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bellysoupset · 21 days

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Sick at Home - Part 1

Part 1 of Vince's very long, no good weekend with his sister. Probably Part 1 out of 3.

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"Liv can't have sweets after five," his mother repeated, probably for the fourth time already, "and don't let Sophia puppy eye you into having her friends over, she's grounded until college."

Vince snorted at that, helping his dad bring their bags downstairs. He had known he'd be playing babysitter before his mother even requested him to, since he had taken a look at the calendar and there'd be a holiday on Monday, lining up with his parents wedding anniversary. Vin didn't mind it, he was looking forward to spending some time with his sisters.

"Alright, ma-"

His mother pushed her car keys in his had, "Babbo's prius is staying here, I don't want any of the girls on that deathtrap of yours."

"It's a bike, mamma-"

"None of you!" Magda interrupted him with a glare, "there's food in the fridge and emergency numbers-"

"Mamma," Vince grabbed his mom by her shoulders, "I've babysat a thousand times before. When Liv was a newborn, remember? I can handle them now."

His mother pouted, then sighed as Giuseppe walked back inside the house, "cab's here, amore."

"Have fun," Vin pushed his mom towards the door, straight into his father's arms, "but not too much fun, I cannot handle a third baby sister."

"Vicenzo!" Magda cried out, her whole face turning red as she entered the backseat. His dad let out a snort, pulling Vince into a hug.

"I make no promises."

"Giuseppe! Don't encourage him, get inside!" The woman called, scandalized.

Vince was still chuckling as he walked back in the house. It was Friday evening and Ma and Giuseppe had chosen leaving now, instead of in the morning, to avoid Liv's possible meltdown.

He grabbed the car keys and went to pick up his sisters. Livia was only a block away, at a friend's house and she lit up like a light bulb when she saw Vin getting out of the car, instead of her father.

"Viiin! What are you doing here?"

"We're gonna have a sleepover, bambi," Vince picked her up by the armpits, throwing the girl up and causing another set of giggles. At the doorway, her little friend Ollie was waving shyly.

"Hi, Mr. Mo!"

"Hi, Ollie!" Vince waved at her, "are your mom or dad home?"

"MOMMY!"

A minute later the woman appeared behind her daughter, face all red and holding a dishcloth, stammering, "Hi Giu- Oh, hi, Vince!" she opened a huge smile, blushing even more, "sorry about the mess, home's chaos- Liv can stay for dinner if you want. You too-"

"No, Mrs. Watson, it's alright, thank you," Vince smiled, kissing his sister's cheek, "she behaved?"

"Like an angel," Mrs. Watson nodded, petting her daughter's hair, "I think she'll crash in a minute, they were running around all evening."

"Liv? Crashing? Doubt it," Vince rolled his eyes, "thank you for watching them, Mrs. Watson. I'm gonna be with the girls all weekend, if you wanna send Ollie over..."

"Mommy-" the girl immediately turned around, clutching at her mom's leg in a pleading way, so Mrs. Watson snorted.

"I'll talk with David," she nodded, "you just holler if you need anything, sweetheart."

"Yes, ma'am," Vince grabbed Livia's abandoned glittery backpack and waved one last time, walking to the car. He strapped Livia in the backseat, then got in the front, "we're gonna pick up Sophia now, Liv."

"Okay," Livia yawned, causing Vince to raise his eyebrows in surprise. It was rare that his sister got tired before her bedtime, she often ran him to the ground with ease.

"Sleepy, bambi?"

She nodded, sliding slightly down on her seat, "can we have cake for dinner?"

Oh there it was, the typical Monacelli girls manipulation. Vince snorted, rolling his eyes , "No, we can't, baby, I'm sorry," he turned up the music slightly and Livia was clearly too tired to argue. She started mouthing along the lyrics of Lost In The Woods, from Frozen 2, and Vince relaxed.

Sophia was still in the school. She was head of the cheerleading team and was just finishing practice, so Vince waited in the parking lot with Liv as he watched Soph jump around with her friends, joking and laughing. It made him super nostalgic of his team days.

She jogged to them once practice was over, wiping the sweat off her forehead and momentarily forgetting her cool girl persona, as she tackled Vince into a hug.

He was stunned in silence, then squinted as Sophia pulled back, "mamma told me you're still grounded until college, so don't even try it."

Her soft smile faded and Sophia pouted, stomping her feet in a way that made her seem so much like Liv, "you're never any fun."

Vince rolled his eyes, then shoved the car keys in her hand, "I'm plenty fun. C'mon, you'll drive us home."

"Really!?" Sophia's blue eyes lit up.

"Nooo, Vinny," Livia groaned as Sophia got in the driver's side, "Soph is bad-"

"Shut up, Liv."

"You shut up!"

"Language both of you," Vince scoffed, putting on the seatbelt, "Soph, don't make me regret it."

"You're not," she was overeager to do it and Vince immediately clutched the hand rest over his head as she sped forward and nearly hit the safety guard, "SORRY!"

Behind him, Livia let out a groan.

A drive that was supposed to be 10 minutes long ended up being a good half hour and Vince was feeling more than a little carsick by the time they got home. He braced against his knees, while Sophia circled the car and Livia jumped out as well.

"Sorry..." Sophia's shoes appeared in front of him and he could hear how genuine the apology was, "I was trying to go slow..."

"Any slower and we'd still be in the parking lot," Vince rolled his eyes, straightening up and muffling a burp against his hand, "it's okay, you're learning..." he looked to the side and cringed. Livia was sporting the typical green shade his family had when nauseous, "how about you, Liv? Your tummy hurts?"

She nodded, wrapping her arms around her belly and making a small frown. Sophia let out a whine, "I didn't mean to make you sick, baby..." she crouched down in front of her sister, clearly feeling guilty.

"We'll practice your driving more during the weekend, relax," Vince messed Sophia's hair, before crouching down as well, "hey, baby-" he pushed Livia's curls away from her clammy face, "take a deep breath for me?"

It took two minutes of breathing exercises before Livia stopped hugging her stomach like something was moving inside. She was still pouting as they walked inside and refused dinner when Vince offered, opting for curling up in the living room with a sour mood that was unlike her.

"I think she's pissed," Sophia cringed, walking back downstairs thirty minutes later, wet hair creating a dark spot in her sweater, "so, Vin..."

"No friends over," Vince shook his head, "mamma's orders, sorry kiddo."

His sister let out a long suffering sigh, "I know. I'll have you know it's so unfair, I didn't even do anything wrong. I smoked one single joint, sue me."

Vince snorted at that, "they already let you drink, why were you trying your luck, Soph?" he rolled hie eyes, "what do you want?"

"There's a party at Josh's tonight," Sophia jumped so she was sitting on the kitchen island, "it's not gonna be big, just us from the team-"

Vince snorted, "oh yeah, the team. I teach those boys, Sophia, you're not helping your case here."

Sophia cackled at that, "they're idiots," she agreed, "but c'mon, I promise I'll behave... And mamma didn't say anything about me going anywhere. Just that I couldn't have friends over..."

"Did you ask mamma?" Vince smiled at her, knowing already his sister hadn't. She wouldn't risk getting a negative, plausible deniability and all that.

Sophia rolled her eyes, shrugging.

"You're gonna get me in bad waters," Vince sighed and caused his sister to perk up, clearly realizing her win, "I don't want any of you idiots driving. You call me and I'll go pick you up, okay? I don't care how late."

"Okay-"

"And no getting wasted. Promise me."

"I'm not even gonna drink, I promise," Sophia nodded, smile so wide he could see her molars, "maybe just one beer."

"One," Vince measured her up, "please don't make me regret this, Soph."

"You're not, you're the best!" She squealed, jumping from the counter and planting a kiss on Vince's cheek, before she was running up the stairs to change clothes, "open the door for Rita, she's coming to pick me up!"

Vince groaned, feeling very much like he had just been played.

Thirty minutes later Sophia was rushing down the stairs just as her best friend, Rita, got inside. Vince could recognize her from class and from seeing the girl around the house before, so he couldn't understand why the teenager got all red whenever he was around. Sophia clearly could, as she shoved her friend forward, "don't look at him, let's go."

"Hi Vin-"

"Let's goooo," Sophia grabbed her best friend by the shoulders, almost jumping on her back, "c'mon, c'mon-"

"Sophia call me!" Vince shouted after her, "so I can pick you up!"

"I can bring her home, Vinc-" Rita started to say, but Sophia quickly shoved her friend inside the car, clearly not wanting to stay behind a minute more, lest Vin change his mind.

He let out a long suffering sigh and closed the door, rubbing his face and trying to ignore the stress headache already forming.

Livia looked up from her cocoon in the couch when he walked in and Vince crawled on the couch so he could cuddle her, "promise me you're not gonna become a troublemaker like Soph?"

Instead of answering him, Liv let out a groan, "Vinny," she curled up more, "I'm cold."

Vince frowned, it was a fairly warm night... He scooted closer, then pressed his lips to her forehead. He could feel the steady heat rolling off Liv, making her dark eyes all sparkly.

"I think you caught a bug, Liv," Vince scooped her up as if she was a toddler and his sister promptly threw her arms around his neck, seeking warmth, "let's get you some meds."

His mother kept a whole stash of medicine in the cabinet of the master suite, so he climbed up the stairs with Liv. It was a hassle to go through the pill bottles and boxes since his sister wouldn't let go of his neck and Vince pressed a kiss to her temple, planting her sat on the sink, "sorry, baby, you gotta let go so you can take meds..."

"No," Livia whined, curling up and hugging her stomach. He was almost grateful for how transparent his family was when it came down to sickness, because he could see the immediate shift in her face and jumped out of the way right as she projectile vomited, missing his chest by a second.

Chaos broke out, as she folded in half and almost fell off the sink, starting to sob. Vince's heart squeezed as he planted a hand on her forehead, keeping her from falling, "oh bambi," he cooed, rubbing her back, "why didn't you tell me your tummy hurt?"

She coughed, crying harder, "Vin... Vin, I don't like this..."

"I know," Vince kept a hand on her shoulder, stretching in order to grab the roll of toilet paper. He grabbed a bunch of squares, using it to dab the puke away, "how's your tummy? You still feel sick?"

Livia nodded, tears streaming down her face and he sighed, grabbing her by the armpits and pulling her off the sink, so she could lean over the toilet, "can you stay here just for a second? I'm going to get the cleaning supplies for the floor, okay?"

"O-okay..." Livia hiccupped, looking terrified and Vince's resolve to clean up the mess almost vanished. He really wished he didn't need to leave her.

He ran to the laundry room as fast as possible and when he returned, she had managed to puke inside the toilet, but also down her pink shirt and was sobbing copiously, as if a family member had died.

"Shhh-shhh," Vince jumped over the puddle, crouching down in front of her and used his hands to wipe away the tears, "hey, bambi, I'm here. I got you-" his hands were bigger than his baby sister's whole face and Livia shook with a new set of sobs.

Vince let out a whine, pressing a kiss to her brow, mess be damned, "take a deep breath, baby, you're alright. It's just vomit, it's not a big deal..."

She sucked in a sob, pointing at her shirt and Vin snorted. Girls. "It washes off, Liv," he promised, "arms up, let's get you out of this sticky shirt."

With a lot of effort, and another ten minutes with her leaning over the toilet spitting meager mouthfuls of puke, he managed to manhandle Livia inside his parent's bathtub, taking a bath while he cleaned up the mess.

She was leaning over it, cheek pressed to the rim, face all flushed when Vin finished up the cleaning, feeling disgusting himself. He felt his own stomach churn at the mess, all rags now discard in the bucket, the bathroom smelling like disinfectant, "I'm sorry..."

"Oh, it's fine, baby," Vince moved so he was sitting down next to the tub, pushing her wet hair back until it was all sleeked back, "at leas this time you didn't throw up on me, uh?"

She opened a little smile at his teasing tone, closing her eyes, "my tummy hurts, Vinny..."

"Like you're going to be sick again?" His hand went for the bin, but she shook her head, "no? Hurts where?"

Vince was a little at loss, but he had dealt with them sick before, this wasn't new. He could do this. Livia pointed at her belly button, making a cry face all over again, "hurts..."

"Okay, let's move to bed and I'm going to give you a belly rub, how about?"

She perked up at the idea and Vince rolled his eyes fondly, pressing a kiss to the top of her head, "let me get your robe and your pjs."

In the end, she didn't want a belly rub, just to curl up in bed, using him as a teddy bear. She was happy to let him run his fingers through her hair, curls all frizzy since he had dried the humidity off with a hairdryer.

Vince was dozing off in his baby sister's bedroom, continuing to rub her back, when his own stomach squeezed with a cramp. He squirmed in the bed and Livia let out a sleepy whine, pressing her overheated forehead to his shoulder.

"Sorry," he pushed her off and tucked her under the blankets, "I gotta use the bathroom, I'll be right back, Liv."

She pouted, "promise?"

"Pro-"

"Can you leave the door open?"

Oh, hell no. Vince squirmed as his intestines complained once again and he wondered if he had eaten something with milk, "I-"

"I'm scared," she hugged her pillow, "and the lights on?"

"Yeah, okay," he tucked her in once more, "stay in bed."

Vince rushed down the hall, to his own bathroom instead of the one Sophia and Livia shared, and nearly didn't make it, hands hastily shoving down his pants.

His intestines were cramping like hell, sending hot flashes that had him sweating enough he removed his shirt, and he rocked as his lower belly squeezed and expelled everything inside. Vince gulped down as a woozy feeling washed over him, causing his mouth to feel sticky and braced against his sink, unable to stay still.

Down the hall he heard Livia say something and Vince made a silent prayer that she stayed in bed and didn't come trailing after him, as she often did.

He forced himself to finish up as quickly as possible and decided to simply enter the shower to clean up, since his whole body felt heavy as hell. Once he was changed into a new set of sweatpants and sweater, he walked back to Livia's room and then froze at the door.

Somehow, in the thirty minutes he had been gone, she had managed to puke all over her blankets.

"VIN!" She cried out, desperate, as she saw him and Vince was on his feet immediately, queasiness and stress forgotten. He hated that sound in her voice, like her whole world was collapsing and he hadn't been there to help.

"Oh baby," he knelt next to the bed, using a clear patch of the blanket to clean her mouth and chin, "you couldn't get up?"

She shook her head, hiccupping again and he sighed, pulling her hair back as Livia vomited another mouthful of bile. Her hand shot up to her throat and she clutched at it, "hurts..."

"I know, I know," his heart squeezed, "are you done?"

"Ye-yes," her bottom lip trembled and more tears ran down, as she looked up in a pitiful manner, "I'm sorry... I made a mess..."

"No, bambi," Vince switched to italian, noticing the way she visibly relaxed as it probably reminded her of her parents, "it can be washed, don't worry about it. Let's get you out of this mess."

It was another trip to the laundry, now with the puke covered blankets, but at least she hadn't gotten sick on her new pajamas and only needed a fresher bed. More than anything, she wanted cuddles and wouldn't let go of Vince's neck as he redid her bed, with a fresh load of sheets and blankets.

He settled her down again, wondering if he should even try medicine once more. She had already puked it up twice, at this rate they'd either run out of children's syrup or she'd get intoxicated by it.

"C'mere," Vince pressed a cold washcloth over her forehead, hoping to bring the fever down in the less efficient way, "feels good?"

"Uh-hum," Livia's eyes drifted closed, "you're not leaving, right?"

"I'm not leaving," he promised, climbing on the bed that was far too small for him and Liv let out a happy noise, curling up like a cat.

#mywriting #sickfic #emeto #vince monacelli #i'm not gonna tag Liv and I do not take requests for her guys she's sick here just for realism sake #stomach flu

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mmmeto · 6 months

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Desperately horny tonight, so a little story time. Moreso an imagine, if you will:

You’ve spent the entire weekend home with your increasingly ailing partner, and god, are you beginning to question your intentions. Sure, you’ve explored your own interests here and there, and you’ve known for a while that vomit especially gets you going, but watching your typically lighthearted and lively partner slowly succumbing to the effects of a nasty belly bug is weighing you down rather heavily—much like their poor, ailing tummy.

It’s easy at first, ignoring the way your own chest flutters as they finally admit to feeling “a little sick.” It starts out small, with warm cuddles on the couch and your favorite movies playing on the TV while you gently rub soothing circles into their roiling tummy. It’s not until they sit upright, hand hovering over their mouth as their muscles tense beneath your touch, that you begin feeling a little too warm.

It’s probably just lunch, you assure them, hoping to settle things before either of you gets too worked up. Maybe they’d like some water, some more belly rubs? No, they say. No, they feel worse no. They feel sick—pukey sick. They think… they think they’re gonna throw up.

You can feel it building. As their skin pales, their gaze cloudy and their expression strained, your heart begins beating a little faster. There’s an unmistakable heat burning between your legs now, and you almost feel a little sick yourself, sick with anticipation. You don’t want this for them, of course. You hate seeing them suffer, but…

It’s loud, and messy, and it does happen. First you’re crouched in the bathroom, squirming where you sit on your knees, thighs rubbing together subconsciously as you stroke a palm up and down their back and brush back sticky hair from their sweaty face, cooing sweet assurances with a shaky voice. It’s hot, it’s so hot, and you’re desperate to pin them against the toilet rim, desperate to strip them from the waist down and fuck them into the porcelain, feel their belly clench and spasm beneath your hand as you hump them and grind against them, fingers working to get them off as well. But you don’t. You’re hot now, hot and sweaty and horny, but you keep yourself composed.

Hours pass, and suddenly you’re lying together in bed again. They lie on their side, head on your lap, trash bin nearby. A hand strokes through their hair, but your mind is elsewhere. You’ve given up speaking by now, too overwhelmed by the urge to pant and moan and beg, too desperate to encourage them to keep whimpering, keep telling you just how sick and nauseous they feel. Somewhere along the line they seem to take notice, as once you look back down to study their prone frame, your nervous gaze meets their red, glassy eyes. They’re feverish, confused, but they seem worried. They know something’s up, and so do you.

What’s wrong? They say, shaky hand reaching up to grasp you arm gently. What’s the matter? Are you sick? Are you uncomfortable? You seem… hot. So warm. Are you sick? No? Are you okay?

God, how you want to shove your fingers down their throat, holding them by the head and tugging on their hair, forcing your hand as deep down their throat as it’ll go as they squirm in your lap and bring up small, desperate streams of vomit and bile and soft, burpy moans. You want to fuck them silly, watch them choke and gag on your fingers as they helplessly retch up the remaining acid and water that managed to stay down between the waves of nausea they’ve experienced throughout the night. You’re desperate, so desperate…

You’re fine, you tell them. Meanwhile, as they turn away, moaning softly in relief as you rub their head, you slip your free hand past the waistband of your pants.

#emeto #emetophilia #vomit kink #if there’s other tags I should add please let me know!

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pestilentbrood · 4 months

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guy spends his entire life being told not to drink the Forbidden Death Soup and you will not guess what he does next

(his boss is not happy about it)

#hi i'm not dead #clamart #flight rising #fr mirror #//dragon: raketin #and then below the cut:#//dragon: ovaak #won't tag as banescale because he is not the Main Focus he's just in the sillay thing under the cut #emeto tw #emetophobia #i wanted to draw this guy it's been a while OKAY!! whatever. soup drinker time #//clan: loyalty

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mychlapci · 28 days

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Tarantulas fucks Prowl so hard with his huge weird ovipositor it makes his stomach turn, he throws up on Tarantulas when he starts getting filled with eggs.... sorry

don’t be sorry this is exactly what i asked for.

Need Prowl heaving and puking all over himself and Tarantulas when that freakishly huge ovipositor slips through his cervix and starts filling him with eggs. He feels so full and so sick and all that weight is just pressing down on his fuel tank. Prowl keeps gagging while Tarantulas licks the mess off of him.

#valveplug #emeto #filter your tags yall #eggpreg #maybe noncon #dubcon

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exmotranny · 4 months

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the green carpet scratches at your pink heels. bile rises in your throat.

they talk about womanhood- but it’s not quite right. there is the pink and compliments and talk of boys

i am a beloved daughter

but there is also something else. it digs at your flesh, it feasts on your skin. your mother motions at your chest, bigger than hers and you're not even done growing yet! how lucky.

of heavenly parents

you pray to a man every night, finish it in another’s name. on your knees. you were sent a shady link as a kid. the woman on her knees, tears streaming out of her eyes, i don't want this, she said

with a divine nature and eternal destiny

blood on the inside of your underwear. you were told this meant you were a woman now. you were ten years old. what the fuck did you know about being a woman? your mom said you weren’t allowed to touch between your legs, but it's normal to want to. you didn't know what that meant, either.

as a disciple of jesus christ,

you wanted to be desired. you daydreamed of being the trophy for boys around you, of claiming that role one day as a wife. you came from a long line of women married young. you don’t know their names, but you were taught about their husbands in church.

i strive to become like him.

pressing your breasts down as much as possible, trying to give the illusion of a flat chest. badly cropped jpgs of jesus photoshopped to have top surgery scars are the secret currency you pay to get past the hours of church. you hold them like diamonds.

i seek and act upon personal revelation

you thought god was talking to you. you almost threw away everything you owned. you thought you were a prophet. total fuckin’ ego death! holy shit! god speaks through me!

and minister to others in his holy name

and then the next morning. when your faith crashed, when moroni abandoned you, did it feel unreal to you too, joseph?

i will stand as a witness of god

oh god, no. please. i don’t know what’s real anymore.

at all times

leg hair peeking from under your pretty sunday dress. they all stare. you ignore them and open up to D&C 132.

and in all things

emma, did you love him to the end? i don’t think you wanted him. did you watch as he married a 14 year old? did you tell him you burned the commandment? did you cry when he died for the church that he loved more than he loved you?

and in all places.

blood on the floor of carthage jail. this martyr will be remembered forever. do they talk about you, emma? or are you just joseph’s wife?

as i strive to qualify for exaltation,

when i marry, my husband will be a god, and i shall cleave onto him. when i marry, i will go to his universe and bear more of his children.

i cherish the gift of repentance

heads bowed low as the sacrament is passed. my hands clutch onto the bottom of my skirt. pleasure outside celestial marriage is forbidden. i apologize for loving the wrong way.

and seek to improve each day

i tried to kill myself, last time i got home from girl’s camp. i got home and cried and found the pills and shoved them into my mouth until i cried more and more until i was gagging. i hunched over the toilet. my hands on the grimy floor.

with faith, i will

forced to sing in front of the congregation. my head spun from anxiety. my stomach turned with nausea.

strengthen my home and family,

loving wife beautiful kids loyal husband church once a week work weekdays weekend mom monthly round on the business end of his cock forever and the vomit threatens to make an appearance.

make and keep sacred covenants,

an old man is in a room alone with me. he asks me if i masturbate.

and receive the ordinances and blessings

i tell the man no. i receive a card so i can be ordained.

of the holy temple.

that's just how it goes, isn't it?

all around are paintings of god and jesus. we learned about heavenly mother. why don’t i see her in paintings? did god have plural marriages? did heavenly mother make us? why don’t we pray to her? did she watch god marry a 14 year old? did she cover her eyes? when she saw blood on her underwear, was she told she was a woman? did she touch between her legs? did she ever believe herself better than god? does she cry when she cant talk to us? why do i cry? was heavenly mother scared of singing in public and did she press her chest flat and did she cry when god forced himself into her mouth? did she burn his doctrine too?

i am given flowers on mother’s day. i will be one eventually, after all. and i vomit in the church bathroom quietly like the perfect woman i am supposed to be.

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