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[the-tummy-closet]

probably goes without saying but I have opted this blog out of third-party data sharing so fics here don’t get fed into the AI algorithm

[the-tummy-closet]

tapping to see if this blog is alive so I can ask something

It’s still being moderated; no submissions have come in for a while though.

[the-tummy-closet]

Past-Midnight Snack

((A/N: Heyy I hope you like this :) these are my OCs (which I changed the names of just in case) and they are bestie partners-in-crime mercs. And they only have a few supernatural things going for them!! It's normal in their sort of cut-throat big city. Enjoy!! - Cherricharlie))

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"You wanna watch Dance Moms or The Office?" Skylar asks, legs propped up on the table, remote hanging languidly from their hand.

"Can't we watch something that's less dramatic? More action, maybe?" Mason says, folding and placing his sunglasses on the table- it's way too dark to have them on, even for his usual insistence on wearing them.

The sun is past set, and the only light on in the apartment is the flatscreen TV, illuminating the two's faces like they were phantoms. The blinds remain open, letting a light blend of neons shine onto the floor at the window. A boom sounds off and the two don't do much besides blink.

"Dance Moms it is." The remote is discarded to the cushions as the show starts.

Mason groans, sliding off the leather couch at snail speed.

"It's literally my turn to choose. Shut the fuck up, they're already pulling each other's wigs off. Is that not action-packed??" Skylar kicks him in the side of his ribs on his way down to the floor, but Mason just slouches further.

"But they do that every episode, Skylar."

"Your little dudes slow-motion punch each other every episode too, Mace. We get it, you want to bruise him. Kinky for real." They lean forward and grab his arm, tugging.

He pushes himself up like the world is weighing down on him and sits on the couch heavily, turning to extend his legs over Skylar's lap. "Well, if you like it that much, you'll have no problem not getting up." Mason smirks.

"You act like you just did something. Bruh." Skylar's wings fidget and settle as they lean against the back of the couch. "I love this shit. I mean, I could also totally just look out the window, to be honest. But sometimes that's so lame, and this is so.. Making me invested. Not like that dude who totally took the L delivering your neighbor's live mice."

Mason nods slowly and vigorously. "The difference is that we can mute Dance Moms."

"Hah, tell me about it." The two sit in a tired and drowsy silence, occasionally bantering for a few episodes.

Today was one of those separate jobs days. Mason was typically hired when someone needed something done quickly and/or quietly, and Skylar was better at undercover socialization and manipulation. Together they could do either or, but both did what they could to get money and get a reputation, akin to the rest of the city. In the end, both of them stumbled home at around the same time that night, prompting a change in clothes and for Skylar to steal the remote.

Skylar didn't think they would have a problem with not getting up until they started to feel hungry. And really there was no way they were about to complain when they already acted like it was no big deal that Mason was preventing them from moving, but hell if they weren't starving. The last time they would have eaten had to be around eleven that morning; brunch with Alisa. Which was fourteen hours ago. Skylar internally groaned at the realization as they glanced behind them at the clock on the microwave, which taunted them with a tick from 1:24 AM to 1:25.

At their movement, Mason peeled open his eyes to glance up at them, half-lidded and slightly gruff. "Tired of Dance Moms? It's literally putting me to sleep, so I would understand."

"No, dumbass. I can't move because your stupid legs are on me."

"I thought you wouldn't have a problem with that?" Mason closed his eyes and smiled, tilting his head back over the armrest of the couch.

Skylar pressed their lips together- damn. "I don't! My legs are just, uh, asleep. Come on, Mace, pleeaaseee??? We can go to bed, I'll turn off your 'favorite' show, and we can wake up tomorrow- refreshed and not crampy."

Mason looked back up at Skylar, unamused. Then, with a supernatural breakneck speed that they had grown familiar with, swung his legs to the side like a gymnast who saw a spider on their beam. Their brief freedom was immediately taken away by his torso on their lap instead. "Nope." He said, a smile on his face as one arm covered his eyes.

"You still had that in you this whole time?" Skylar gawked. Mason smiled and nodded in response. "Well, do it again and get the hell off of me!" They whined, with no real malice in the plea.

"Sorry, Skylar. That was my last one for the night. I mean it."

"Oh, fuck you. Kill yourself. I mean it," Then, softer "not actually on that last part." Skylar gently slapped Mason, before sinking into the couch, further resigned to their fate. At least the remote was within reach; their eyes were burning off. They turned off the TV and reveled in the silence of the room. The busy city outside served as white noise, drifting in the room gently and blanketing the room in comforting silence.

Skylar quickly learned that the harsh noise of some crazy dance moms screaming was the only thing covering up their stomach growling. The long gurgle was easily heard in the otherwise quiet room, and Mason was definitely close enough to hear now. They shifted awkwardly, to let their wings rest over the back of the couch and give their spine a break, but to also get comfortable since Mason was starting to get up, slowly this time. Their wings started to bristle, nervous of Mason's reaction.

"That you?" He asked, using his elbows and forearms to prop himself up.

"No, it was the tiger I'm illegally hiding in the closet. Yes, it was me. Are you gonna let me get up or are you gonna let me starve?" Skylar responded, voice dropping low in embarrassment.

"You could've just said so, Sky." Mason responded, a serious tone with a playful jab.

He pushes himself up to sit up and Skylar finally gets the relief of stretching their legs with a satisfied groan. A hand flies to their stomach and they start to rub it, accompanied by a muttered "Ah, fuck…" as it made a deep, hollow-sounding growl with a high-pitched squelch at the end.

"Jesus, Skylar. I'll grab you a snack, you stay there." Mason stood with a bit more urgency.

"I finally can use my legs and you're doing it for me, half asleep?" Skylar asked. "You're too kind."

Mason ignored this as he slowly navigated the dark apartment to his kitchen. It was small, and he could still be heard without speaking up much in the next area. "When's the last time you ate?"

"With Alisa. Sausage and egg breakfast sandwich. She thought it was weird that I put tabasco sauce on it." They recalled, but their stomach wasn't immune to thinking about food, and gave another displeased groan.

"And you're always telling me to take better care of myself," Mason shook his head, finding pita and mildly spicy hummus in his pantry, which he knew Skylar would have a taste for. "If you went to sleep, you wouldn't have eaten in a full twenty-four hours." He continued, bringing the dish over to the couch.

"You were intent on keeping me on the couch! Sorry you couldn't take a hint over Dance Moms though. My b."

While Mason's eyes typically went unseen by most under his shades, he wasn't wearing them at the moment. Skylar could make out through the dark that he had rolled them in a mocking manner.

"Dance Moms: Now more important than eating. Got it. Do you want this or not?" He waved the dish around, the pita slices threatening to teeter off. Skylar had to swallow; their mouth was watering like crazy.

"Please." They muttered, staring the dish down, their hand now firmly against their discontented stomach, which had started to growl intensely in anticipation. "My stomach's mad at you, by the way." They added with a pout, lifting their hand so Mason could hear the full extent of its roiling complaints.

"Consider this my apology." Mason sighed as he handed Skylar the plate and plopped down next to them. Skylar dug in quickly, scooping a load of hummus onto a slice and shoving it in their mouth, silent as they repeated the action before even swallowing.

Mason felt like he could continue teasing them, but with the gusto that they were eating and not even quipping in between pieces, he decided to let off. They started to get to the last couple of pieces before they stopped momentarily. "Uh, Mace, do you want some?" They offered, moving the plate towards him.

He shook his head. "No, it's fine. Big dinner tonight." He patted his stomach, which was long done with sending his meal to his intestines, but he could still remember the fullness, which had easily been making him very drowsy. "Stomach got kind of jostled on the ride home, so no more appetite, but I don't know what I expected from a dinner at Mami's."

"Aw, you went to Mami's without me?" Skylar asked, disappointed.

"She's my grandmother, Skylar."

"Oh, come on, you can share her."

Mason made a noise along the lines of surrender, as Skylar continued to cram the rest of their snack into their face with urgency. "You can come next time. I had to have eaten like twenty of those meatballs." He offered.

"Mmm.. Shut up, I'm supposed to be content now." Skylar said, but sounded less on edge and more placated than anything, putting the now empty plate on the table and reclining. They stretched out their wings, draping them around the back of the couch. Their stomach was relatively quiet now, the only sounds coming from it being the result of it working away on their snack. "I accept your apology, by the way. My stomach definitely does."

The two sat in silence, the only noise back to being faint city arguments off in the distance and the occasional digestive grumble of Skylar's sated stomach. "Mace?" They said to the darkness, a half-asleep acknowledgment hum coming from his direction. "You can come back if you want." They patted their lap. "I don't care about sleeping sitting up. You're warm."

"What, am I your personal heater?" He joked, but lowered himself back down anyways, using Skylar's lap as a pillow. Their stomach was more audible up close, and he could hear a constant stream of calmly digesting burbles, which was pretty relaxing. The sound of gas dislodging in their gut could be heard making its way up.

"Hm. Yeah, I guess so. Urp-" Skylar belched. The speed of their eating caused a lot of air to be swallowed, and they briefly pounded on their chest with their fist to dislodge another, louder belch, prompting a sigh of relief. "G'night, Mace." Skylar muttered, tilting their head.

"Night, Skylar." He responded, closing his eyes for the night in turn. The two fell asleep on the couch, with no care about how they would wake up with muscle soreness in the morning. They were just glad both of them were content and happy. For now.

[the-tummy-closet]

hey there, just wanted to mention that I still haven't seen an updated version come in. :0 if you've already tried resending it, I'm afraid tumblr might have eaten it.

thattherebeet: i just realized there was a major typo in the ficlet i submitted! i humbly request to not have it posted yet! thank you so much and my deepest apologies!!

you're good! I haven't had the spoons to get it formatted yet anyways. ^^ just send in an updated version when you can and I'll get it out asap.

[the-tummy-closet]

thattherebeet: i just realized there was a major typo in the ficlet i submitted! i humbly request to not have it posted yet! thank you so much and my deepest apologies!!

you're good! I haven't had the spoons to get it formatted yet anyways. ^^ just send in an updated version when you can and I'll get it out asap.

[the-tummy-closet]

Out on the Town

This fic is part of the “Enchanter’s Emporium” series

First | Previous | Next | Series Index

Glynn was midway through wrapping the fish pie in cheesecloth when a knock rang out through the apartment. He wiped his hands on a dishtowel and hurried to answer the door.

Elijah, who was wrapped in furs and frosted with bits of snow, beamed at him as soon as the old wood had swung open on its hinges. He made a sound deep in his chest, and moved to greet Glynn with open arms.

“Elijah! It’s so good to see you!” Glynn chuckled and leaned into his friend’s warm bulk as they embraced. “Come in, come in! Put down your things and warm yourself by the hearth.”

Keep reading

[the-tummy-closet]

Behind Safe Walls

The sky above Solitude was a flat, solid white, with a few icy flakes already drifting down from the ominous clouds. Glynn shivered as he checked the latch on the window, making sure it was tightly secured. “It certainly looks like that storm is going to hit, just as promised.”

A grunt of agreement came from the hearth, where Kai was stoking the cooking fire. “Mmm. Been feeling the chill in the air all morning.”

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[the-tummy-closet]

T-Kiss is officially open for business!

Submissions are open, so read the Rules and send in your t-kiss posts!

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Do you take prompts?

This is a submission blog. Multiple people submit their stories and fics to the inbox here and the blog posts them anonymously on their behalf. If you sent a prompt list, it could be posted with the idea that anyone who submits their writing here is free to fill something from it, but it’s not possible to send a prompt directly to a specific writer.

[the-tummy-closet]

Stuck in the Middle

((Authors Note: Here's a small story that I wrote in between finals week! - RaccoonInk 🦝))

"C'mon c'mon, it's about to close!" Brendon yelled while he held the bus door. Leo and Devon hurried onto the bus, pulling the shorter Tabbitha onto the moving vehicle. They all breathed a sigh of relief as they huddled together into the crowd.

"Glad we made it," Leo panted, catching his breath. "I thought we would be late to class."

Devon nodded in agreement, grabbing on to the handrail. "Professor Jones would've never forgive us."

Tabbitha moved closer to Devon, clinging to their jacket. "He's right there."

"I can already hear the pre-lecture from him," said Brendon as he scoffed. "Why you come earlier to class? Do you have any respect for-"

"No, the professor is right there!" Tabbitha gestured to an older looking man sitting closer to the front of the bus. His almost permanent scowl was partly hidden by a newspaper as he adjusted his coat and reading glasses. All of their eyes widened in horror as they try their best to hide in the bus crowd.

Devon, Brendon and Leo ducked behind other bus patrons while avoiding eye contact with the old professor. Tabbitha backed up into Devon, tugging Leo and Brendon to form a barrier. They all sighed in relief as Tabbitha leaned against Devon. She felt the sway of the bus and she began to think about the school year so far.

This semester has been tough for her and all of her friends. Piles of homework, inconsistent sleep schedules, strict deadlines and even more strict professors plagued the school year. It was hard but they did have time to hang out with each other to relax and de-stress. Although the school has been kicking all their asses, Tabbitha felt that her and her friends were doing alright. Albeit, a bit sleepy. All four of them had delays to run out the door quickly to reach the bus, but they all made it.

A quiet groan sounded to causing her to jump a bit. She looked over to right to see Brendon subtly moving his arm over his stomach. Brendon winced slightly as his stomach grumbled a bit louder. Tabbitha could feel the blush creeping up her neck and avoided eye contact with him. It's true that they all skipped breakfast but she didn't think anyone was that hungry.

Another hungry gurgle came from her left and Tabbitha glanced in that direction. Leo was looking through his phone and sucked in his stomach as he saw an ad for food scroll by. He grunted softly as more gurgles and rumbles came from his stomach. Tabbitha could feel her cheeks grow warm as she grew more flustered. "There's only a couple more stops till we get off." Tabbitha thought to herself. "This won't be so bad."

A hollow growl filled Tabbitha’s ears as her heart jumped into her throat. She turned her head slowly to take a peek at Devon behind her. Devon stared straight ahead as they nervously looked around them and fidgeting slightly. They winced as they wrapped their arms around their stomach, trying desperately to quiet their growling stomach. Tabbitha felt her face grow hot while she was surrounded by her three oblivious friends.

The three of their stomachs made varying sounds of hunger and anger as their begs for food echoed through the quiet bus. The cacophony of growls and rumbles made a couple heads turn but no one singled any of the four college students out. Tabbitha caught glimpses of Devon, Leo and Brendon failing to silence their noisy stomachs and watched as they shrunk a bit in embarrassment. Tabbitha opened her mouth to comfort her friends but was interrupted by the bus' PA system announcing their stop approaching next.

All four of them followed the crowd off and huddled under the bus stop. Tabbitha took out her phone to look at the time as she raised her eyebrows. "Wow, we got here with 45 minutes to spare!" She exclaimed.

"Well," Brendon said, looking around at the nearby shops, "we made it with some time to spare."

"I wonder where the professor went if this isn't his stop," said Devon.

"Honesty," Tabbitha rubbed the back of her neck and smiled sheepishly, "it was hard to see or hear what was going on over the sound of all your stomachs growling."

Devon, Leo and Brendon all slightly shrank away as they hid their faces in embarrassment. Another symphony of hungry growls and rumbles erupted to demanded the breakfast they missed. The three of them mumbled out hushed apologizes, causing Tabbitha to smile.

"I'm sure the café open and we could get something before class." Tabbitha start walking ahead of them, stopping to look back at Brendon, Leo and Devon. "How about we head over there?"

Tabbitha could barely keep up with her friends as they bolted to that cafe.

[the-tummy-closet]

A Shared Family Meal

((Author's Note: I wrote this as a self-care project and uh🔥🔥…this story got away from me in the best way possible. This is a very self-indulgent story and one of the longest stories I've ever written, so enjoy my fellow fiends - RaccoonInk 🦝))

Devon woke up with a start as the afternoon sun burned their eyes. They brought their hands and rubbed their face, blinking a couple times so their eyes could adjust to the new light. As Devon sat up in their bed, the fuzzy memories started to flood back into their mind. It was spring break and most of the students went out or home for the time being. Devon stayed on campus since they weren't really wanted at home and there was food and activities on campus. That all changed when their roommate busted into the room, took all of the food that Devon bought for themself, argued with Devon for 15 minutes and stormed off. She won't be back until the break ends which means that Devon won't have to deal with her but would have no food for the whole break. Devon groaned as they flopped back onto their bed. They stared at the ceiling, wondering what they would do today. 

Before Devon could get comfortable, a stabbing cramp seized their stomach as they groaned in pain into their pillow. A deafening groan sounded in the empty room and left an uncomfortable empty feeling in their stomach. Devon returned a groan, placing a hand on their stomach and flopping an arm over their eyes. Another hungry grumble made Devon rub their belly, trying in vain to calm it down. A sudden ping from their phone caught their attention as they grabbed their phone. Devon's heart jumped into their throat when they saw who sent the message.

The message read, "Hey, are you busy right now?"

Devon knocked on the door and smooth a hand over the button-up shirt. Although Devon has only heard about Tabbitha’s family, they've never seen any of them in person. They made sure to wear something nice to make a good first impression for both Tabbitha and her family. They felt their heart flutter in their chest and their stomach contract painfully. Devon grimaced as they put a hand on the hungry organ. "Please don't embarrass me while I'm here." Devon thought to themself, feeling more cramps forming underneath their hand. They jumped slightly as they watched the door open to Tabbitha standing in the door, smiling happily.

"My oh stars!" Tabbitha squealed. "Good to see you Devon, come on in." She grabbed Devon’s hand and led them into the house.

"Thanks for inviting me over Tabbitha," Devon said, closing the door behind them and taking off their shoes. "sorry for-"

"Hush darlin' none of that." Tabbitha beamed, "It’s been a hot minute since I’ve seen you out of a classroom so I’m happy you’re here with me, means a lot to me.” She smiled and hugged Devon around their waist, resting their short frame against Devon’s body. Devon returned a warm smile, resting a hand on the top of Tabbitha’s head. A painful cramp seized Devon's stomach as their guts twisted and threatened to make their hunger known. They internally begged their stomach to not be too loud as Devon looked down at Tabbitha.

Wait. 

Her head is right on my stomach.

A hollow, angry grumble roared from their stomach as it was replaced by an aching emptiness. Both of them jump in surprise at the sound as they make eye contact with each other. Tabbitha folded her arms and gave Devon an annoyed, yet sympathetic glare while Devon wrapped their arms over their hungry stomach.

"Devon?" Tabbitha leaned in closer to them causing them to shrink a bit. "What happened to the food that you got? All four of us went food shopping with you and everything!"

"I um…" Devon mumbled, shuffling in their socks. "I-It's all gone."

Tabbitha tilted her head in confusion. "What? Why? How did all of it-"

"My roommate, Holly." Devon blurted out, looking at the ground clearly embarrassed. "Holly took all the food I got and left for the break with it. I tried to stop her but…she didn't listen to me."

Tabbitha sighed, swallowing her anger to comfort her friend. "It's ok darlin' we'll deal with that problem later. Let's get some food in you, ok?"

"Well I mean, I don't want to make a glutton out of myself in front of you or your family. Plus I don't want to eat the majority…" Devon suddenly stopped in their tracks as their eyes widened. The sounds of overlapping conversations filled Devon’s ears as their eyes scanned the large crowd of people. Then, their eyes stopped on a glorious sight. A whole 2 tables worth of food was laid out in the back of the room, making Devon swallow thickly. 

"God that's a lot of food," Devon said, staring longingly at the food. "It looks really good too."

"Well, I'm glad you brought a plus one Tabbitha!" A tall, older woman embraced Devon and Tabbitha tightly.

"Momma please!" Tabbitha chuckled. "You're gonna scare Devon off!"

"Oh? So this is the world-famous Devon I've heard so much about?" Tabbitha’s mother stepped away from her daughter and put a hand on Devon's shoulder.

"Y-Yes ma'am," said Devon, slightly bowing their head respectively. "It's nice to finally meet you and-"

"No need to be so formal, sugar." Tabbitha’s mom waved Devon off, pulling Devon closer to her. "If Tabbitha considers you a friend, you're part of the family. You sure are taller than she said you are…and thinner. I know this might be personal to ask but you eatin' alright? You're thinner than a bean pole and I heard you havin' roommate troubles?"

All eyes on the room fell on Devon as they felt their hunger create painful pangs in their stomach. Devon put on a fake smile, raking their mind for a believable lie. "Me? I-I'm fine! I'm totally fine. Sure me and my roommate have some small disagreements, but we work it out eventually. And don't you worry, I eat well. It's just that I'm not currently hungry at the-"

Devon’s stomach chose this time to interrupt with a loud, gurgly roar that could be heard over the general murmur of conversation. Devon tightened their arms around their stomach as they hung their head. "...moment. P-Pardon me."

"Hush, you poor thing." Tabbitha’s mother walked with both Tabbitha and Devon. "There's no need to be so modest sugar. There's no shame in indulgin' here, you won't be judged here. You are loved after all." Devon opened their mouth to argue but was silenced again by a deep, starved growl from their stomach. They sat down at a table as they saw Tabbitha sit down next to them, gently putting her hand on theirs. Tabbitha leaned over toward Devon and spoke in a hushed tone. “Sorry about all the attention but my momma is right you know. Your belly’s doin' more complaining than you, which means you're neglecting it.” Her statement was confirmed by Devon’s stomach growling, longingly to be fed. “See? We’re about to say grace but after that…just eat. Please?" Devon looked into Tabbitha’s eyes, gave a heavy sigh and nodded. 

The rest of the family took their places around the table and started to say their grace over the food. Devon's stomach gurgled and groaned all while Tabbitha’s mother said grace, gaining some sympathetic glances from family members. After grace is done, everyone gets up to make their own plate. As Devon got up, a pair of hands stopped them and softly pushed them back into the seat. Devon looked up to see Tabbitha’s mom kindly smiling down at them.

"Let me make your plate since you're a guest 'n all." She smirked, walking toward the line for food. She returned back to Devon with an overflowing plate of various foods. Devon's eyes practically bulged out of their head as they looked between their place and Tabbitha’s mother. "Go on sugar, you deserve it."

Devon began to dig into their plate, struggling to keep eating at a reasonable pace. The food was beyond delicious, there was so much of it and felt so warm in their hollow stomach. Their plate was finished in minutes and Devon looked up for Tabbitha’s mother to thank her for the meal. Devon watched as Tabbitha’s mother replaced their empty plate with a full one. Devon grinned, mouthed a "Thank you" and dug into their second plate. Tabbitha looked up from her plate to see Devon wolfing down food at a fast pace, enough to surely give them indigestion.

"Devon," Tabbitha said worriedly as she put a gentle hand on Devon's arm. "I think you should-"

With an abrupt stop, Devon looked at Tabbitha with a hint of curiosity in their eyes. Devon still held their fork full of food as they looked at her. Tabbitha bit her lip, not wanting to deprive Devon of a good meal.

"...you should try the fried zucchini and the cornbread." Tabbitha said, pointing to certain foods on Devon's plate. "It's really good." Devon nodded excitedly as they went back to eating their food while Tabbitha kept glancing over to make sure they were ok. She watched as Devon finished off their second plate and began eating their third, thankfully slowing down a bit. Tabbitha could faintly hear Devon’s stomach groaning irritability, desperately trying to digest all the food they were eating. She looked down and blushed slightly, seeing Devon’s stomach pushing against the fabric of their shirt more as Devon ate. They finished their third plate, Devon brought a fist to their mouth to stifle some burps that had snuck upon them. Tabbitha’s mother walked up to Devon’s seat and took their empty plate away.

"Did you enjoy dinner?" Tabbitha’s mother asked cheerfully. 

"Yes, it was really, really good,'' Devon nodded.

"I'm glad! That means you'll love the family made desserts." As Tabbitha’s mother walked away to set out, Devon smiled nervously as they looked at Tabbitha's mother while their stomach churned and whined loudly.

"G-Great, can't wait for dessert!" Devon said hesitantly.

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

Devon flopped onto a bed, making their stomach groan loudly at the sudden jolt of movement. They clutched their stomach as they returned their own pained groan. Devon slowly unbuckled their belt and began putting on more comfortable sweatpants. After a great effort, they laid back on the bed and sighed deeply. They looked down at the swollen curve of their belly pressing up against their button-up shirt.

"Sounds like you enjoyed the whole meal." Tabbitha smirked, closing the door behind her. "Sorry my momma was so pushy about you eatin', she just wanted to make sure you ate well. And judging by the looks of it, you ate really well."

Devon winced at every shallow breath as they could feel their overstuffed stomach desperately trying to digest. They wearily put a hand on the crest of their belly and lazily turned to Tabbitha. "Ugh, my stomach," Devon complained quietly, "I ate way too much, but the food was so good…I think I'm going to burst."

The fluttering in Tabbitha’s chest grew as she sympathetically smiled at Devon's state. Tabbitha tenderly unbuttoned Devon’s shirt as they groaned in a mix of pain and relief, giving their heavy stomach room to stretch. She tenderly pressed her fingertips against Devon’s stomach as her face turned a pinkish hue. "My god, you're packed tight. I knew I should've said something while you were eatin', I do apologize for that. Don't worry though, I'll get some medicine and a heating pad to help your tummy." 

Devon whined as Tabbitha shifted to get off the bed. They reached out and grabbed Tabbitha's hand, looking up at Tabbitha with pleading eyes. 

"Tabby," Devon muttered, "please don't go. I need you here. Can you just…stay?" 

A big sympathetic smile grew on Tabbitha’s face and she returned to Devon’s side. As she let Devon pull her closer to them, Devon put Tabbitha’s hand on the upper part of their belly, both Devon and their stomach let out a soft, yet pitifully pained whine. "Let's see what we can do about this tummy ache." 

Tabbitha put both hands on Devon's packed belly, pressed her palms into it, and thoroughly in broad circles. Devon squirmed under Tabbitha's touch and buried their face into Tabbitha's side. They could feel the food they ate being moved around, making their stomach rumble and bubble loudly. "You poor thing, no wonder your tummy's achin' since nothing's movin'. Everything's sittin' in there like a bump on a log." Tabbitha applied a bit more pressure behind her palms, earning a muffled moan from Devon. 

"I hope these belly rubs are helping you since you'll get some sorta-" Devon abruptly whined followed by a sudden burp as Tabbitha dislodged an air pocket in Devon’s stomach. "There we go- hey, hey, don't be embarrassed, it's ok! C'mon Devon, you have nothing to be ashamed of since that stuff doesn't bother me. You feel better now, don't you?" Devon slowly looked at Tabbitha and nodded, bringing their fist up to muffle another burp. "See, this is helping you. Now just let me help you feel better ok?" 

Tabbitha smoothed her hands under Devon’s ribs, applying pressure with her palms to soothe the tight spots. Devon melted at Tabbthia’s touch and tried to stifle all their burps as the air pockets were massaged out, mostly failing. Eventually, Devon felt their stomach grumble productively as the belly rubs helped relieve the cramps in their stomach. They sighed in relief and pushed their stomach into their friend's hands, letting out quiet groans and grunts. As their eyes flutter momentarily closed, Devon struggles to keep their eyes open as they look at Tabbitha. "Oooooh, Tabby?" Devon said in a strained groan. "That's…you have…ooooh…thank you." 

Tabbitha chuckled softly in sympathetic amusement as she shook her head. "You're welcome but you seem tired. Sleep."

"No…I'm not…sleepy."

"You know it's not good to fight sleep, not to mention you're fighting a losing battle. C'mon, I'll be right here. Ok?"

Devon slowly nods and lets their heavy eyelids close, drifting to sleep with a full, cared-for tummy.

[the-tummy-closet]

How are you and is the blog dead?

the blog isn’t dead but it’s never been very active. :0 we only have a handful of writers (maybe 3-5 max?) who submit things here even though there’s currently almost 800 followers.

at the moment there’s one fic in limbo because when it was submitted, tumblr ate the formatting and it’s a giant unbroken wall of text; I haven’t had the time/energy yet to comb through it and insert all the proper paragraph breaks. but the last fic posted here before that was 10 days ago, which isn’t too bad honestly. We’ve had dry spells that lasted more than a month in the past.

[the-tummy-closet]

Back - A Belly Kink Fic by Kerwynlar

King Ander had been unable to eat while his husband was away on a dangerous mission. With Marcus back, the king regains his appetite but suffers the consequences. Fortunately Marcus is more than happy to help him feel better.

Read it on AO3 or below the cut.

Content warning: This story contains a description of what could be considered anxiety-induced disordered eating. Please proceed with caution if that's a difficult subject for you.

King Ander flew through the halls of his castle, his mind a white static buzz of hope and excitement.  He shoved open the main doors before the guards could open them for him and burst into the courtyard just as a group of dirty, battered men rode tired horses through the archway.

“Marcus!” The king gasped, seeing only the rider who led the procession. He froze, the relief all but knocking him to his knees. Ander’s eyes filled with tears and his head swam. He stood, trembling, as the burly form of his husband dismounted and rushed up to him. Marcus wrapped Ander in his strong arms and the king sagged against him.

“Oh Marcus, thank god,” he said through tears of relief.

Marcus hugged him tightly and kissed the top of his head. “I missed you, my king.”

Ander pressed his forehead against Marcus’s metal breastplate, willing his tears to stop, then looked up at his husband’s face. He frowned on seeing the cut across a prominent cheekbone and bruising over one side of Marcus’s square jaw. “You’re hurt!”

“Some cuts and bruises, my king. There’s nothing worse than what you can see.” Marcus gently tipped Ander’s chin up and kissed him passionately, heedless of the soldiers, guards, and others in the courtyard. When they finally broke apart, Ander looked searchingly into Marcus’s face. “You’re really not injured?”

“I’m fine, my king, I promise you.”

“And your men? Did they all make it back?”

“Yes, my king, they’re all here. A few injuries, but they’ll all be fine.”

“Thank god,” Ander murmured as he pressed his cheek against Marcus’s chest. “I’m so glad you’re back.”

Marcus rubbed his hand over Ander’s back. “I need a bath,” he said quietly, “and then I will show you how much I missed you.”

Ander smiled and tipped his chin up for another kiss, then stepped back and drew himself up, squaring his shoulders. The king turned to an attendant who was waiting off to the side, his voice taking on a different, commanding tone. “Nuala, inform the council that the Prince Consort has returned. He needs time to rest and refresh himself but ask them to-” he turned to Marcus, “join us for dinner?” Marcus gave a subtle nod and Ander turned back to the attendant. “Tell the council that if they will join us for dinner the Prince Consort will brief them on the details of his mission over the meal. Inform the kitchen and the staff that we will be hosting the council for dinner in my private dining room. Make sure also that the Prince Consort’s men have all their needs seen to and any injuries are treated immediately.”

The attendant bowed. “Certainly, Your Highness.”

Ander nodded at her then took Marcus’s hand to lead him to their apartment.

Ander and Marcus lay naked in their bed following lovemaking that began desperate but turned languorous and gentle. Ander was curled against Marcus’s side, his head on the broad muscular chest. Marcus ran his hand over Ander’s hair and down his back again and again.

“Ander,” Marcus said softly, reluctant to break the comfortable silence.

“Mm?”

“I can see your ribs, love.”

“I can see yours ,” Ander replied, “and they’re bruised.” He trailed gentle fingers over the ugly purple blotch.

“That’s nothing,” Marcus said. “And I was eating whatever we could forage and the dried supplies we had with us. You were here.” Ander let the silence stretch out and Marcus sighed. “Ander, please. You haven’t been ill, have you?”

“I’m not ill. I was just…” he buried his face in Marcus’s chest, “sick with worry. I couldn’t eat while you were gone.”

“Ander…”

“I could have lost you!” Ander’s voice broke with emotion. “I could have lost you and not even known for months! For all I knew you were already dead. I don’t - I don’t know how I would go on without you!”

“Oh, my love.” Marcus’s voice was quiet and he squeezed Ander to him. “I’m back, love. I’m here now.”

Ander let his tears fall on Marcus’s chest for a few minutes before taking a shuddering breath. “I couldn’t neglect my duties,” he said just loud enough for Marcus to hear, “but the worry took up so much of my mind that I had to neglect something , and that something was food.”

“Oh Ander,” Marcus stroked his hair, “I’m so sorry, love. I’m sorry it took me so long to get back to you.”

Ander pulled himself back and shook his head, wiping roughly at his eyes. “Don’t apologize. The fact that you accomplished the mission and brought all your men back is incredible. I’m fine. And now that you’re here I’m fantastic.” Ander leaned in for a deep kiss. When they parted he glanced at the clock across the room. “Let’s get ready for dinner. I suspect you brought my appetite back with you.”

Ander relaxed back into his seat. Marcus’s big hand was on his thigh, where it had been almost the entire time they had been at dinner with the council. His husband - his brilliant, brave, gorgeous husband - had finished giving his report on the mission and was now answering the council’s questions. As the information was largely a repeat of what Marcus had told him in private, and the conversation required nothing of Ander but his presence, the king found himself becoming more aware of the feeling in his stomach. He was full . For the first time in weeks. It felt incredible. He would have liked to rub his belly, but didn’t want to draw attention.

A kitchen maid approached and grinned broadly when she saw his empty plate. “May I bring you some more, Your Highness?” she asked quietly enough that no one else would hear.

“Yes, Jessa, thank you.”

Her smile widened as she bowed. “Cook started baking a honey cake when she heard you were eating, Your Highness. It’ll be ready shortly.”

“Thank Cook for me, and tell her I’m looking forward to it.”

Ander had finished a second portion of meat and vegetables and was slowly making his way through the giant slice of honey cake that Jessa had brought him when his stomach began to cramp in earnest. His belly had started to get a little sore during his second helping but the minor soreness was outweighed by the blissful feeling of fullness that he was adding to. And the food tasted amazing. He had largely been subsisting on broth and the bare minimum required to keep him able to attend his duties. With Marcus away, everything tasted like ash in his mouth and he had been nauseated more often than not. But now Marcus was safe and uninjured and back . Ander would sleep in his husband’s arms that night. The meat had been tender and juicy with a rich sauce, and the vegetables were sweet and crisp. Each bite he took of the honey cake melted on his tongue.

But it seemed his stomach had caught up to the fact that it wasn’t used to this. It gave a lurch and a cramp, and it was all Ander could do to keep from groaning audibly. Oh, this had been a mistake. The fullness and the heaviness still felt lovely, but waves of pain were seizing his belly. He tried to focus on the conversation and not let his distress show, but then Marcus squeezed his thigh and gave him an inquisitive look. Ander tried to smile at him normally but his hand quickly flew to his mouth to stifle a burp.

“My lords,” Marcus said, turning back to the guests, “I hope you and His Majesty will forgive me, but after weeks of sleeping on the ground, I find myself quite eager for my bed. And with His Majesty’s permission, I would also request my husband’s company.” Marcus brought Ander’s hand to his lips and kissed it. Ander thanked the council for joining them and bid them a good night, then pushed himself to his feet. Oh he felt as if he had swallowed a cannon ball. Multiple cannon balls. He glanced down at his front and was immensely relieved to see that his robe hid any signs of his overindulgence, but he knew his belly was severely bloated. Ander felt Marcus’s eyes on him, and looked up to see the inquisitive expression again, and his husband offering his arm. He acknowledged the council’s bows and took Marcus’s arm, resisting the urge to sag against his side.

“Are you alright, love?” Marcus asked when the door shut behind them.

“Fine,” Ander somehow managed a light tone and squeezed the brawny arm. “Still beside myself with relief that you’re here and I’m actually touching you.”

Marcus chuckled and leaned down to kiss Ander’s cheek. The king’s overfull stomach chose that moment to give an audible grumble and Ander’s hand flew to it.

“Your stomach?” Marcus asked gently. “It can be difficult to adjust to a regular meal after being hungry for a time. I’m sorry, I should have instructed the kitchen to serve something light tonight.”

“I believe I was taking up all of your attention this afternoon.” Ander tried for a flirtatious tone, anything to not have to talk about his aching stomach.

As soon as the door to their room shut behind them Ander’s stomach gurgled loudly and cramped again, forcing a quiet “mmf” out of him. Marcus came up behind him and wrapped him in his arms, placing his hands ever so gently on Ander’s belly. “That doesn’t sound so good, love,” Marcus said quietly with a kiss on Ander’s shoulder.

Ander’s belly ached to be touched and rubbed. The thought of Marcus’s big warm hands soothing the churning, relieving the awful pressure, made the king a little weak in the knees. But no. This wasn’t the time. He had been so stupid to eat that much. Ander forced himself to step forward and out of Marcus’s embrace.

“I’m fine, really.”

“Ander,” Marcus chuckled, “you haven’t been able to deceive me since we were 13 years old. I can tell you’re uncomfortable. I don’t know how much you ate since I was focused on the council, but that rich meal after you’ve been eating so little? There’s no way you don’t have a stomach ache.”

Ander sighed and turned to face him. “You just crossed the Wild, twice , were attacked by wyverns and bandits, and saved an entire village from starvation! I should be fussing over you tonight, not dealing with the aftermath of stuffing myself.”

Marcus stepped forward, shaking his head. “Love, the only reason I was able to do any of that is that I knew you were safe and sound here, waiting for me to come back to you.” He cupped Ander’s cheek. “If our positions were reversed? If you had been off on a dangerous mission for weeks and I had no way to contact you and no idea when or if you would return to me? I would have been beside myself with worry. I don’t know what I would have done, but I can promise you that it wouldn’t have been keeping up with my responsibilities perfectly and just losing a little weight.” Marcus leaned down to place a gentle kiss on Ander’s lips. “You are strong, and brave, and an excellent king. I am in awe of you, my love, and I can think of no better way to celebrate being home than to hold you and comfort you.”

Ander’s eyes filled with tears and when his stomach gave another loud complaint, he let himself rest his hands on his middle. He stepped forward into Marcus’s arms. “I love you,” he whispered, laying his cheek against his husband’s chest.

“And I love you. Now let’s get you undressed so I can fuss over you and help you feel better.”

Ander took a step back, grimacing. “I’d rather just lay down.”

“In a formal court robe?” Ander didn’t meet his eyes, his hands holding his middle protectively. “Come on love,” Marcus urged gently, “after weeks with only ugly soldiers for company you’re going to deny me the pleasure of seeing your body and touching your skin?”

Ander chuckled a little then sighed. “This is embarrassing, Marcus. I’m so bloated, I probably look ridiculous.”

“Ander, you’ve seen me piss my pants -”

“You were a child!” Ander cut in.

“You’ve pulled me out of a puddle of my own vomit and cleaned me up,” Marcus continued. “An act that was so far below the dignity of the crown prince that no one would have believed me if I told them.” He stroked Ander’s cheek as the king rolled his eyes. “I’ve known you since we were barely more than babes. I’ve loved you since I’ve known what love was. I know and adore every inch of your body. Are you hiding a round, bloated belly under that robe?” he stepped forward and placed a hand on Ander’s middle. “Let me see so that I can tell the right places to rub to make you feel better.”

Ander sighed. “Alright.”

Marcus kissed his forehead and began unfastening the clasps securing the robe, then gently eased it from his shoulders and draped it over a chair.

The swell of Ander’s belly pushed against the fine linen of his shirt and strained the laces of his breeches. Marcus carefully untied the breeches and Ander gave a relieved huff. Moving slowly, Marcus pulled the shirt out from the breeches and slid his hand underneath, gently placing it on the curve of Ander’s belly. Ander’s skin was warm, the swell firm under Marcus’s hand but he could feel the grumbling and gurgling within.

Ander made a sound somewhere between a sigh and a groan and rested his forehead against Marcus’s shoulder.

“I’m glad you ate,” Marcus kissed the side of Ander’s head. “And I like that I can see and feel that you ate. I’m sorry that you have a stomach ache, but I’m very glad that I can help you feel better.”

With that Marcus moved his hand to the small of Ander’s back and guided him to the bed. Ander sat and Marcus kneeled in front of him, quickly pulling off his boots and setting them aside.

“Oh,” Marcus breathed as he gazed up at his husband, “you beautiful man.”

“Stop it,” Ander mumbled, running his hands through Marcus’s hair, “I’m not beautiful, I look ridiculous.”

“Beautiful,” Marcus insisted, then leaned forward to place a gentle kiss near Ander’s belly button. Ander gasped - his skin was so tender and sensitive, the kiss seemed to light every nerve in his body on fire.

“Marcus,” Ander whispered.

Marcus kissed Ander’s belly twice more before it made a loud gurgling sound and Ander grunted in discomfort. Marcus patted the pillows, arranging them so that Ander could recline against them. “Here, love.”

Ander gingerly swung his legs onto the bed and leaned back as Marcus perched beside him. Marcus eased his hands under Ander’s shirt again and started by rubbing the sides of Ander’s rounded belly, encouraging the straining muscles there to relax. After a minute Ander sighed and let his eyes flutter closed. The warmth of Marcus’s hands was incredibly soothing as was the mere fact of Marcus being there, on their bed, touching him. Once Marcus felt a little more give under his hands, he moved his attention to the top of the swell, just over Ander’s packed stomach.  He rubbed gentle circles with his fingertips at first, then added a little pressure with his thumbs. Ander’s eyes flew open as a huge belch erupted from him. He covered his mouth, blushing bright red. “Oh, ugh. I’m sorry, excuse me.”

Marcus leaned forward to kiss his cheek. “No need to apologize, love. Did that help a bit?”

The pain in Ander’s belly had eased slightly but he kept his hand over his mouth. “A bit.”

“Good.” Marcus kissed Ander’s other cheek and returned to a sweeping motion with his thumbs. After a moment they both felt a burble along one side of Ander’s stomach. Ander grimaced at the accompanying cramp and shifted under Marcus’s hands to bring them to the right spot.

“Oh, there,” he murmured and groaned softly as Marcus kneaded the tender area. Marcus smiled and focused on the spot until Ander sighed with relief and some of the tension left his face and shoulders. Marcus began seeking out other places on Ander’s bloated belly where he could feel tightness and massaging them until they unknotted. Ander drifted in a sleepy haze, making no effort to stifle the relieved groans that Marcus’s hands were producing from him.

Eventually, Ander felt pressure building uncomfortably in his chest. He swallowed but it brought no relief. Too sleepy for embarrassment, Ander took one of Marcus’s hands and pressed it firmly to the top of his belly, just under his ribs. Marcus took the hint with a smile and pressed in. He had just massaged a circle over the area when Ander gave a deep burp. Marcus kept pressing and the burp was followed by another, after which Ander’s head flopped back in relief. “Better,” he breathed, “better.”

Ander’s belly was still rounded, but it felt less tight under Marcus’s hands and the grumbling within had moved lower and was less angry. Marcus rubbed wide, gentle circles over the whole area, feeling his eyes starting to get heavy.

Ander caught Marcus’s wrist and brought his hand to his lips to kiss. “I think we’re both ready for sleep, love.”

Marcus smiled at him and rubbed his eyes. “Yeah, that sounds good.” It was the work of a moment for Marcus to strip down to his underclothes and climb into bed beside Ander. Ander rolled onto his side and Marcus wrapped himself around his back. Marcus kissed the top of Ander’s head and laid his hand gently on his belly. A few more soft rubs and they were both asleep.

[the-tummy-closet]

Grizzly

((Author’s Note: inspired by..... a post. maybe you've seen the one.))

They set up their camp near the edge of the festival grounds, close enough for Julian and Maria to go back and forth. Personally, Emmett would’ve preferred to pitch the tent further away. But their little group didn’t pass through towns often these days, particularly not during harvest season, and he couldn’t deny his friends the chance to watch the villagers hold their contests and hear the storytellers perform their songs.

He couldn’t complain too much anyway. The village they’d found themselves in was located at the mouth of a great river, and as it turned out, this time of year was not so much harvest season for them as it was fishing season. He’d come back from his single trip to the festival grounds with a basket full of bark-wrapped fillets of fresh salmon, roasted on hot coals. The fish was hot and smoky and perfect, one of the most delicious things he’d ever tasted, and he was perfectly content to spend his evening lounging by the campfire, unwrapping filet after filter as he waited for his friends to return.

He ate warm, tender fish until he felt like his stomach would burst if he tried another swallow. Then he pulled his cloak around himself, leaned into the bundle of furs at his back, and closed his eyes to let himself digest.

It was Maria’s amused voice close by his ear that roused him: “You still with us, Em?” 

“…Hmm?” Emmett dragged open an eye. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been drowsing, but it sure hadn’t been long enough for his belly to make much progress, as evidenced by the way his sides ached as he shifted to look at Maria. “What?”

“Just checking on ya. They’re serving up dessert over at the festival grounds. Blueberry pie.” She tilted her wooden bowl so he could see. “It’s delicious.”  

“Mmm….” Normally, Emmett would have just dismissed dessert out of hand, but the firelight glinted off the syrup oozing out between the golden pastry in Maria’s bowl, and despite all the fish weighing down his insides, his mouth watered. “Looks good. Too bad I’m so stuffed with salmon I don’t think I can get up.”

Maria laughed. “Aww. Who doesn’t overdo it at festivals, though?”

“I’m not joking, Maria. I would go get pie if I could. But I literally can’t move.” To illustrate his point, he tried to sit upright, huffing a little as the pressure in his belly spiked. His cloak slipped away, revealing the way his shirt was clinging to the swell of his middle, and he couldn’t help but chuckle as he stared down and fully appreciated how silly he must look.

“Damn!” Maria laughed, sounding both incredulous and a little concerned. “Okay Em, yeah, that tummy looks pretty heavy. Are you feeling okay?” 

“Mmhmm.” Sitting up straight was starting to make Emmett’s stomach cramp, so he sank back into the furs with a soft sigh, resting one hand against the curve of his lower belly. “Just full.”

Maria settled onto the pile of furs next to him, snuggling up against his side. Her hand tentatively found the bulge where Emmett’s stomach was protruding beneath his ribs, and she laughed as he stifled a burp. “I’ll say. How many of those fish packets did you eat?”

“Mmm… lost count.” Emmett braced his hand against his side as another burp worked its way up, and then groaned contentedly as Maria began to rub gentle circles over the tightness of his dinner. “Fuck, that feels good, Maria… Keep doing that, please.”

“Are you two cuddling without me?” Julian’s bright voice preceded him plopping down on Emmett’s other side. “There’s pie at the cookfire, Em. I brought you some.”

“He’s full up to his ears with fish,” Maria laughed, patting Emmett’s belly.

“So he is.” Julian’s expression shifted to something both amused and deeply fond. “You must’ve been hungry.”

“Yeah. And the salmon here is just so fucking good.” Emmett groaned ruefully as he glanced down at the two bowls of pie resting on Julian’s lap. “Bet that pie’s good too.”

“Oh, it is. I would even venture to say that it’s not to be missed. If your stomach has the room, that is.” Julian’s hand joined Maria’s on the bulge of Emmett’s belly. His fingers pressed in gently, as though to emphasize how taut it was, but at the same time, he moved one of the bowls into Emmett’s lap. “I bet you could manage a little taste.”

“Mmm. Stuffed with salmon and now being tempted with blueberries. I feel like a damn grizzly.” Emmett sighed softly, considering. The bowl of pie that Julian had placed on his leg had slipped to rest against the curve of his belly, and he was so full and sensitive there that its weight felt heavy even on the outside of him. He wasn’t sure he could fit much more in. But then again… Maria was right. Festivals were typically for overdoing it. And what better place to overdo it than here, with soft furs and a crackling fire and a loved one close on either side?

“I’m gonna have a little,” he decided. “But... mmm...” —he paused as his stomach gurgled uncertainly— “I might be kinda out of it afterwards.”

“That’s alright, Em, we got you.” Maria swept her hand up to rest just below his ribs and began rubbing gentle circles with her fingers. “You should have as much as you want.”

“Absolutely agreed.” Julian’s palm was pressed to Emmett’s taut side, warm and supportive. “Just be careful, dear. Don’t make yourself sick.”

Emmett didn’t feel sick in the slightest, which was unusual for him, considering how far past full he already was. As he put the first bite of pie in his mouth, savoring the perfect balance of tartness and sweetness and the way the tender pastry flaked between his teeth, he couldn’t help but wish that he were able to indulge himself to this point more often. Eating on such a stuffed stomach felt… intensely and viscerally good in a way that he had rarely experienced. He could feel the very edges of his body, thanks to the way each swallow pressed outwards as it squeezed down, and it was pleasurable in that same primal way he sometimes felt when he was running or riding or fighting—as though he were a wild animal, all raw natural power, bound by nothing but his body and its limits.

And then of course, there was the press of his friends’ hands over the sore stretch of his belly. It wasn’t just the relief of pressure eased, of tension gently massaged away—although that was incredibly good on its own—but also the powerful intimacy of it all, the way he could feel affection in each careful press and concern in every slow, thoughtful motion. He could feel each touch easing the burden of everything he’d eaten—the circles beneath his ribs helping each bite find a tiny crevice of room to settle into, the slow sweeps over his navel calming strained twinges and rumbles, the kneading into his sides helping the muscles relax so his belly could swell out even further.

He was so caught up in the sensation of it that he felt drunk. Everything else around him seemed to blur into a haze—the warmth of the fire, the repetitive scrape of his spoon against the bowl, the soft sounds of Maria and Julian chatting. It pulled him partway out of his daze when he realized they were talking about him.

“…I dunno, should we stop him? His tummy is getting enormous.”

“Hmm, he really is quite bloated, isn’t he?”

“Yeah, and I mean—seriously, Julian, feel right here, under his ribs.”

The hand supporting the heaviness of Emmett’s lower belly suddenly disappeared. He made a soft sound of protest, which was quickly replaced by a deep groan as it reappeared on the sensitive swell high in his middle, where pie and fish were packed tightly in his stomach.

“Oh my.” Julian’s voice was full of concern. “Are you sure you’re alright, Emmett dear? Your belly feels so full.”

A thumb pressed a gentle circle into the extra-tight lump inside him, while another warm hand rubbed over its side before pressing down towards his navel to support it from underneath. Emmett groaned happily, feeling his stomach gurgle appreciatively with the help, and mumbled, “Mmm… yeah, I’m good.”

As the neared the bottom of the bowl, he developed a vague awareness that he was reaching some kind of limit. The strained feeling in his stomach had grown throbbingly intense, and he was starting to feel uneasy grumbles even through the supportive press of his friends’ hands. The bowl was nearly empty, and part of him wanted to finish it, just to see if he could. But the next morsel of pie he swallowed forced up a wheezy belch, and he had the distinct feeling that he had just traded the last bit of air in his stomach to hold that bite.

“Ugh,” he gasped. “Ohhh, my stomach… okay, I’m... I’m—urp—done.”

Immediately, the bowl was taken from his hands, and he felt an arm—it was hard to say whose—gently encircling his shoulders. He wanted to tell them that he’d prefer that hand on his belly, really, but after wheezing out his admission of defeat, he couldn’t get enough breath back to say anything more. He was so full that his lungs felt squeezed, so full that the bloat of it all was forcing him to sit with his back arched. Trying to bend at the waist to move into any other position seemed impossible.

“Come on, boy, don’t explode on us.” Maria’s voice was warm and affectionate, close to his ear. “That was seriously impressive. You’re not in pain, are you?”  

Emmett tried to say “no,” but all that came out of him was a ragged groan. He flashed a little grin instead, trying to make sure that Maria knew he was alright. His stomach did ache, but in a nice way, like the satisfying soreness he felt in his body after a good day’s work. Not to mention, the press of loving hands was soothing the ache out of his overworked stomach like a massage soothing cramps from overworked muscles. 

“Poor dear. Can’t even speak, can you?” Julian’s voice coincided with a gentle press of a hand over his navel, and Emmett panted as a wave of relief surged through his straining belly. “Have I mentioned how adorable you are when you indulge yourself?”

It was a good thing Julian found it adorable. Emmett could only imagine that he looked like an absolute mess. But that was the beautiful thing about having people who loved you. It didn’t matter. Sometimes being messy only made them love you more.

“Somebody looks ready to hibernate.” Julian patted Emmett’s distended belly with a chuckle. “Seems like you’ve got enough in here to last you until spring.”  

“Shuddup,” Emmett mumbled, letting his head fall sideways to press his cheek into Julian’s shoulder. He groaned softly as he felt an uncomfortable rumble building in his overstuffed stomach, and then again as Maria’s hand kneaded in to settle it. It was a struggle to catch his breath, but he managed to groan, “Fuck… I’m so full…”

“Yeah, we noticed. Kinda hard to miss all this.” Maria swept her hand over Emmett’s swollen front, then leaned over to kiss his cheek. “You’d better get to work on digesting, because we’re going to have to move you eventually.”  

“Hrmph.” Emmett rubbed his knuckles over the crest of his stomach, thinking that his digestion had already been hard at work for quite some time.

“Don’t worry. We’ll help.” Julian patted just below where Emmett was rubbing, prompting a grumble from deep in his belly. “Did you enjoy that pie?”

“Mmm… yeah. So good.” Emmett arched his back just a tiny bit more, hoping to illustrate that he was enjoying all the attention, too.

Julian seemed to get the picture, judging by the way he chuckled and obligingly rubbed a broad circle across the expanse of Emmett’s belly. “You just get some rest.”

Emmett didn’t need to be told twice. He let every muscle in his body fall slack, including his eyelids. The world shrank down to the warmth of the fire and the weight of his stomach and the warm trails of relief left in the wakes of his friends’ hands, and he drifted off to sleep.

[the-tummy-closet]

I’m not going to be changing the tags on this blog (just to prevent filtering nightmares), but be aware that fics here may no longer be viewable on Tumblr mobile if you’re an iOS user. In fact the whole blog may be blocked on mobile if you’ve updated your app recently.

[the-tummy-closet]

Should Have Stopped

((Author’s Note: Emeto isn’t usually my thing, but I’ve been in a weird place lately and this really lit my fire. In hopes that it will light some fires for others please enjoy this Tummy Closet Exclusive (i.e. will not be posted on my AO3). ~Kerwynlar))

Alistair hiccupped and his hand flew to his mouth. “Oh, excuse me.”

Ben grinned. “No excuse needed, sweetheart. Are you enjoying the meal?”

Alistair rubbed the swell of his pregnancy with a soft smile. “Mm yes, it’s just what the - HIC! - just what the little one wanted. In fact I think I’ll have a bit more.”

“Alright, I’ll be in the kitchen. Holler if you need anything.”

Alistair nodded and took a bite of curry, then another of buffalo chicken. He hiccuped a few more times and patted his belly. After a few chili fries, he paused with a little grunt. His stomach was beginning to feel a little sore and he rubbed his belly for a moment, producing a shallow burp. He knew he should stop, but the satisfaction of his cravings was so pleasurable and Ben had done so much to provide everything he asked for.

“Just a - HIC - just a bit more,” he murmured to his belly. A few more bites and he stopped again as the pain increased. “Hilk! There, there. Hiccup!”

He patted his belly, trying to burp, but only produced a shallow one that provided no relief. Alistair massaged his belly for a moment, realizing suddenly that it was bigger, the roundness starting closer to his ribs, than normal. He rubbed that upper part of his midsection and produced a deep burp. Smiling, he reached for the curry. After all it was quite good.

Alistair’s stomach gave a loud grumble and he blanched, pressing his hand against his mouth and dropping his fork. The sound had accompanied an uncomfortable churning of his insides, making him feel lightheaded and hot. The pain in his stomach had suddenly turned liquid. He felt like he was trying to digest lava.

“Oh,” he breathed after another gworble sound, “I think I should probably - HIC! - probably stop.” The feeling wasn’t quite nausea but his stomach was struggling  and it was intensely uncomfortable.

Another glorp, another lurch, this time resulting in a wet-sounding belch. Alistair groaned his discomfort. He pressed both hands to his belly just under his ribs and could feel the churning within. He closed his eyes against another violent lurch but they flew open a moment later when he let out a massive belch. He groaned and gave several smaller burps. Once he caught his breath he started to call for Ben but was cut off by another huge belch that ended in a hiccup. He pressed his hands against the swirling pain in his belly and groaned.

“Al? You ok in here?” Ben returned to the dining room, wiping his hands on a towel.

“N- HILK! No. I don’t feel well at all. HIC! Hiccup! Oh my poor stomach.”

“Belly ache, sweetheart?”

Alistair gave a miserable nod. “I knew this wasn’t-“ he covered his mouth as a deep belch erupted, “oh excuse me. This wasn’t sitting well, but it’s gotten - oof - much worse very quickly.”

Ben grimaced and shook his head. “I knew this meal was a mistake. I just wanted to spoil you some, get you everything you were craving. Should have known better.” He crouched by Alistair’s chair and began rubbing his back.

“I should have- hiccup! - stopped long before I- HIC! - did. But I was enjoying it so much.” Alistair clutched his belly and groaned as his insides grumbled audibly. “Oh this feels -“ he burped loudly, “this feels awful. Hiccup!”

“I’m sorry you’re not well, sweetheart. What can I do for you?” Ben asked with concern.

The pain and churning in Alistair’s belly took on a nauseous edge, making the blood rush from his head and his vision darken at the edges. He pressed a hand to his mouth and tried to breathe slowly through his nose but the nausea only intensified. “Oh, Ben,” he moaned, “I think I’m going to be sick.”

Ben was on his feet quickly. “Do you want me to help you to the bathroom or find you a bucket?”

“I-“ Alistair was interrupted by a belch that brought some of the contents of his stomach to the back of his throat. He swallowed with a grimace. “Ugh, bathroom please.”

Ben wrapped an arm around Alistair’s back, hauling him up. Alistair cradled his heavy belly with one hand, holding on tightly to Ben with the other. Standing seemed to make the liquid pain reach new parts of his belly and he stifled a sob. Alistair started moving towards the bathroom, leaning heavily on Ben and holding his belly with both hands. He paused for another wet belch then hurried on as much as he could.

They reached the bathroom and Ben helped Alistair lower himself to his knees in front of the toilet. Alistair moaned and belched, gripping his belly. He closed his eyes as the churning intensified, and then the contents of his stomach were burning up his throat and spilling out of him. Alistair gagged and heaved as his stomach contracted. When the flow stopped he was left panting for breath, and became aware of Ben rubbing his back and talking in a soothing tone. “Alright sweetheart, you’re ok. That’s it, get it out, you’ll feel better.”

Alistair grabbed some toilet paper to wipe his mouth and nose, then flushed the toilet. He turned to sit with his back against the cabinet.  He closed his eyes and burped, rubbing his belly gently. “Oh that was unpleasant,” he breathed.

“Do you think that’s it for now, sweetheart? Do you want some water?”

“Yes,” Alistair said, his voice hoarse. “Water please.” His stomach still ached badly but at least the churning had stopped. Ben handed him a cup of water and he swished some around his mouth, then spit it into the toilet. He hesitantly swallowed a small sip and got a painful cramp in response. Alistair groaned and handed the cup back to Ben.

“Do you want to stay here just in case, or can I help you to bed?”

Alistair weighed the pain in his stomach against the ache of his back and hips - ever-present during his pregnancy but much worse from sitting on the floor - and the cold, shivery feeling that was washing over him. “Bed, please. Everything hurts.”

 Alistair woke from a light doze with no sense of how long he had been out. He was lying on his side in bed under a warm blanket with a pillow tucked under his heavy belly and another between his knees. His head was in Ben’s lap and his partner was gently stroking the hair at his temple. He sighed, feeling generally comfortable, but tired and shaky. He drifted for a while, casually curious about what woke him, until he felt pain building again in his stomach. Alistair groaned quietly.

“Sweetheart?” Ben’s worried voice came from above him.

“My stomach still hurts.”

“I’m sorry, Al. Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Stay with me?” Alistair’s voice was tremulous.

Ben leaned down to kiss his head. “Of course I’m staying, sweetheart,” he admonished, “I wouldn’t be anywhere else.”

Alistair turned his head to kiss Ben’s thigh. “I’m sorry I made such a mess of myself.”

“It’s that poor stomach of yours that you have to apologize to, sweetheart, not me.”

Alistair grunted and shifted as his stomach cramped. “It’s certainly making it clear that it’s not happy with me.” He tried rubbing his belly, but the pain continued and after a few minutes the nausea was back as well. “Oh it’s getting worse again,” he groaned.

“I’m here, sweetheart,” Ben said, stroking his hair. “Anything you need, just tell me.”

Alistair’s stomach lurched and he felt bile pressing up his throat. “I think - ugh - I think I might be sick again. I need to go back to the bathroom,” Alistair said, pushing off the blanket and sitting up. The sloshy pain was increasing rapidly.

“I have a trash can right here if you’d rather use that.”

“No-“ his stomach gurgled and he belched, “no, I’d rather go to the bathroom.”

Ben quickly jumped into action, moving the pillows then helping Alistair move to the edge of the bed. Alistair paused before standing and reached urgently for the trash can which Ben handed to him. Alistair held it with one hand and clutched at his belly with the other. He gave a huge belch and dry-heaved several times. Ben sat next to him, rubbing his back.

“Think that was it?” Ben asked when Alistair put the trash can down.

Alistair shook his head. The nausea was outweighing the pain this time. He squeezed his eyes shut tightly and swallowed with effort. “No,” he gulped out. “Bathroom, please.”

Ben put Alistair’s arm over his shoulders and got both of them to their feet. Alistair’s vision blurred and his head swam. He sagged against Ben, certain he would have collapsed without the support.

“You’re ok, sweetheart, I’ve got you. Let’s get you to the bathroom, maybe you can empty your stomach this time and start to feel better.” They took tentative steps towards the bathroom until Alistair felt the nausea intensify and it drove him to hurry them the rest of the way to the toilet.

This time was harder. Alistair’s stomach squeezed hard, over and over again, bringing up every bit of his meal until he was left spitting bile, then dry heaving. When even the heaving had stopped, Alistair sat back, exhausted. Ben quickly flushed the toilet then placed a kiss on his partner’s sweaty temple. “I think that meal is better out than in. How are you feeling?”

Alistair took a deep breath. “Shaky,” he replied after a moment. “Tired. But my stomach is better. I needed that.”

“Good.”

Alistair heard the tap running, then Ben was gently wiping his face and neck with a warm, damp washcloth. “Thank you,” he murmured.

“Of course. Water?”

Alistair nodded and took the cup, rinsing his mouth. This time his tentative sip didn’t bother his stomach and he drank a little more.

“Ready for bed?” Ben asked. Alistair nodded again.

When they were situated in bed, Ben spooning Alistair with a warm and comforting hand on his belly, Alistair gave a sleepy sigh. “Ben?”

“Mm?”

“Next time I have a pregnancy craving, ignore me.”

Ben chuckled and kissed his shoulder blade. “Ok, sweetheart.”

[the-tummy-closet]

((Authors Note: So I wrote this and forgot to send it in...oops. Anyway, here's a story I'm actually really proud of and took me a while to do since I'm trying to balance telling a story and writing hunger. Hope you enjoy the story - RaccoonInk🦝))

Leo frantically turned down the stove, preventing the water in a big pot from boiling over. The hot water splashed a small amount on his pajama pants and t-shirt, luckily turning it warm upon contact with the clothing. He looked over the recipe again and double-checked the fettuccine to make sure it wasn’t sticking together in the water. Devon was at their job at the moment so Leo took it upon himself to make something for Devon and invite them over to his dorm for dinner. Devon's store manager has been forcing them to take on many abandoned shifts and work during their own as well. Since Devon started their break today, Leo thought a nice warm meal would be just the thing they needed.

There was only one problem.

He wasn't really the best in the kitchen.

"Shit!" Leo spat, jumping back slightly as flames arose from the chopped up chicken. He quickly removed the pan from the stove and set the chicken aside on a plate. "Of course, the one time I cook with white wine I almost burn myself, but at least it’s cooked...I hope. Come on Leo, focus."

Leo took a deep breath in, then out as he read over the recipe once more. "Alright, you can do this, just follow the recipe."

He poured olive oil and placed cubes of butter into the hot pan, letting it sizzle slightly. His eyes watered a bit as he slid the chopped garlic and onions into the sizzling mixture into the pot. Reaching over to his ingredients, Leo whisked in some flour in the pan until the sauce was smooth and slightly dimmed the flame on the stove. He then carefully measured out and added some dried italian herbs, mustard powder, salt and pepper to the sauce. He then turned his attention to the mountain of grated parmesan, read the recipe's measurements once more, then back at the grated cheese.

"Is...Is there this much cheese in this recipe? How did I not see that while I was grating it? Geez.. " He stared in awe at the big pile of grated parm, sighing in disbelief.  "Well, I'm not one to argue with the recipe, so in you go I guess." He cautiously folded in half the cheese in the sauce as he whisked it thoroughly.

A loud knock on the door made Leo jump, almost dropping his whisk on the floor. “It’s open.” He called, hearing the door open and close.

Leo looked over to see Devon as they staggered in the room and sat down at the table. Their black sweatpants and hoodie draped over them like a blanket as they laid their head down on the table.

"So," Leo spoke up, breaking the silence between the two, "How was work? I hear someone has a break after working so hard."

Devon groaned softly and turned their head towards Leo. "It’s barely a break, I get a week then it’s back to working 4 to 5 days a week for 6 to 7 hours a day. Not to mention, the shifts I had to pick up because people refuse to work and do nothing to get paid."

"Oh my," Leo said, folding in the other half of the cheese. "That manager of yours is making me upset and I do not even work there!"

Devon bitterly chuckled, holding their head in their hands. "How do you think I feel about that corporate bitch weasel? I swear if I had a better job that paid more, I’d leave this one in a heartbeat.”

"I am sure the manager will give you reduced hours if you feel overworked." Leo said, adding the strained pasta and chicken to the finished sauce.

"Yeah right, like he ever cares about us ‘little folk’." Devon grit their teeth, slowly clenching their hand into a fist. "He cares about meeting quotas and getting his fucking pay check, never how his employees are doing or care about their well being. He's the fucking reason I have to work on those stupid unassigned shifts on top of my shifts."

"You know, you don't have to work those hours if-"

"I need those fucking hours Leo!" Devon shouted as they slammed their hand on the table. Leo flinched at the sound as he turned his attention to Devon with a concerned look on his face. "I need those hours so I can pay for college, books, housing with my horrible roommate, ever dwindling food and lots of other stuff. I'm cleaned out from my final payment for the classes and still paying off my books!"

"Well I'm sure you can-"

"I have to get money somehow and if that means suffering at my job to get some cash, so be it. I can't even ask for money because that makes you look desperate and weak. I'm not desperate and weak. I can do this. I can take care of myself. I don't need doubt or pity from your mom since-"

Devon abruptly stops and sinks down in their seat, brewing in their shame. As Leo stirred the noodles and chicken into the creamy sauce and turned off the heat, the two of them sat in silence before Devon broke it with a small, shaky voice. "I'm...sorry for the outburst Leo, I shouldn’t snap at you like that. The stress has been...admittedly getting to me but that’s no excuse for what-"

Leo put the whisk down and walked over to Devon, hugging them tightly. "Shh, calm down, I am not her and she is not here, it is just you and me right now." Leo spoke quietly, putting a hand on Devon's head. "It's ok Devon, breathe for me. I'm always here for you when you need me. You know that, right?"

Devon looked away from Leo and sighed deeply, nodding their head slowly. A loud, empty groan pierced the silence between the two of them as Devon returned a groan of discomfort of their own.

"I...I didn't have a lunch break, worked through it again." Devon said softly, putting a hand on their stomach.

Leo sighed and stood up, wearing a slight frown on his face. "Devon, you have to take better care of yourself. I know you skip lunch breaks to work more or your garbage manager does not let you take lunch breaks but I still need you to take care of yourself...please.” Devon returned their own sigh and sank further into the chair with their head swimming in guilt. “Luckily, I did make you your favorite dish to cheer you up, fettuccine alfredo.”

Leo put the warm pot on the table and started setting the table with plates and cutlery. The delicious scent of the cheesy, garlic sauce filled the college room and made Devon gulp thickly. They were honestly thankful that Leo went through all this trouble to make them something to eat. They smiled to themselves thinking about all the screaming Leo did and how many times the smoke alarm went off while he cooked. But the smile went away as fast as it came, the guilt flooding back into Devon’s mind. Devon thought about how they would always barely eat or just skip meals all together to get to work on time. It's been so long since they had a decent meal or had free time to eat for that matter. Their hands gripped their arms as shame laid on them like a weighted blanket and tears stung their eyes.

"Am I...so weak and emotionally incapable that I need someone else to take care of me?" Devon thought silently, grimacing at the very thought.

Devon was snapped out of their thoughts by an agonizingly painful cramp ripping through their stomach, followed by a vicious, empty roar from the organ demanding the food in front of them. A plate which was overflowing with warm pasta and a glass of ice cold lemonade was placed in front of Devon. Leo sat down with his own bowl and cold drink, warmly smiled at Devon and started to eat.

“Go ahead, dig in.” Leo motioned Devon to eat as he ate another fork full of fettuccine. “I made this with you in mind and, honestly, I’m surprised I didn’t burn the kitchen down in the process. For my first time cooking unsupervised, I did pretty decent and it turned out pretty good so-”

A muffled sniffle interrupted Leo's attention as he looked over at Devon. Tears poured down Devon’s face as Devon quickly shoved the pasta into their mouth. Leo reached over and rubbed Devon’s back comfortingly, earning more tears and sorrowful sobs from them. Devon’s fork clanged as it was dropped on the table and they covered their face and let out a soft, frustrated groan.

"I'm sorry, I-I'm so sorry." Devon sobbed. "I don't know what came over me or why I started c-crying. It's stupid but it won't happen-”

"Hey, it's ok, just let it out. You are safe here with me.” Leo said, brushing away Devon’s tears with his thumbs. “There is no shame in crying like that and I do not blame you for it. You are feeling overwhelmed right now, yes?" Devon nodded slowly, leaning into his palm. "Not eating consistently for at least a week can mess a person up physically and emotionally, that’s why I remind you to take care of yourself. But those reminders are not because you are weak, but because I care about you and I want the best for you. What matters right now is that you eat as much as you want and I won’t judge you, you deserve it. You get some more food in your belly and I’ll put on a movie when you are done eating, okay?”

Devon smiled slightly and nodded, leaning into Leo’s hand then turning back to their bowl. He sits beside Devon as they devour their pasta and their belly loudly grumbling for more. He laid a hand on their belly, feeling them shudder at his touch and the near constant rumbling underneath his hand. Leo took his hand off Devon’s belly and said, "I'll be right back." Devon nodded as they got themselves a second helping of pasta.

After gathering some pillows and a blanket from his bed, he walked back into the room and set them down on the couch. As Leo spread out the blanket, he heard a soft groan and the sound of a fork landing in an empty bowl.

“Are you all done?” Leo asked, walking over to Devon. After getting a hum of acknowledgement and a slight nod from Devon, Leo sat next to them and rubbed their back. “I am glad you liked the alfredo I made and happy that you finally ate something. You do not know how worried…” Leo trailed off as he looked over at the pot of pasta on the table.

The completely empty pot of pasta on the table.

"Did...Did you eat the whole pot?" Leo said, looking at Devon with pure astonishment.

Devon groaned pitifully, out of discomfort and slight embarrassment. "Y-Yeah."

"That was enough to feed a family of four."

"Y-Yeah."

"...I was gone for only 10 minutes."

“...sorry.”

“No no, no need to be sorry. I...knew you could eat a lot but I didn't know you could eat...this much.” Leo put a hand on Devon's back as they lean against him. "Are you ok because you look-"

Devon took Leo's hand off of their back and gingerly put it on their belly. Leo's eyes widened as he brushed his thumb on the side of their belly, earning a soft, pitiful whimper from Devon and a loud grumble from their stomach. It was tight as a drum and released whines and strained gurgles against his hand. With every noise their belly made, Devon's face twisted in slight pain and buried into Leo's shoulder.

"Are you going to be sick?" Leo asked. Devon shook their head as their overstuffed belly grumbled loudly. “You poor thing, you ate yourself into a tummy ache.”

“Don’t say it like that.” Devon groaned, slightly muffled by Leo’s shoulder. “It’s embarrassing.”

"Aw, is it such a bad thing to call it like you see it? I have not seen you this stuffed since we were kids." Leo chuckled, his laugh rumbling in Devon’s ears. "I know how to take care of your tummy aches but this is the fullest I have ever seen you. Here, let’s get you onto the couch so you can relax." He carefully scooped up Devon in his arms, careful not to upset their belly further. As he reached the couch, he gingerly sat them down next to him. Devon whimpered pitifully as they leaned against Leo and looked at him with big pleading eyes. Leo smiled sympathetically, slipping his hand underneath their hoodie and on their taut belly. He let his hand glide over the swollen curve of their belly, hearing it rumble and groan loudly as it struggled to digest all the food.

“C-Careful!" Devon whined as they squirmed under his hand. "It h-hurts, be gentle."

Leo couldn't help but smile as he laid his hands on the side of their belly. "I will be more gentle. How is this?"

They groaned in ecstasy as they arched into Leo's hands and melted at his touch. "That's better. Ugh, I'm never eating that fucking much ever again, I mean it."

"You say that every time you stuff yourself. I am sure you needed this after the week you had." Leo tenderly kneaded a tight spot on Devon's belly as it grumbled loudly and Devon sighed in relief. "See? You are safe here in my arms so you can relax while I find a movie for us to watch."

Devon nodded lazily as they laid their head on Leo's chest. After finding a movie, Leo put the remote on the floor and continued to rub Devon’s belly.

"T-Thank you Leo, for everything." Devon said softly, their eyelids becoming heavy.

"My pleasure Devon." Leo said as he rested his head on the edge of the couch.

Devon began to watch the movie but fought to stay awake. Eventually, sleep overtook Devon and they drifted to sleep, finally full and happy.