this a scavenger hunt?" you asked excitedly, waving the colorful card.

Wonbin nods, grinning at your reaction.

Anticipation and curiosity for what he had in store for you builds up in your chest as he pulls up to Shotaro's driveway, and you hop off the car to look for the next clue immediately - which was pretty easy, because Wonbin was terrible at hiding things.

"Found it!" you sang out cheerily, picking up the second brown envelope out of the bushes.

"To the place where Zuckerberg works, laughing over our food and our burps." it read, and your eyes light up at the mention of the CEO.

"The restaurant down the street!" you guessed enthusiastically.

It was one of your favorite places to eat at with Wonbin, the waiter there who looked exactly like Mark Zuckerberg always making the both of you giggle.

It took less than ten minutes to get to the restaurant, and you could see the third brown envelope before Wonbin even put the car into park.

After taking it down from the advertising posters, you tore it open.

"To the place where no one else could bother us, with stars and cold autumn gusts."

You smile at this, already knowing the place.

It was the park, a comforting refuge for the both of you to talk about anything and everything.

From teary, midnight conversations about personal struggles and worries to delirious conversations about stupid jokes and silly memes after classes, it was always your go-to place to take a breather from the hectic mess of life.

So the park was exactly where you went next, and unbeknownst to you, Wonbin was sweating bullets.

With each step you took closer to the park, the faster his heart raced.

He had been planning this for weeks, practicing and rewriting poetry for his clue cards and making sure everything was something you liked - including the surprise later on.

"Where's the next envelope?" you ask, snapping him out of his nervous trance.

Wonbin coughs, putting on a calm demeanour.

"I don't know," he lies, shrugging with a mischievous smile. "Maybe it's by the lake, maybe it's by the bridge, or maybe it's by the playground. It's up to you to find out."

You jokingly huff at this, tugging him after you by the arm as you ran towards the bridge.

It was where the both of you always stood by while talking, gazing at the stars at night and watching the reflection of the moon over the shimmering lake.

"You know, this game is too easy." you boasted as you made your way over. "I could guess these places almost immediately."

But your boast doesn't last long when you notice a trail of flower petals on the ground, voice dying down as you followed each one up to the bridge.

The wood creaked underneath your feet as you reached the centre of the bridge, just to find...

Nothing.

There was no envelope, no gift, no box - nothing.

"'Bin, where's the next envelope?" you asked, turning around in confusion.

And when you do just so, everything fades away into silence.

"Happy birthday!" he beams, suddenly holding a huge bouquet of your favorite flowers from god-knows-where.

Your jaw falls open and closes shut just to fall open again, at a complete loss of words.

But you didn't have to worry much longer about what to say next, because Wonbin beats you to it.

"I've been wanting to ask you this for a really long time, so here goes nothing." he stutters, face reddening as he took a quick deep breath.

"Y/N, I'm in love with you." he admits slowly and bashfully, his shining eyes gazing right into yours.

"I'm in love with the way you smile, the way you laugh, the way you talk. The way you're always so loving to the people around you, the way you always see the good in life. I'm in love with you when we're drunk at three in the morning and you're throwing up in my bathroom, and I'm in love with you when we're driving down the highway with the windows down and music at full blast. I'm in love with you now, and I always will be."

Your heart hammers in your chest as he gets closer to you, so close that his golden star necklace was dangling right in front of your face.

"Will you give me a chance and go out with me?"

His words echo through your blank mind, but you already knew your answer.

There was no one else in the world who understood you the way Wonbin did, and you had always waited for a day like this - a day where the both of you could start calling each other mine.

"Yes," you giggled, gently taking the flowers out of his hands. "I'll definitely go out with you."

Wonbin lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding, relief and joy washing over him.

"Thank you." he says softly, slipping his hands into yours and squeezing them.

"No, thank you." you repeat, smiling as you wrap your arms around him. "This is the best thing I could ever ask for."

He's used to hugging you, but this one felt different.

He could feel the love radiating off of your body, your hearts racing against each other's.

"You're the best thing I could ever ask for." he whispers.

© anton-luvr, 2023.

taglist: @wonbons @mxlly143 @keehobaldboy @shawyle @yenart @lycheecheeseyogurt (drop an ask to be tagged! + tags in bold couldn't be tagged)

[bellysoupset]

I would love to see Leo and Jonah sick at the same time ^^

maybe one of them has food posioning and the other has been hiding some sort of stomach bug for a while that happens to show it’s face then?

if not that’s fine but would really like to see this!

-🪼

(First time submitting an ask :D)

This was sent before you switched to the 🧋anon tag.

Also requested by @vdoggg!

Food Poisoning - Part 3.

A continuation of Leo's birthday fic. Read part 1 here. Part 2 here.

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

Leo was lying on the bed, curled up and trying to make sense if he was about to puke again, when he heard the front door opening. JD lifted up her head from where she had been happily kneading his thigh and he breathed out.

“It’s just Jon,” Leo grumbled, not moving a muscle. Jonah hadn’t texted him, but Leo had enough sense to figure out who had eaten the missing cupcakes and why he was back earlier than usual. 

As if to confirm his point, he heard hurried steps and then the noise of liquid hitting liquid and Jonah’s signature loud burp down the hall, as he probably burst into the guest bathroom. Leo sighed, forcing himself to sit up and waiting a second as the room spun around him. 

He had originally thought it was a simple overeating bellyache, even when he puked again as they arrived home, chalking that up to the vestiges of nausea and carsickness. Halfway through the night though, while Jonah was peacefully asleep, Leo was wrecked by the cramps in his lower belly and had given up on that notion as the runs hit him.

Leo felt mildly guilty he hadn’t been awake enough that morning to warn Jonah this was definitely food poisoning, then maybe his fiancee wouldn’t have eaten the cupcakes.

Grabbing on the walls to keep himself upright, Leo made his slow track down the hall and sighed as he found exactly what he had predicted. Jonah curled up in front of the toilet, hugging the bowl with arms, his shoulders hitching with a retch.

“Shit,” Leo sighed, slumping against the door and taking a deep breath to steady himself, “I’m sorry, Jon.”

A burp answered him, followed by more liquid splashing and then a pitiful whimper. Leo slowly entered the bathroom, which was much too small for the two men, and sat down on the cold ground, planting a hand on his fiance’s back. 

He didn’t have the energy to rub, but Jonah didn’t seem to mind. After a couple minutes the other man finished coughing and raised a shaky hand to flush the toilet, so Leo grabbed a bunch of toilet paper and passed it to him. He heard Jon blow his nose, then flush again and finally he turned to look at Leo. 

Leo cringed, his boyfriend looked damn near gray and his lips were a terrible pale shade. He had sweat beading all over his face, gluing his curls down to his temples, “Jon, are you-”

“Threw up- threw up in front of a patient,” Jonah informed him, in a little strangled voice. He closed his eyes, as if wincing at the memory, “I really don’t feel good.”

“I know,” Leo said truthfully, scooting closer. He couldn’t emphasize enough how much he understood Jon’s plight, given that just walking the short distance between their bedroom and the guest bathroom had caused his nausea to increase all over again, “I’m really sorry, Jon.”

“Not your fault,” Jonah groaned, turning to the toilet once more and spitting in it, planting a hand on his chest and massaging a burp up, “fuck…”

Leo tipped his head back against the cold tiles of the bathroom, trying to ignore the angry gurgling of his belly and how he felt like acid was crawling up his throat. He took a measured breath, gulping down, then startled as he felt a hand touching him.

Jonah let out a small snort at his jerkiness and Leo frowned, taking a second to realize Jonah was checking his vitals. He was being gentle, but the slight pressure on his Adam's apple was not helping Leo gulp down the nausea, so he pulled back.

“What are you doing…?”

“You’re really, really pale,” Jon frowned at him, “when did you last drink water?”

“You’re the one throwing up,” Leo pointed out with a pout, bringing his knees up to his chest, “are you done?”

Jonah shrugged, not reassuring him in the least, “I’m fine,” he said, using the toilet to pull himself up and then promptly leaning over the sink with a deafening retch. Leo scoffed, dizzily rubbing Jon’s thigh since he didn’t feel like he could get up now that he had sat down.

‘You’re fine, uh?”

A wet burp, followed by Jonah letting out a groan and wrapping an arm around his stomach… Then whimpering, “oh no,” and bent on the middle, clutching his belly. Leo raised his eyebrows.

“Jon…?”

“You need- I need you to get out,” Jonah groaned through clenched teeth, “now.”

“What… Why?” Leo tried to pull himself up, only to find that he really couldn’t and Jonah whimpered again.

“Fuck, Leo, I’m gonna shit my pants, get out-”

“I’m trying!” The blonde exclaimed, darting out a hand and grabbing the bathroom sink, in order to pull himself up, since his fiancee was of no help at all. On the contrary, Jonah seemed to have tuned him out, too preoccupied with the sour state of his intestines. 

“Leo…”

“I’m-I’m go-” Leo didn’t finish his sentence, because being upright so quickly caused his head to swim, so instead of leaving the bathroom, he clutched the granite of the sink for dear life, breathing through his mouth, ears ringing and black spots dancing in front of his eyes. The queasiness that had been on the back burner until then, jumped up tenfold and Leo couldn’t do anything as he leaned forward and brought up a gush of pale yellow vomit in the basin.

Vaguely he heard Jonah groan and then the noise of his boyfriend falling sit on the toilet, sickness overriding any modesty.

Leo coughed, gasping for air and still white knuckling the sink. It felt like his head was floating. He gagged once more as he heard the noise of Jonah’s intestines emptying out and his fiancee let out a humiliated whine.

“I’m sorry, this is so gross, I-” Jonah all but whimpered, a sound so alien in his voice that it made Leo snap slightly back in reality. 

He shook his head, opening the tap and washing away the vomit, before washing his mouth and forcing up a small burp. Leo hung over the sink, unsure if his belly was done with him. 

“Jon?” he called after a minute, splashing some water on his face to try to get rid of the woozy sensation that he was about to pass out. 

A cough answered him and Leo turned to look at his boyfriend, then groaned in sympathy. Jonah had grabbed the bin and planted it on his lap, as his own stomach joined his body’s attempt at purging. 

“Aww angel,” Leo stumbled slightly forward, planting a hand on Jonah’s shoulder and squeezing his nape, “get it up, worst is almost over…”

Jonah’s whole body lurched with a big belch, that brought up another large wave of vomit inside their bathroom bin. Leo brought up a fist to his mouth and muffled a gag, turning his face away. He wasn’t one to get sympathy sick, but this was a gruesome sight when his stomach was already so upset.

He looked up at the ceiling, waiting until Jonah stopped heaving, then dared to glance down as the other man rasped out, “I’m done… I think I’m done…”

“Let me take this,” Leo took a forceful breath and retrieved the bin from Jonah’s hand, planting it on top of the sink and tying the trashbag, “do you need help…?”

“I’d rather die,” Jonah scoffed, wrapping both arms around his stomach and rocking softly, “bloody hell, Leo, it was just… Just two cupcakes, how the hell-”

“I don’t know,” Leo rubbed his face, frustrated, then grabbed the trashbag and fortified himself for the journey of getting out of the bathroom so Jon could get up and shower, “I’m going… I’m gonna give you some privacy. But I’m gonna leave the door open, okay?”

Not that he really could do anything in case Jonah slipped and fell in the shower, considering Leo was barely holding his own weight up. Jon was graceful enough not to mention it, though Leo wasn’t sure his boyfriend was even listening. Instead he was taking little rapid breaths, a sickly little burp sneaking up on him.

“Babe?”

“Bin-” Jonah’s voice was thick with nausea, “Leo- Gimme-”

Leo quickly pulled the tied trashbag out of the bin and passed the empty bucket back to Jonah, thankful that it wasn’t a hollowed out metal bucket like others they had in the house. Jon leaned over it immediately, barely retching before liquid sprayed from his mouth, then his back arched with a more violent heave. 

“Jesus,” Leo whispered, starting to panic. This was quite violent and he hated that he couldn’t help as much as he wanted to. His legs were shaking and his own tummy was squeezing and cramping, intestines building a riot inside of him. Leo ignored the horrible sensation of his body revolting against him, in order to plant a shaky hand on Jonah’s shoulder and keep him from falling off the toilet. 

After what felt like an eternity, Jonah planted the bin on the ground and his elbows on his knees, groaning, “fuck…” 

Leo squeezed his shoulder, “I’m- Uhm- Are you-you done…?” 

Jon’s head snapped up and he frowned at Leo’s sluggish sentences. Even exhausted and wrung dry, he hadn’t been losing liquids for as long as the other man had and was more alert. 

“Leo, sit down,” he bossed and Leo shook his head, sweat breaking on his forehead and gluing his shirt down. 

“Can’t- Don’t feel well…” He forced the words out, “are you okay…?”

“I’m fine,” Jonah stressed, “please, can you just sit down for a minute? I just need to shower-”

Leo nodded, then stumbled back and sat on the threshold between the bathroom and the hallway, whole body going down as if he was a broken doll. Jonah felt the start of panic prickling him, running his options through his mind. 

Despite wanting to stay under the hot water for the rest of the day, Jon forced himself to keep the shower to only a minute, wrapping a towel around his hip and ignoring the way his belly was grumbling and whining all over again. He couldn’t even understand how he wasn’t empty yet. 

Leo was in the exact same spot, he hadn't moved a muscle. Jonah crouched down, touching his fiance’s pale, slack face and hating the way he could feel Leo’s rapid heart beat. 

“You’ve been puking since yesterday, this isn’t good,” Jon sighed, patting Leo’s cheeks, “baby, open your eyes.”

“Gon’besick,” Leo groaned, instead of obeying and Jonah jerked back just in time to avoid getting his arm coated in vomit, as Leo’s head hung and bright yellow bile splashed on his shirt. 

Jonah groaned, sympathy sickness making his stomach squeeze and he didn’t have it in him to fight it, he turned his head and gagged. It took forever for his stomach to settle and he could feel Leo was still dry heaving, even without looking. 

“We need help,” Jonah said, forcing himself to look at the mess and deciding there was no way he could handle this alone, when his body was hellbent on getting ready of any fluid he had ever consumed. 

Leo let out a little whimper as an answer and Jonah made up his mind.

—------------

“Christ,” Luke’s voice was much too loud in their quiet apartment and Jon jerked from the small nap he was taking in the middle of the hallway. He had managed to strip Leo out of his ruined shirt and changed into boxers himself instead of only a towel, but that was it. Moving Leo had been out of the question. 

“Leo first,” Jonah opened his eyes, his head was pounding from all the heaving and coughing, “I think he needs a hospital…” 

Lucas didn’t argue, crouching down in front of them and touching Leo’s cheeks, patting them softly, “Leo. Leo, hey-” he shook him a little harder, until the blonde let out a groan and opened his eyes. His face immediately twisted into a frown, the cramps hitting him now that he was awake.

“Luke…?” Leo groaned, curling up as much as he could, but Lucas was having none of it. He forced the other man to open up and threw an arm around his neck. 

“C’mon,” Luke’s voice came out strained as he managed to pull Leo up on his feet, “couch with you. You need to drink something.”

“Gonna… Gonna go right through-” Leo groaned, his head lolling and he pressed his nose to Luke’s neck, “won’tssstay down- Where’s Jon?”

“He’s fine,” Lucas managed to plant Leo on the couch, then grabbed some cushions and planted them under Leo’s legs, “I brought stuff.”

“What did you bring…?” Jonah tried to get up from the hallway, only to find that he was much weaker than he thought. His face burned with embarrassment as he too had to be hugged by Luke and pulled up. 

“Everything the drugstore would sell me without a prescription,” Luke huffed, planting Jonah in the opposite couch to Leo’s and then heading to the door in order to retrieve his grocery bag. He put it down on the coffee table, then removed a gatorade bottle, and five different medicine bottles. 

“Here,” Luke handed Jonah two different pills and a bottle of gatorade, “try holding these down.”

“Where’s JD?” Leo whispered from the other couch. He had curled up as much as he could and Jonah winced at the sight of him, throwing Lucas a panicked glance. He didn’t like at all the shade of white Leo had reached.

“What?” Luke asked, walking closer. For Leo he opened the gatorade bottle and stuck a straw inside of it.

The blonde made a face as the straw was pressed to his lips, trying to move away, “she must be starving…”

“I’ll look for JD in a minute,” Lucas ushered him closer, “just one sip, Leo. If you can’t then we’re gonna go to the hospital.”

The vague threat worked, because Leo finally took a gulp. Jonah watched him anxiously, already so familiar with the way his boyfriend worked that he fully expected to see the drink come up within seconds. When that didn’t happen, he allowed himself to fully collapse against the couch’s cushions. 

“How long has this been going on?” Lucas’ voice was distant, followed by a meow and then his footsteps. JD meowing louder. Jonah turned his head, fighting valiantly the urge to go to sleep and scoffed as he saw Luke clutching JD in his hands. 

“Don’t squeeze her like that,” he glared at the other man, while from the opposite couch Leo let out a pained groan. 

“Luke-” It was a whimper, and then Lucas dropped JD and lurched just in time to catch the mouthful of gatorade in the crumpled groceries paperbag. Jonah squeezed his eyes to avoid looking at the mess, feeling even worse that he was so useless. 

His own stomach churned uneasily and Jonah rolled on his side, focusing on breathing in and out and not on how awful he felt that he couldn’t be of any comfort or help as Leo continued to dry heave. 

“Fuck,” Lucas said and Jonah dared to open his eyes. Leo had fallen against their friend, white as a corpse, and not even fighting it as Luke wiped his lips with his thumb, puke be damned. 

“Hospital,” Jonah bossed, even dizzy as he was, “take him.”

“Yeah,” Luke nodded, carefully pushing Leo against the couch’s back, “Bella is coming over, she just stopped to buy us food. We’ll wait for her.” 

“Nooo-” Jonah shook his head, then his stomach clenched violently and he gagged, but all that fell on the floor was a clear line of spit, “don’t-”

“I’m not leaving you alone,” Lucas said harshly, crossing the room and forcing Jonah to sit up correctly, then grabbing a bucket and pushing it on his lap, “and Leo’s not gonna die in the fifteen minutes it’ll take her to get here. Chill.”

“Can’t…” Jonah mumbled miserably, too tired to hide how raw he felt, when Leo was this sick. He felt like crying and probably would have, if he wasn’t so dehydrated, “can’t chill.”

Luke’s frown softened up, replaced by all concern and sympathy and he crouched down in front of Jonah, grabbing the gatorade bottle once more, ‘yeah, I know, man. But I’m looking out for both of you. You trust me?”

Jon hesitated, then nodded, refusing to meet Luke’s eyes and the other man pushed the cold bottle in his hand, “take another sip. Bell is nearly here, I’m going to pack Leo a bag.”

True to what Luke had said, not more than ten minutes later, Bella entered the apartment. She was carrying another set of groceries and in true pragmatic fashion didn’t spare them even a look, heading straight to the kitchen to empty their fridge of the possibly tainted food and repack it. 

“Okay,” Luke walked back to Leo, with a backpack around his shoulder, “let’s go, Leo.”

“Jonah…” Leo mumbled dizzily, burying his face in Luke’s chest, “Jon’s sick too-”

“I know, but he’s in better shape than you,” Luke grunted, pulling Leo up and stumbling a little, “Bell will stay here to keep him company.” 

“JD-”

“She’s fine,” Bella said softly, rushing ahead to open the door for them and picking up the cat when she tried to sneak past her legs. The woman held up the kitten so Leo could see it and he blinked blearily, clearly feeling too awful to string things together. 

“She’s hungry…”

“I’ll feed her,” Bella vowed and Luke huffed, tightening up his hold on Leo as the blonde started to slip down. 

“Everything is fine here, we’re gonna be back in no time,” Luke promised, dragging him away. Finally they were alone, Jonah and Bella, and Jon let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He curled up even more on the couch and almost smiled when JD jumped from Bell’s arms to come pester him.

“That’s some food poisoning,” Bell wrinkled her nose, walking closer, “how you holding up, Jon?”

“Not well,” Jonah leaned his head against the couch’s arm. He didn’t say it out loud, but he felt an immense relief at knowing Leo was on his way to getting fluids. He didn’t think he needed to say anything to Bell, she always seemed to just know.

“Did you throw up the meds?”

“Nope,” he planted a hand on his unsettled, bloated stomach, “but I might.” 

“Well, try not to,” Bella rolled her eyes, then dangled her fingers for JD, “pspspsps, let’s have dinner, poor thing. You must be starving.”

Jonah stayed quiet as he heard Bella move around in the kitchen, serving JD her food and sorting through the mess. He continued to sip on his gatorade, only to find that had been a mistake when a sharp burp brought up a splash of acidic liquid to his throat. 

“Fuck me,” Jon groaned, curling up and trying to massage the burps out of his belly before he ended up wasting all the hard work to keep down his meds. 

“Don’t do that,” Bella circled the coffee table, holding a tall mug filled with coffee for herself. She unceremoniously pushed his leg to the side so they could share the couch and leaned in, slapping Jonah’s hand away from his belly, “let me.”

“Bella…” Jonah’s face burned with embarrassment, which got even worse when she pressed her fingers against his sloshy, bloated belly and it immediately caused a sick burp to erupt.

Bell rolled her eyes, smirking at him, “relax, I promise I’m not gonna tell anyone.”

Jon scoffed, cupping his mouth and belching again, his throat aching with the force behind it, “please.”

“Maybe just Leo,” Bella grinned, sliding her hand over the curve of his sick belly and chuckling when Jonah let out a groan at her threat. 

[bellyasks]

thankyouuuuuu so much 2 the anon whos enabling my nonsense by sending more emojissss (i split them up bc there were so many will have the rest up soon) random emoji ask game part whatever

😳 Is there anybody in your character's life who blushes at the sight of their belly? Maybe somebody who can't help but stare? Perhaps even somebody who just can't keep their hands off it? How does your character feel about that?

🫥 How easily embarrassed by their tummy is your character? Would a rumble or a burp have them blushing? What about a very noticeable bloat, or even a wardrobe malfunction? Has there ever been a time when their belly did something that made them want to disappear? Or are they fully unfazed by even the most attention-drawing slips?

🩺 Does your character listen to their belly when it tells them they're hungry/full, or do they ignore it?

🌝 Does your character enjoy being full? How does it make them feel, physically, emotionally, etc? What about when they're a little too full, or even uncomfortably stuffed?

💥 Your character's poor tummy is just about on the verge of bursting. How much did it take to get them there? A lot of food? A little? Are there any particular instances they could recall where they've felt like this?

🫳 How does your character feel about having their belly rubbed? Will they ask for it? How do they respond when it happens? Are they particular about who touches their belly, if anybody?

🍄 Has your character ever gotten sick by eating something they shouldn't have? What happened? Was anybody there to help them?

🌡️ How does your character like to be treated when they're not feeling good, particularly with an upset tummy? Do they want to be left alone, or do they want to be fussed over? Who would they like to have caring for them?

🌶️ Does spicy food bother your character's belly at all? Does it leave them feeling bloated or with an upset stomach, or even just give them hiccups? If so, do they try to avoid it, or do they take the risk?

🎡 Does your character ever feel motion sick? Do wild amusement park rides upset their belly? What about planes or cars? Do they try to avoid these things? How do they cope?

🔊 How noisy is your character's belly? Is it noisy only under specific circumstances? Do others tend to notice it, or is it more subtle?

☣️ Are there any particular foods that really upset your character's belly? How does it affect them? Do they make an effort to avoid it? If not, how frequently do they eat it?

[richeeduvie]

thank you genius anon for the roman summer house ask. but also richee can you elaborate on this time that roman came out from under the table while drunk… curious to know if he did that for the reason I think he did

"That tickles. Jesus fuck-!"

"I'm not even licking anythi-"

Roman's not. He just finds the inside of your thighs quite comfortable. And your skin smells good. Like really good, it's whatever body wash you're using.

Sometimes, it doesn't feel that taboo to want to peel bits of you off. If he could put you back together without any pain, he would.

"Someone's coming. Just shh."

He rolls his eyes, but his heart feels like the way his mouth purses when he hears it's Kendall.

Roman understands his jealousy. Not very fucking well, but he knows that it's just not right whenever you talk to people. It doesn't even have to be other boys that Roman's sure they want you naked and nippled and for them, it's just...anyone. It's Kendall, but Kendall's a fucking freak. It's Shiv and every adult adult who takes time away from him. It's school and it's movies that distract you.

Maybe it's fucking pathetic? Roman doesn't it. It's not right because it makes him feel sick and small.

And Kendall just keeps yapping. You're too nice to everyone, like it's your job. It's especially peevy when you make it so Kendall's comfortable.

You won't admit it - Kendall won't even admit it, but the brotherly fucker wants you so badly. It's gross. And you should pretty much have the understanding that you don't do well with other people. Just him, even when he's mean. Sorry.

"So, I was just thinking about...you ever hear of go-karting?"

"Jesus fuck."

Roman cringes and lazily comes up from your legs. Not air, cause that would mean he wouldn't be taking in your mouth whole.

"...Roman-"

"You taste like cake. Yum. Hi, Ken." He furrows his brows, looking down. "Close your legs, you don't want to look slutty in front of my brother."

And Roman tries not to wear a stupid-born smile when Kendall just stares, all the confidence and shitty banter gone now that he's here. And his mouth was just on your crotch. That doesn't need to be said between the three of you.

"Do you - do you guys do that al-all the time? What the fuck? That's not cool, dude."

"Why are you pushing this on me? What if she wanted me down in the trenches."

"...Are you-" You hiccup. Roman fixes your hair. "Is my vagina the trench?"

"It's like - take it as a fucking compliment. Wet, narrow....I'm the only one up in there, right?"

"Don't fucking...Roman. Both of you, what if Dad saw?"

"He wouldn't have?"

Roman scratches behind his ear. He can see a purposeful, slight shake of his brother's body.

"What? Cause you wouldn't have made the fucking effort to come up?"

"Why does it bother you so much? It would've only bothered Dad cause it's just more proof that I am his disappointment baby. A vat of unprofessionalism."

Roman knows why Kendall looks so strangled by the way he came up from under the table, why he still looks tense as he throws his legs over you. You look heated. It makes Roman smile.

He knows why even if Kendall never admits it. Maybe he'll get over you like a normal fucking person. But Roman's selfish as much as he is someone that loves his brother. He deserves a bit of tense nerves, his own amount of jealousy because he's not even suppose to be jealous in the first place.

Roman burps and presses a thumb into your hand.

"Go away, Kendall. You have Stewy cock to make you feel better. About what? I don't think either of us have a clue."

He drags out the word clue and stares into your skin, a low head looking down.

Don't give her that fucking look, bitch.

He looks at your guilted face like you've vomited on his shoe.

"Don't tell me you actually feel embarrassed and bad about it."

"You should've waited."

"Oowee, let's spare Ken's feelings. What feelings am I sparing by making the effort to not remind him that I'm inside you at all times?"

When you don't respond, the casual and sickly humor turns red in Roman. He stares.

"What feelings?"

But he's weak, it never takes much and it takes nothing when he's drank a lot. Like a softy, touchy little hand holding his.

"Wanna pick a movie?"

"...It's gonna be a super dirty movie. The most visible pussy and dick you've ever witnessed."

"You had a panic attack watching the first fifteen minutes of boogie nights and we had to put on the beauty and the bea-"

Roman's heart picks up. Why would you ever bring that up?

"You didn't make that moment feel like something you were gonna fucking laugh at me for."

"I'm not laughing, I'm just saying...do you think you'd get like that if you watched us on camera?"

He blinks.

"Have you been fucking recording us?"

"No! I was just wondering."

"You're not good at that. Fucking Jesus."

"Where are you going?"

Back down. Where it's easier to breathe.

[ruelpsen]

Hey, m*sturbating anon again (that sounds so weird out of context lol). Honestly dude, mutual m*sturbation while burping is my top fantasy. Whether imagining two fictional characters doing it or me doing it with someone I absolutely love it lol. Sometimes I like to imagine two characters having phone s*x but they get off to each others' burps as well as dirty talk, or two characters deciding to m*sturbate together because they're too tired to have s*x and end up lazily burping and touching themselves. Honestly if I could burp on command I would probably do this so much, it's such a big fantasy of mine. Hearing that you like to do it too is so hot, genuinely. Do you have any fantasies involving this kind of thing? If you're comfortable sharing of course

Oh man am I always down to share some fantasizing! I fucking love the phone sex one, and honestly that helped me figure out a new fantasy of mine: someone sending their partner voice messages of them burping, fully aware that the receiving partner is in the middle of something, like maybe a work meeting. Of course they give in and slip away to somewhere more private to give them a listen, sending clips back to their partner of their own burps and moans for their wonderfully naughty partner to get off to in return.

I love the 'too lazy to fuck but still horny and burpy' one too holy fuck. I am literally squirming rn just thinking about it. 🥴

[slippinmickeys]

Fic prompt - Scully goes on a date with the Perfect guy. Mulder is angry, decides to go to a bar to find a one night stand. He just gets drunk and TLG bring him home where... He finds Scully sleeping on his bed

I started this forever ago, but could never really get it to flow and didn’t know how to end it. Reading through it now… it’s a little uneven, has not so much as whispered in a beta’s ear, but I kind of like where I left off and… I have so many unfinished works sitting in docs I’m letting this one fly free. Thanks for the prompt so long ago, Anon.

Dale. The guy’s fucking name was Dale. Who named their kid Dale, anyway? Perfect smile, perfect teeth, perfectly coiffed hair, polite, a doctor, and so damned charming that even Mulder had trouble not liking him.

He had a sailboat. He was taking Scully out on it. He was somehow more Vineyard than Mulder himself – a guy from fucking Chilmark. And Scully was eating it up. She was excited about the date, had been talking about it all day, ad nauseum. Well, he was pretty sure she had. He’d had to tune her out for his own mental well-being.

You’d drink, too, he’d said, maybe out loud, and it took him a moment to register the warm hand that clapped his back, the presence next to his barstool.

“I know, buddy,” Frohike said, eyebrows like caterpillars crawling across his brow, his hand squeezing Mulder’s shoulder.

“Frohike?” Mulder asked, surprised as all hell to see his friend standing there.

“Thanks, Nadine,” Frohike said to the barmaid, who handed over Mulder’s cell phone and credit card, both of which Frohike slipped into Mulder’s sport coat pocket. “Let’s get you home.”

Mulder stood woozily, and the older man had to occasionally correct his trajectory as he stumbled past the billiard tables that Casey had pulled three booths to squeeze into the back room of the bar.

The Vanagon was idling out front, Byers behind the wheel. Langly was riding shotgun, rubbernecking out the window and snapping a tight knot of green gum. The valet looked pissed and said something to Frohike that Mulder couldn’t make out as the little hacker tried to maneuver the much taller man through the open door.

“Keep your pants on, key jockey!” Frohike clapped back as he slid the big door closed. Mulder slumped against the window, miserable, sliding down the vinyl seat as Byers pulled away from the curb.

“What happened?” Langly asked, turning around and peering at Mulder through smudged glasses.

“Scully’s on a date,” Frohike said carefully. Byers’ eyes flicked to Mulder’s in the rearview, but he said nothing.

Langly nodded knowingly. “She been dickmatized? Is this dude some kind of punk?”

“No,” Mulder burped, righting himself in the seat as the contents of his stomach sloshed. “He’s actually a really nice guy.” He directed his comment to Langly’s second question, adamantly refusing to acknowledge his first.

“Let’s just get Mulder back to headquarters,” Frohike said, glaring at Langly. “Let him sleep it off.”

Mulder grabbed onto the side of the van as his head began to spin, and the thought of sleeping on the guys’ lumpy couch surrounded by the close-quarters smell of hot circuitry and day-old nachos triggered a violent urge to propel the contents of his stomach out the window beside him. He took a deep breath and steeled himself.

“No!” he burped again. “Take me home please.”

When Byers’ took the exit for Old Town, Mulder unclenched, and that’s when the urge to puke turned into a biological inevitability.

The look on his face must have conveyed some real urgency, because the next thing he knew, the van had swung over to a curb and Frohike already had the door open. He fell to his knees on the floor of the Volkswagen and hurled an arc of vomit onto the sidewalk outside the van.

“Whoa,” he heard Langly’s nasally voice pipe up when his coughing and gagging had died down considerably. “That’s some serious upchucking. I think he shot it past the fire hydrant.”

He spit once and then looked down in his hand to see a wad of Burger King napkins that Frohike had pressed into it. He mopped his face as the other man slid the sliding door closed and Byers merged back into traffic.

Mulder settled himself gingerly back onto the big bench seat.

“I feel a lot better,” he said pathetically, the sweat on his forehead cooling.

“Well you smell a lot worse,” Frohike replied, scrunching his nose in distaste.

“Bet Dale can’t hit the fire hydrant,” Mulder said.

“Dale can probably hold his liquor,” Frohike grumbled, and the puke-induced euphoria he felt withered, replaced by a humble misery. He wondered where Scully was now, if Dale had let her take the helm. He wondered how big the boat was, if it had a sleeping berth. If Dale and Scully had ever used it.

“You’d drink too, if-” Mulder started, but his words died on his tongue as it came to him what he was about to say. Out loud. To the guys.

The cab of the vehicle took on an embarrassed silence and after a long moment he looked up to find Langly reaching a hand back to him, a foil-wrapped stick of gum on offer along with a look of knowing sympathy.

Mulder took the gum with a nod of thanks and stuck the sheet of spearmint in his mouth, chasing out the taste of bile and sick and rampant jealousy.

When Byers pulled the van in front of Hegal Place, Mulder had trouble meeting anyone’s eye. Frohike was on the sidewalk waiting for him when he tipped himself out of the back of the van, sobriety duking it out with whatever liquor still swam through his bloodstream.

Frohike looked up at him with a kind and steady hand on his arm. “You want me to walk you up?” he asked.

Mulder felt around his pockets for his keys, locating them after a quick search. “No,” he said. “I got it from here.”

Frohike nodded and patted him one more time. “Put a trash can next to your bed, huh? Drink some water.”

Mulder thanked him and turned on his heel, missing the look the three guys gave each other before watching him ascend the stairs and fumble his way through the front door of his building. Eschewing the elevator and up the stairs because moving was better than standing still, down the hallway – where he’d thought he’d told her he loved her in as many words as he could, and still she went out with Dale – and through his front door. He had it bad, he realized, as he stepped through his door and into his apartment. He had it so bad that he thought he could smell a trace of her perfume – the expensive stuff she kept in her sock drawer – when he walked through the door of his own apartment. Christ.

He toed off his shoes and made immediately for the shower, catching the alleyway stench of whatever vomit hadn’t made it all the way to the sidewalk. Standing under the hot spray, he rethought some of his more recent choices.

If he were honest with himself, he’d gone to the bar tonight to pick up a woman and take her home. It had felt like a wild, righteous idea at the time, made on an indignant huff just as Scully was waving goodbye and Dale put his hand on her back to lead her through the double doors of the Hoover building. A decision made with jealousy boiling through his veins, but abandoned when he sat down at the bar and pictured another woman with her head thrown back on his sheets. Anonymous sex didn’t hold the appeal it once had for whatever reason, and he’d ordered a drink instead. And then a second, and a third and on down the line.

What would he say to Scully if she were here now, he wondered, toweling himself off. What do you see in him? That was obvious. He bent over and drank water directly from the faucet, slurping until the headache he felt coming on was assuaged. He looked at himself in the mirror. Why him and not me? He thought, and sighed, padding naked into his bedroom – not bothering to turn on the light – and sliding on a pair of pajama pants he pulled from a drawer.

He lowered himself into the bed, dejected, tired, still a little woozy, when a sound – a quick inhale of breath – sent him shooting back up to standing, heart pounding, instantly sober.

“Mulder?” came a groggy voice from the other side of his bed, and it took him a moment to reconcile his partner’s voice and its place in his dark bedroom.

“Scully?” he said, his voice sounding two octaves too high. “Jesus.”

He reached over and switched on a bedside lamp.

“I’m sorry,” she said breathily, blinking rapidly. She scooted up on the mattress and back into the pillows. Her hair was mussed and she wore a shell-shocked look. “What time is it?”

Mulder was still so surprised to see her that he couldn't put together a coherent answer. “I-what are you doing here?”

Scully looked over at him, took in his pajamas and his bare chest, his still-damp hair, and a look of profound embarrassment washed over her face.

“I’m sorry,” she said again. “I was waiting for you and then-”

Maybe Mulder wasn’t entirely sober yet, because his brain still felt absolutely befuddled. “Where’s Dale?” he asked, sounding rather like a simpleton, like he expected Dr. Dale to come sauntering into his bedroom at any moment, wearing one of Mulder’s robes, handing over a cold martini to Scully and saying ‘great bedroom for a shag, thanks for letting us use it.’

“Out on his boat, I imagine,” she said, not meeting his eye.

“But why are you not… on his boat?” Mulder lowered himself back onto the mattress, perching on the edge. “Wait, did he try something? Are you okay?” He leapt back up to standing.

“It's fine, Mulder, he didn’t do anything. I…got seasick,” she said, finally turning to look at him, a dubious, slightly jokey look on her face.

“But you don’t get seasick.” He was still standing.

She gave him a look like he was being deliberately obtuse. It started to occur to him that she was here on purpose, not because something calamitous had happened.

“But you were excited about it,” he said, lowering himself once again back to the bed. “You kept talking about it.”

“Mulder…”

“Scully?”

She thunked her head back against the headboard.

“Maybe I was hoping you’d talk me out of it.”

“You we’re hoping I’d-“ his heart soared momentarily, a bird taking flight. And then it fell out of the sky.

“Where have you been?” Scully asked, head tilted to look at him, her brow creasing, eyes narrowed.

“I was… at a bar.”

“Oh.” Her cheeks turned scarlet in the warm yellow light of the lamp and a look came over her face like a dawning realization. “Were you… there for someone?”

His life flashed before his eyes. Scully could tell when he lied to her, and he had gone to the bar with the intention of picking up a woman.

When he didn’t answer, Scully’s eyes widened and she stood suddenly. “I have made,” she said, looking around as if for a purse or a set of keys, “an appalling miscalculation.”

Mulder wasn’t sure if she was talking to him or herself, but suddenly she was on the move, darting through his bedroom door in a rapid exodus.

“Scully wait!” he called out, following her, just hoping to catch her before she got to the door. He felt like if she went through it, there was a real chance he might never see her again. Dana Scully didn’t do embarrassment well.

But he almost stumbled into her when he reached the hallway. She had pulled up short next to his billiard ball coat rack, her nose scrunched up in a look of minor revulsion. He had left his discarded clothes and shoes in a rumpled trail from the door to his bathroom, and the fumes coming off of them were sour and unpleasant.

“Mulder, it smells like vomit.”

He doubted she could see his chagrined expression, backlit as he was by the light spilling from his bedroom, but he shrugged.

“I… may have tied one on,” he admitted.

“You went out drinking?” Her face looked like she was working on a very hard math problem. “Alone?”

“Well, the Gunmen came and got me.” While he was sure she was glad he hadn’t driven drunk, he knew that’s not what she was getting at. “I was upset,” he finally admitted.

“Upset?”

He took a hesitant step toward her, watched her eyes slowly climb up to his face the closer he got to her.

“Jealous.”

Her gaze was moving rapidly back and forth between his two eyes. “Jealous?” Her voice barely above a whisper. His stomach did a loop, like a swallow over a corn field.

“You wanted me to talk you out of your date?” She smiled and sighed, looked down and away from him. “What’s wrong with Dale?”

Her gaze climbed back up, lingering a little, he thought, on his bare chest.

“Nothing’s wrong with Dale. That’s the problem.”

Mulder reached out a hand, wanted run it through her hair, but grazed her shoulder instead.

“You looking for a fixer upper? I know at least five different-“

“Mulder,” she said, exasperated. “Shut the fuck up.”

He did so immediately.

[caspersickfanfics]

Sharing a Receptacle

For @monthofsick day 1

Prompt List | AO3 | Ask | Rules

Warnings: Vomiting (graphic), fever

Anon asked:

I see you've got a lot of Cyno and Tighnari lined up already, so I sincerely apologise for adding to that, haha! If this is something you'd like to write, I'd love to see the prompt "sharing a receptacle" for Cyno and Tighnari! Maybe it starts off with one of them being sick and the other coming to care for them, only soon enough they also catch whatever has been making the other sick. (I love fics with multiple sick characters at once!)

Tighnari wakes to his stomach cramping for what feels like the hundredth time in a handful of days. He’s coughing before his eyes are even open but fortunately, he’s taken to sleeping with his arms latched onto a trashcan. He curls around it, hacking. He needs to sit. With the storm that has taken residence in his abdomen refusing to ease, it’s impossible to tell when his stomach contents will make a reappearance. Tighnari feels hands on his back guiding him upright and his body relaxes minutely. He knows who that is.

“Nari,” Cyno says simply, unnecessarily but sweetly confirming his identity. If Tighnari were any bit more aware of his surroundings, he might notice a weight to his partner’s voice that isn’t normally there, pulling it into a slow drawl. But he doesn’t, because his coughs have turned into retches. His stomach clenches and his back arches, entirely out of his control. 

He mentally chastises himself for trying to fight what’s about to happen. Tighnari has seen this process enough times to know that it’s easier to simply accept it - he’s lived through it countless times within the past week. And yet, when bile inevitably rises in his throat, his breath still stutters with a series of shallow, panicked gasps. One last instinctive act of resistance before sick spills over his lips, splattering to the bottom of the trashcan.

It used to be lined with a plastic bag, and Tighnari realizes with dismay that this is no longer true. Cyno must have forgotten to put a new one in after the previous bout of puking. Now, Tighnari stares vacantly downwards, trying not to think about how much scrubbing it will take to clean this. He feels more ill all the same, and the sight of vomit congealing against the plastic… He pitches forward again and blearily watches as the contained mess rapidly grows.

“Guh,” Tighnari shudders, his head hanging low in the trashcan. His body is wracked with queasy shivers and chills. Tears of exertion drip from his lashes. He realizes that Cyno, who is normally quiet, has gone completely silent, and wonders if he’s walked away. Tighnari is hit with a pang of hurt, and then confusion, because that doesn’t seem likely, but his foggy mind can’t seem to come up with a different explanation.

For better or worse, he can’t ponder it further. His stomach spasms and Tighnari finds himself spewing another stream of vomit into the trashcan.

Finally, the nausea alleviates moderately. Though the thought of food still makes him woozy, he believes he can move without hurling. Tighnari’s head feels heavy, but he lifts it anyway. His whole body relaxes upon finding that Cyno is still sitting on the bed beside him. Relief, for a moment, and then he freezes.

Cyno looks almost worse than Tighnari feels. He’s wearing a miserable expression, and his hands repeatedly grip his thighs - squeeze and release, squeeze and release - needing something solid to cling to. There’s no point in asking if he’s alright. 

“Oh, Cyno,” Tighnari murmurs. He’s exhausted, but attentive ears still catch a hitching breath. Several gurgling burps follow, rolling steadily out of the other man, and white hair drapes forward to curtain his face as Cyno curls in on himself. Tighnari’s hand finds the matra’s shoulder, drawing him close with a sigh. “Come here.”

Cyno settles against Tighnari’s side heavily, as if unable to hold himself up.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles, voice slurring under the weight of nausea. His back ripples with consecutive aborted heaves and Tighnari winces and shakes his head.

“None of that. Just let it happen.”

Cyno is panting now, mouth gasping for air beneath a shaking hand. Tighnari gently pushes it out of the way. Cyno’s eyes flicker to him briefly and then squeeze shut. A pained moan escapes him. A shudder runs through the matra and it sparks something tender and protective under Tighnari's skin. He runs fingers through sweaty hair.

“Relax,” Tighnari instructs, voice firm despite his own growing queasiness. Cyno’s body immediately softens, easing towards the offered and already used trash bin. The next time his back arches, a stream of pale yellow puke spills over his lips. Tighnari catches just a glimpse, but it’s enough to bring his own nausea back in full force. He tries to ignore it. Cyno is still being ill and Tighnari wants to be there for him. While Cyno chokes on a waterfall of thick, chunky vomit, Tighnari ignores the way his skin sparks with hot and cold flashes. Shaky hands rub circles into Cyno’s heaving back and, not for the first time, Tighnari curses his sensitive ears.

They have been helpful to him in many ways throughout the years; lifesaving, even. He wouldn’t trade them, but there are moments when Tighnari wishes he could put his heightened sense of hearing on pause. He doesn’t need to hear with crystal clarity the muffled splatter of liquid against plastic. And then, louder, a wet belch and splashing noises. He tries to take a calming breath, but it only fills his nostrils with a sour, rotting scent of sickness.

“Cyno - urp - are you almost done?” Tighnari’s strength has all but left him. The only response he receives is a whimper. Then Cyno is heaving again, soupy orange stomach contents spraying from his lips.

Tighnari is not normally squeamish. Still, even he has a breaking point on a sick day.

A gut-wrenching belch rumbles through him. Tighnari tries not to jostle the man next to him, but he has little control over his body as he lurches forward to once again be violently sick. Thanks to careful positioning, most of it makes it into the bin. Having to share such a small space has taken its toll, though, because some of the sticky substance splatters onto Cyno’s hands around the trash bin. Tighnari can't even manage an apology. His head pounds and he is wracked with dry heaves, unable to contain his nausea even now that he’s empty while Cyno continues to cough up streams of bile. When at last Cyno is able to get his stomach under control, Tighnari finally pulls back, bringing his arm up to his face to cover his nose from the vile scent filling the room.

“Are you okay?” He asks, voice all but torn to shreds. Cyno looks like a wet dog, hair drenched in sweat, eyes round and watery. He nods, but speaks waveringly.

“I– I think I should move to the bathroom.” His arms are trembling around the now nearly-full and quite heavy trash bin. Tighnari eyes it with distaste and resolves to worry about it later with a firm nod. 

He is painfully aware that he’s been sick for three days now with no real sign of improvement. If, as the case seems to be, Cyno has caught his illness, they should indeed go ahead and make themselves as comfortable as possible on the cold stone floors of the cramped hotel bathroom (regardless of how absolutely repulsive the thought of moving is at the moment).

–––

Send asks here!

[stonercow]

intro post :)

first off, this is an NSFT blog!!!! MDNI!!!!!!! if you don't have an age/age range on ur account ur also not getting in!!!

DNI : usual dni stuffs, you don't support palestine/zionist, over 40, fetishizer, pro ana/ed, no age, under 18, don't respect my disability/my limits that come with it, treat me like a sex toy, are fatphobic/disrespectful abt my weight (i'm a person!!)

hello everyone!! my name is andrew (19, he/him), i'm a transmasc person who's been on t for over 2 years now. i'm here to let my testostorone urges run free as i should! (also, i use ftm tags for reach but i do not identify as such)

i'm a submissive bottom t4t queer, and i am single but not looking for anything (aroallo)!! i'm also disabled (pots, fibromyalgia) /mentally ill (autism, etc.) so if i dissapear for times that's why (i also discuss my physical issues often on here)!!

my photo tag is pb.photos if you'd like to see any photos i've posted of myself (including my face :))

messages/asks are encouraged! i love talking to anons and seeing what perverted thoughts i cause you to have <3

if you'd like to support me! my cashapp is $stonercow (no pressure!!!! all money goes towards food, weed, or sex supplies for posts) and my wishlist is linked here :3 (all buyers will get a lil shoutout and photo wearing what you buy me)

praise me here :333 (my tag i use is below as well)

my safeword is "noodle" or 🚫🚫🚫 !!!!!!!!!

things i'm into are below the cut :))

my kinks!

intox (specifically weed and sometimes alc)

overstimulation (esp w my tdick)

breeding

being dominated

prey/predator (as prey)

cockwarming

size difference

degredation (light)

praise

guided/mutual masturbation

pet play (i like being a dog and a cat hehehe)

hucow!!!!!

forced masculinzation and feminization (bimbo/himboification too ugh please)

nipple/boob play

freeuse (light)

cnc (light)

dumbification

spanking (light, ass/tdick)

catholic/religion kink stuff

prince/royalty kink

feederism (feedee not a feeder, i use it for ed recovery, looking for a feeder possibly, encouragement, intox, not actively gaining/tracking weight)

breast/stomach expansion

humiliation

pregnancy (no birth)

corruption

mommy kink

what i'm NOT into (you can still follow, just not for me :))

vomit (i'm emetophobic)

omorashi/pee play

scat

feet stuff

weapon play

detrans/misgendering

use of word rape (with me, if you use it on your blog its all good!!)

anal play

fauxcest/incest in general

using "daddy" as a title

death feederism, sloppy food eating, inmobility

unhygenic things

burping/belching

obviously i may be forgetting some but just ask me if you're curious :)

you can call me any petname (i love pretty boy, darling, and pup obviously)! if i'm uncomfy i will say, and you can call my genitals anything too, i'm very open, i prefer "tcock" and "pussy" to name a few.

claimed anon emoji's!

🦷 , 🧱 , 🦴 , 🐺 , 🤟🏻 , 🫀 , 🎸 ,💫 , 🍣 ,

the tags i use most frequently are below!! (including my photo, ask, and textpost tags!!!)

so yeah! shoot me an ask, send me a pm, tell me how to use my toys, just anything really :) i'm horny and love attention hehe

[itsscromp]

I have a request, can you do Miguel comforting a gn reader who turned 18 a few months ago and is super overwhelmed because their family is pressuring them to pick a college, know what they want to do in the future etc and it's taking a toll on their mental health? thank youuu <3

Miguel O'hara x reader

Oooh I haven't done Miguel in such a hot while now, thank you anon for breaking the drought. Word count:871

Today you were now officially 18 years old, woop de dang doo !!! you can legally vote now. You didn't have a good feeling about turning 18, it's just a number. Still, it was your birthday though, you didn't want to ruin that. So you headed downstairs to find your mom cooking your breakfast.

"There's my birthday baby !!" She smiled and kissed all over your face.

"Mom" You chuckled embarrassingly.

"Happy birthday kiddo" Your dad came up to you and bear hugged you.

"Thanks, Dad" You smiled hugging him back.

Your mom plated your breakfast and handed it to you, Yes !!! Blueberry pancakes are your favourite !!. You began to eat it up slowly, savouring the fluffiness of it all. Your mom and dad looked at each other and nodded before turning back to you.

"Y/n... We do want to talk to you about something" Your mom spoke up.

You quietly burped. "Yeah ??"

"Well, Now that you are officially 18. Your mother and and I have been talking about this for a fair while, Have you given any thought about college ??"

You looked up at them, crap, college was the last thing that was on your mind, sure you wanted to go, but for what course. which college do you want to go to ??.

"Well... yeah I thought about college, but why are we talking about it ??"

"Well... We understand that your Hero stuff is equally as important, but the school has called us a couple times saying that your studies are falling. That would reflect how you get into college" Your mother pointed out.

"Look I understand that, I am catching up though."

"Yeah but what if you want to go to NYCU ?? or Yale, or Harvard ??"

"Do you know how hard it is to get into those college's y/n ??"

"Guys slow down ok, I don't want to worry about college right now" You spoke up, slightly raising your voice. After that, the conversation was dropped.

But did they stop ??, No, they kept going, bringing by pamphlets of different colleges, and the voting registration forms. Everything that a freshly turned 18 year old needs.

It was starting to take a toll on you mentally, Plunging into a world of anxiety, You didn't want your parent's to decide your future. You wanted to decide your future. But you weren't getting your say in what or how you were feeling.

You were busy looking through another college pamphlet when your world device beeped. Oh crap you were meant to meet Miguel 30 minutes ago !! Quickly suiting up, you activated the portal to the society and met miguel.

"Your late y/n" He said in his uimpressed tone.

"I know I know, I lost track of time" You said as you put on your mask.

Miguel could see it, You looked stressed. Being your mentor *And father figure* He could pick up now the smallest of changes in you. Even during the mission you were deep and lost in thought. While the job got done without any form of hiccups whatsoever. Miguel could see that you were still lost. So once you both headed back to the base, he spoke up.

"Y/n... Qué pasa" (What's wrong)

"Nothings wrong Miguel... Why do you ask ??"

He gave you his signature really look, Yeah that wasn't gonna slide. Not with Miguel.

You took off your mask, Taking a deep breath.

"My parents... They won't stop pestering me about freaking college... They're always talking about this school and that school. Even the ones that I know I have no chance of getting into."

Miguel nodded in understanding. "Have you told them about how you feel about this subject" He said softly, walking up to you.

"I try to every damn time, but they won't go for it. I understand they're worried for my future, but I just turned 18 two months ago, and they just want back off !!!" Your fist clenched so tightly.

Miguel then took your fists and took a deep breath, encouraging you to follow along. Which you did, Slowly taking a deep breath. Relaxing.

"It's gonna be ok y/n, You know your parent's love you and want what's best for you. But with you being the now the young person you are. You are allowed to have a say. If you want to go to college, go to college, If you don't want to then don't. It's all up to you now. Only you, no one else Ok ??"

You thought for a bit and then nodded slowly, Feeling a pair of arms wrap around you. "I care about you too y/n, I really do" Miguel has always been your rock ever since you joined the society, Whatever problem you had facing. He would be their to listen and wrap an arm around you in comfort and safety.

"Thanks Miguel... Really" You started to softly smile.

To which he ruffled your hair up. "Hey come on" You chuckled.

"What, I'm not doing anything" He did it again.

Sending you in a fit of giggles. Miguel knew how to make you laugh. How to make all the stress go away, He was amazing.

Taglist: @callofdudes @fun-k-board

[the-duchess-of-domination]

I hate emetophilia in any way but i came up with this and had to share with the class (it can also actually add on to 🌸 anons brainrot too)

It's the middle of the night and you're dead asleep in bed with your boyfriend. However, your boyfriend is wide awake, being unfortunately serenaded by the sounds of his stomach going HAYWIRE. He's so bloated he looks a good four months pregnant (usually his stomach is flat with a little pouch to protect his organs at the bottom) and it's so upset. He can feel all the food he ate pushing at his skin when he puts his hand over his belly button, rubbing in circles to try and coax things to move along. The food keeps switching between trying to digest and coming up the way it went in, making your boyfriend feel even more gross and queasy than before.

And then the burps start.

They aren't huge roaring burps of trapped air. They're small wet burps, indicating that there's basically no air in his tummy and he's either gonna throw up or be in a lot of pain for a whole.

He lifts his hand off his gurgling stomach to tap your shoulder, putting his other hand on his stomach in a quick Indiana Jones type switch movement.

"You okay?" You ask him when you notice how he's grimacing and holding his stomach.

He opens his mouth to explain but only another acidic burp comes out and he groans softly. "I think I'm gonna puke..."

What happens next? Add on to this however you'd like ☺️

-🎀

any utterance of “i think I’m gonna be sick,” or even just a “i think I’m gonna—“ being cut off by a guy covering his mouth and rushing to the bathroom will always make me fold. i don’t like anything too graphic—but just the knowledge that a guy got sick like that? that a guy was feeling so sick to his stomach he had to dart off and bring it up????

men’s queasiness 💕💕💕💕