thinking of a scenario where your s/o had taken a bunch of laxatives or had just eaten a bunch of ice cream, and their belly is all nice and round. they lay on the bed rubbing their round belly as it starts to gurgle louder and louder, leading to long and hard growls. they moan after each growl.
you walk in and you can her their stomach growling loudly, so you go over to them and start rubbing it. you can feel all the growls and gurgles under your hand too.
you suddenly start to press and push on their stomach, earning deep churns and gurgles from their belly and moans from them. “d-don’t push too hard..” they say, but you don’t listen and you end up pushing harder, making their laxative/ice cream filled belly growl harder and louder..
*GRRRRGGGLLLRGGLLEEE*
they wince at the strong growl, and clutch their stomach. they blush hard as they see you stare at their struggling and grumbling belly.
What’s up I’m ThiqqBabey, I’m 21 I use she/her and I’m bi!
First and foremost, NO MINORS. This is not a safe space for you, I don’t want children interacting with me or my kink content so kindly go away <3
My DMs are open, however, this does nit mean you can come in and start dumping all your kink related shit onto me. Introduce yourself, and we’ll go from there :)
What’s good?
Tummy aches
Intox
Praise
Dom feedee/sub feeder
Any And All Noises
Soft feederism (I’m coming from a feeder/ffa position)
Belly rubs
Overall admiring chubby bodies✨
What’s not?
Intense weight gain/immobility
Emeto and scat
Forced anything
Gas
Degrading/humiliation(feedism context)
Vore
That’s pretty much it, just be respectful while you’re here :))
passionate, post-stuffing makeout sessions. lying on top of them, feeling their too-full tummy grumble and groan underneath your weight. straddling them, rocking your hips against their belly.
Pls I want to feel him full and satiated under me, I want to push my hips forward into him just to hear a gasp, followed by a deep exhale trailing off into a soft “…ooooh”
I want to feel him as he leans back in a too full daze boarding on sleepy and Dali g into a food coma, letting out soft moans as I gently caress every bit of him
Okay okay so I was on a plane earlier and I had a thought
You know how gas expands on planes?? I was just thinking of like what if youre travel king with your partner and it’s a long flight, and they sorta tease you by leaning over and whispering shit like “it’s really rumbling in here” and like discreetly pulls your hand over to feel their hardened belly full of the trapped gas and you can for sure feel e v e r y t h i n g going on, and they think it’s adorable the way you get all flushed, and they continue to hold your hand on their belly malt every with a blanket over for privacy, and every time they feel it start to churn they press your ha d deeper in to feel the vibration? But what if they didn’t stop there? What if they love to tease you about this stuff so much that when drinks start making rounds they get a full can of something carbonated and just CHUG that shit. They may quietly burp under their breath but that doesnt change the absolute chaos going on in their belly, and they continue to whisper softly in your ear the phrases that just hit different like “can you rub my belly? It’s do tight”, “oof I bet everyone heard that”, “it’s so noisy in my tummy” etc
idk I just love the idea and it scratches the part of my brain that loves being a submissive feeder/admirer and the person knowing how in love I am w/ their belly just teases and loves it
I’m such a sucker for the word “upset” when talking about how your stomach is feeling. Like, it’s so cute that it’s described as ‘upset’. I live for that shit.
This is a foreign channel, and I don’t want to attempt and butcher the name, but all the videos have amazing hunger audio! I relisten to them all the time.
Some of my fave stuff in stomachache scenes bc I’m so thirsty rn
●"Whoa fuck, was that your stomach?“
●Nightmares caused by indigestion (!!!)
●Anything with 2+ characters in bed with one or more of them suffering from a harsh stomach ache and the other(s) offering cuddles, kisses, and comfort
●Platonic stuff where the characters know each other so well they can tell when their stomach is bothering them, and they’re so intimate they barely have to ask to rub their friend’s upset stomach
●Anything with ears pressed against an upset, bloated belly, listening to the bubbles and gurgles and feeling it vibrate
●Little whines, moans, whimpers, any noise that shows discomfort really
●Hands laid flat against an upset stomach before slowly starting to rub gentle circles over it
●Kisses!!! Wherever will calm the character down the most (belly, neck, cheeks, nose, forehead, anywhere really)
●When a character’s stomach is hurting so bad they legit start to tear up and sob (and maybe they’re unable to get up/move)
●Being woken up by an upset stomach and feeling like they have been stabbed
●Weakly trying to eat or drink, knowing they need to but being in almost too much pain to move
●Trying to hide their stomach is upset but it’s so noisy they have to admit they’re sick
●Laying a hand over their stomach when it starts to hurt, a surprised look on their face that quickly turns into a pained look
●Drinking soda or anything carbonated to help them burp so they can get some relief
●Having to be carried to bed because their stomach hurts too much to walk
Summary: (Based off of a request from a precious anon for a feverish pukey Noam and Ellis being the mommy he basically is <3)
Noam had the type of obedience that overruled his feelings. So when Ellis told him to eat more soup, he ate more soup…
____
It was around 11pm when Noam appeared in the living room. Ellis wondered how long he’d been standing there. Noam had his comforter bunched up under his arm and a pillow hanging from his hand. Ever since he was as little as four years old, Noam could find Ellis up late at night watching tv. The eldest would gather Noam’s small body up in his arms, put him over his lap and rub his back. Even now, at 17, as tall and as lanky as he was, Noam would still bunch his body over his brother’s lap for the comfort.
For most of the night, Ellis had been alone lounging on the couch watching movies. No one seemed to want to join him tonight; Gideon could be heard singing with his guitar upstairs in his room. And Noam was supposed to be asleep.
When Ellis finally noticed Noam standing at the doorway, he frowned a little. He watched Noam plop himself next to him, a little sweaty and pale, with the collar of his loose cotton tee drooping a bit off his shoulder. His lips were pressed together and turned up in a sour grimace right as Ellis heard his stomach suddenly turn with a low squelch.
Noam could feel Ellis’s hand rest on his head. “Stomach still bothering you?”
He only answered with a nod. His stomach was knotting itself into a cramp. He had to bring his knees to his chest for some relief. It moved through him so slowly that it was nauseating to breathe through. He could feel Ellis crouching over him in concern, lightly brushing grazing circlers on his back.
When the cramp finally eased off, Noam lifted his head and puffed out a shaky exhale. With a dry swallow, he pressed a hand on his stomach. It was tight, full of the liquids he’d been forcing himself to consume all day despite his nonexistent appetite. His stomach was giving him problems all afternoon at work earlier. He figured it was just the result of indigestion from eating pizza late the previous night, an indulgence he rarely took part in; Noam’s stomach had proven to be more sensitive than his brothers. Ellis had made his baby brother soup with plenty of greens and veggies when he returned home that afternoon, said it would help his digestion. Noam had nothing but bowls of that and Gatorade for the rest of the day.
Noam had the type of obedience that overruled his feelings. So when Ellis told him to eat more soup, he ate more soup; Ellis always had Noam’s best interest in mind, after all. He was so sure the soup would work.
“I feel worse than this morning.” Noam mumbled. He leaned against the sofa cushions and let his head fall back, blowing up at his bangs to get them out of his face. Ellis pushed them out of the way for him, passing his hand through coffee brown hair a few times.
“I’m sorry to hear that, nono.” Ellis said, pecking Noam’s clammy temple. Noam flinched a little, his stomach emitting another low rumble. Ellis stayed close, calmly unfazed.
“I’m pretty sure this isn’t indigestion anymore.” Noam moaned, his Adam’s apple exposed and bobbing.
“I’d have to agree with you on that, unfortunately.” He touched his neck, then his forehead, but the warmth coming off his body was enough to confirm he was feverish. Whenever Noam got hot or had a fever, color rose in his cheeks and ran across his nose. Gideon often teased him by saying he looked like a bunny, which irritated Noam to no end, since he’d been trying to grow out of his naturally baby-like face since he hit puberty.
“It’s probably not smart to be so close then.”
“Eh, probably not,” Ellis said, but he wrapped his arms around his brother’s shoulders and gave him a squeeze. “I’m pretty sure I’m immune to you by now. You’re basically my child.” This made Noam laugh a little, but then he swallowed convulsively when a wave of nausea rudely washed through him. A sour burp gurgled up his chest and he turned away so it wouldn’t blow in Ellis’s face. And then another one tore through him, all wet and heavy, and it brought up some acidic Gatorade that he had to swallow down. Ellis kept him steady, giving his shoulders a squeeze.
“You okay?” Which, at this point, meant you’re not about to throw up, are you?
Noam nodded again, keeping his lips pressed together. He swallowed hard with a grimace. “Yeah, I think I’m good.” He weakly said through his teeth. Ellis started to get up.
“Let me get you some water. And probably some Pepto too, right?”
“I’ll get it. I can’t stay still right now,” Noam said, using Ellis’s shoulder to push himself up. “Stomach’s cramping and stuff.” Ellis could hear the heavy pattern of his breathing. Sounded like he was struggling to keep his stomach out of his throat. Noam stuck a hand up his shirt and Ellis caught a glimpse of his brother’s swollen middle before he wobbled out of sight to the kitchen.
“Jeezis, that looks like it hurts, Nono,” Ellis exclaimed, his eyebrows knitting together in surprise. He twisted himself around so he could keep his brother in sight as he fished around the fridge for a tall water bottle.
“Take a full cap of it.” Ellis instructed, once he told Noam where to find the Pepto.
Noam drank more than half of the bottle of water with the Pepto, which did nothing but seem to rile his insides even more. His intestines were downright angry with him. He’d spent the next 15 minutes pacing from the kitchen to the living room, stopping to bend over the nearest surface or curl over himself each time a cramp rippled through him. They’d become so frequent that he was becoming uncharacteristically vocal about it, panting harshly and moaning deep in his throat from the pain. Ellis could only helplessly hover, since Noam seemed so irritable with how he was feeling, he didn’t want to be touched.
____
“God.” Ellis heard Noam hiss before he disappeared into the bathroom down the hall. Ellis hurried after him, but Noam had quickly locked the door.
“Noam,”
Liquid could be heard pouring into the toilet bowl, splashing and plopping after short pauses. Noam was groaning, whispering words of distress to himself. He sounded muffled, like he might be biting his hand or something. Ellis tried the door again.
“Hey, Noam?” Noam’s trembling panting was putting his older brother in a panic. He hoped it hadn’t shown in his voice. That was the last thing Noam needed.
“Just gimme a minute, Ellis. Please, just—privacy please?”
“Oh, oh my god. Sorry, okay. Call for me if you need me. I’ll be on the couch.” Ellis had to wrench himself from the door, he felt so bad. It killed him to hear Noam in pain, but he forced himself to be calm.
30 minutes later, Noam finally came back to the couch, looking shaky and grey. His full lips were pale. Ellis had been itching to check on him, so the moment Noam sat back down, Ellis’s hands were busy examining him. He lifted Noam’s shirt, discouraged by how bloated he still was.
Noam bent over to get the water bottle on the floor, bringing it to his lips. The water cooled down the burning in his throat, but it added to the fullness he still felt. Ellis’s hand went back to Noam’s back gently.
“How’s your stomach?” In which Noam just shook his head and closed his eyes.
“Cramping stopped, but now I’m just nauseous. Like,” he swallowed dryly. “Really nauseous.“
“Better or worse?”
“Worse.” He answered with a pout. Ellis kissed the side of his head again.
“I’m so sorry, yobo.”
Noam whimpered a little and placed his pillow on Ellis’s lap. Ellis opened up expectedly and invited Noam to curl across him. The moment the pressure of the pillow was on his stomach, a belch rolled right out of him. His body shuddered; it can’t have felt good, but it was bringing up the trapped air. Ellis made a sympathetic noise and pushed up his brother’s shirt, working his hand over the expanse of his warm back. Periodically, he gave him a few pats, and Noam’s stomach would gurgle into the pillow before his spine would ripple and another sharp belch would hurtle out of him.
Ellis tried to distract Noam with a movie, but his brother was too nauseated to focus, throat too tight to even make a comment, so Ellis kept a soothing hand on Noam’s skin, dragging his fingers up and down his spine.
Gideon came downstairs for a snack right when Noam started getting noticeably worse. His hiccups were getting deeper and his burps were starting to bring up more than air that he was struggling to swallow down. He lifted himself from the pillow, breathing through his nose. Looking completely frustrated with himself, he looked sullenly at his brother with glazed over hazel eyes before pressing himself into Ellis and hiding his face into his chest.
“Oh my baby.” Ellis crooned, rocking Noam a little. He could feel Noam’s active stomach sloshing against his own. Noam audibly swallowed something that must’ve risen when his abdomen clenched. He let out a shallow gag and pressed his face into Ellis’s warm neck. He had Ellis’s shirt clenched in his fists.
“Ellis,” he gasped out. His voice was quaking. “I need—,” but then something gurgled up his chest and abruptly escaped him with a wet but unproductive heave. It was so violent, Noam’s body had lurched over the couch. Ellis grabbed him so he wouldn’t go falling on his face.
“Oh crap—Giddy, I need something now. Noam’s throwing up.”
Gideon knew Noam hadn’t been feeling well, but he was shocked to hear Ellis calling for him past Noam’s sudden retches that cut through the air.
With a burning belch, Noam heaved over the couch, sending a torrent of liquid splattering onto the ground. Ellis was rubbing his shoulder blades, doing what he could while still being pinned down by Noam’s shaking body. Gideon hurried over with a trashcan. Thank God, they had hardwood floors; a wide puddle of chunky broth and Gatorade now littered the floor, seeping under the couch.
“Shit, okay,” Gideon shoved the trashcan under Noam’s dripping lips, right before his head disappeared into the bin with a forceful heave. Gideon placed a steadying hand on Noam’s shoulder. It scared him a little. Noam’s heaves were hitting him so rapidly, he could barely take in a breath. His throat made a strangled whimper.
“Shh, it’s okay, Noam. You’re okay, yobo. Breathe when you can, you’re alright.” Ellis whispered, pressing kisses into his baby brother’s shoulder. Noam’s stomach was clenching relentlessly against Ellis’s.
“You’re okay. Just get it out. You’re alright.” Gideon added. He stayed close until Noam’s gagging had gone dry. Ellis gently coaxed Noam to get up so they could get him to the bathroom, holding Noam close to him while he turned him around. Gideon quickly came around the couch to lift one of Noam’s arms to get him to stand.
The moment he stood, Noam let out a sob before lurching forward yet again, more liquid pouring past his lips and into the trashcan. Both brothers stood with him, holding him as belches wracked his body. Ellis had a hand on Noam’s stomach. It had gone down some, but was still alarmingly puffy and it was writhing into his palm. He was still bringing up surprising amounts of vomit; the bin was getting heavy with how full it was getting.
Just when it seemed like Noam was done, lifting his head and looking ahead hazily, nose dripping with snot and eye’s red and tearful, he jolted with a hiccup and curled over with a retch so deep his ears turned red.
The convulsions made his knees buckle under him. Ellis followed him down while Noam held onto the bin with a shaking death grip. He was panting into it, his breathes agitating the plastic bag lining of the container. Gideon had taken to rubbing his back, eyes wide with concern, because now he was scared. Noam was alarmingly, violently sick. His skin was burning.
Ellis used his other hand to run his fingers through Noam’s now sweaty hair. Gideon watched as he asked Noam questions to see what he was feeling, what he might need from them, and he was completely unresponsive. All he seemed able to do was keep himself from falling over. A string of thick saliva dangled past his open mouth. His eyes looked vacant.
Ellis set his jaw and got up, urging Gideon to stay with Noam while he grabbed his keys, his wallet, put on his shoes. He shoved a baseball cap on his head and crouched down to have Gideon lift Noam onto his back.
“Call mom for me,” Ellis said, already heading to the front door. Gideon nodded, getting his shoes. “Tell her to meet us at the emergency room.”
This is the best one yet omg I loved it was so descriptive and visual and ugh I can’t form words for how good this is!
The young man huffs, but his mouth opens obediently when Azzy offers up another forkful of cake. Already his stomach is swollen tight enough that he’s had to unbutton his jeans. He holds it tightly as it cramps, even as he takes another bite.
Azzy’s pretty sure the boy’s never done this kind of thing before. It’s not like it’s a commonplace occurrence within the mainstream bdsm community he hails from. But he’s more than willing to give it a try, and despite the slightly ill expression on his face, he seems to be enjoying himself just fine.
Azzy brings another bite to the boy’s lips. This time, he opens his mouth and is startled by a sudden, substantial-sounding burp.
He moans, a hand still pressed to his stomach. “Excuse me.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Azzy says.
The guy’s beginning to swallow convulsively as his stomach protests.
“I’m not feeling so good anymore,” he says, a little breathless. He’s starting to sweat, stomach quivering with every nauseous gurgle. “Maybe we should take a break.”
“One more bite,” Azzy coaxes. He lifts a sizable forkful, and the boy takes it quickly, ready to be done. He can’t seem to swallow it, though. Each time he tries, his stomach convulses, trying to empty itself.
Azzy watches him struggle: first the swallow, then the small heave that has his cheeks ballooning in anticipation. It takes a few tries, but he finally gets it down. At least, at first. He belches suddenly, clapping his hand over his mouth.
“Shhh,” Azzy soothes. He strokes the guy’s stomach in an attempt to calm it. “Keep it down. You can do it. That’s a good boy.”
It takes a few minutes of Azzy massaging his stomach before the boy trusts himself to shakily lower his hands from his mouth.
“Good boy,” Azzy praises.
The boy looks well and truly sick. “I think I want to lie down now.”
Azzy kisses his cheek, one hand still teasing over the guy’s swollen stomach. “We can lie down now. I’d say you’ve earned that.”
Hunger pangs + the horrible cramps from gas stuck inside + the discomfort of being shoved full of eggs =
(Just give me smol boy curled into his overlarge sweater that’s stretched around his distended middle, sobbing in the library or bathroom, or writhing in bed, back arched and eggs clacking in his guts with every movement he makes)
I want your belly to be tight, packed to the absolute brim. Your skin tight as a drum, hearing the food you just wolfed down slosh and gurgle inside of you. You’d definitely be mistaken for pregnant if we went out right now, and that’s just the way you like it, don’t you? Now, open up. There’s still dessert.
Character A is a good cook. It’s just a hobby, but getting to come home every night and make themself a meal is a huge part of their routine.
Character B has never been much of an eater. Food is more of a utilitarian routine, a packet of noodles or a fried egg is dinner enough for them.
B and A have been dating for a good while, and have begun to dance around next steps. They decide to move in together, a nice little apartment with a beautiful kitchen.
Soon, B’s eating home cooked meals every night, and is in a dilemma. Their stomach’s not used to food that’s so heavy and rich, and not every night. They go to bed with an upset stomach more often than they’d care to admit— not wanting to hurt A’s feelings.
One night B’s had a tough day at work, they stress ate two burgers and a shake after they clocked out, and are feeling pretty lousy by the time they get home. Their gut is heavy and growling, they’re not used to such greasy food anymore. They walk into their apartment, hoping to just curl up and sleep their stomachache off. But they’re hit with a strong, savory aroma. A’s spent the evening prepping dinner— chicken soup and homemade bread. B can feel their stomach sinking.
They force down a slice of bread and butter, but the soup does not want to go down. The struggle through, keeping a straight face until they let out a loud, greasy belch, and A suddenly notices how bloated they look. They’re confused, but B explains. A takes B to bed. A tummy rub and discussion about food is in order.
Look me in the eyes and tell me this wouldn’t be great
A giant parfait with:
Three spirals of soft serve
Strawberries
Three packs of pocky
22 scoops of ice cream (if I remember correctly)
Cake chunks
Mini waffles
AND a bottom layer of strawberry whipped cream.
I mean a peep goes on a trip, tries some shit, and then they spy that beautiful thing.
And they just can’t pass this chance up, so they order it and go to town on it for as long as they can.
Maybe they skip on some of the pocky, making their way past the soft serve and onto all that ice cream. By now their stomach’s hurting for sure, but their determined to finish as much as they could.
And I could see this ending a couple of ways..
They could end up actually finishing it all, but ending up with a horrible stomach ache from all the sugar they stuffed in their gut. And they probably end up throwing it up, I doubt many people could process all that stuff.
Or maybe they get sick halfway through, their way overstuffed belly like, physically can’t hold anymore and they just end up losing it all over themselves in the middle of the shop or in a crowded space while they try to find a bathroom.
OR They just sorta give up, but of course they still feel awful. Their left with a bloated, noisy, very upset tummy for the rest of the day with little to no relief. Even belly rubs won’t work after they’ve eaten so much junk.
Sick queasy hiccups on a bloated upset belly are the cutest and it crushes me every single time
Someone’s tummy being so filled with pressure that their diaphragm starts to spasm to give the stomach brief moments of relief, but in turn with every hiccup the sick/stuffed individual only ends up adding more air to their belly and increasing the pain substantially.
The only way they can get some relief is through belly rubs that help them to burp or by throwing up
I don’t care how fucking full you are. It hurts doesnt it? Your poor abused belly so tightly packed with all the garbage I forced into you? Good. It will stay that way while I’m here. Now drink down that milk to top it off. I swear to god if you throw it back up you fill feel my wrath! Nothing goes to waste here! I want you to moan for me from being so bloated and full. I want your big piggy belly so sag to the floor! Yes, eat more for me! Gorge yourself on delicious carbs and lay there like a lazy fat cow. You better burp a little to make more room fatty. Holy fuck you’re so big now! So much food jammed into you I’m suprised you haven’t burst! I’ll just keep feeding you and forcing you to eat and eat and eat until you do! Maybe I want my fat little piggy to pop! ❤
When someone wraps their arm(s) protectively around their overstuffed belly ~ either to calm the ache or because they’re embarrassed about how much they ate
