Venus Vomit Club

age 29 Love & Deepspace Emetophilia sickfic page. 🔞 NSFW‼️‼️‼️ NO KINK SHAMING main blog: venusvore Twitter accounts: @sylussickkitten @stayrussimp https://archiveofourown.org/users/Venusvoyd/works

[venusvomclub]

HELLO 😇

I've made this page spacifically for Emetophilia / sickfic content

My fics are centered around love & deespace but I will reblog all kinds of Emeto content on this page.

(If you want only the LADS content follow my other blog Venusvore, I post all my works there including sickfics)

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT‼️‼️‼️

Will add masterlist here at some point.

[venusvomclub]

Serious question.

How do we think Sylus sounds when he throws up..?

I feel like his gags would be like near silent, he would try to not make much sound at all but maybe little growls of frustration..?

But dry heaving 🫠🫠🫠 now thats completely different...

I can't stop wondering, I've searched through so much content looking for any sound that even comes close to that but have found little to work with.

[feelingpoorly]

Why is there literally nothing hotter than a cute guy curled over the toilet, pale, utterly exhausted and dripping with sweat, fighting a nasty stomach bug

[alynnia]

So Rafayel and MC merge souls during the battle sequence.

So that means with Sylus in there too, it's a three-way and my CrowFish shipping deepens. 😤

I have no interest in pulling, but I am very amused by the idea of both Sylus and MC bullying Rafayel inside his head.

[lisupanddown]

Gagging

Don't get me wrong, I'm a huge sucker for someone burping when they don't feel well - on purpose to try to release some pressure, as a precursor to puking, dry and under the breath, deep and wet, you name it. But gagging . . .

I love that in the moment of the gag, there's nothing else the person can focus on - your body is absolutely not your own and there's that little moment of complete unawareness of your surroundings. And you can force a gag - with fingers or objects or whatever - but they are much harder to hold down than burps are. If your body needs to gag, it's going to gag.

And you rarely feel better afterwards. Some gags may be a "one and done," but what I really love are those gags that lead to more - the heaviness in the jaw, another gag, a swallow, gagging again, and then deeper - that retch that tells you you aren't going to be able to keep your stomach contents down much longer. And then, those involuntary contractions of your stomach after a round of vomiting, and those moments where you're nearly frozen, unable to get anything else up, unable to catch your breath, unable to do anything but give into to your body's need to gag, and gag, and gag . . .

[areyougonnathrowup]

imagine ur fave feeling nauseous in the car, resting their clammy forehead against the cool glass, keeping the window slightly cracked for fresh air. swallowing thickly, every jerk and turn making their nausea that much worse. up to your imagination if they throw up all over themselves, on the side of the door and not being able to get it open fast enough, or if they're successful and make it out of the door after pulling over

[areyougonnathrowup]

bringing this back because it’s been on my mind recently

[kory-ann-der]

Been thinking a lot about someone having to stop in the middle of a sentence to gag. They’re able to swallow it down the first few times, but how many times more until it all spills out?

[venusvomclub]

WHAT IF A VORE OVERATE AND GOT SICK.

CW: EMETOPHOBIA WARNING!! HUMAN CONSUMPTION!!! VORE!!!

I am a certified monster fucker so this idea really hit the spot for me.

They wake up to their mountain of a belly gurgling and seeing the vibrations, feeling the half digested whole humans churning in their gut.

The round tummy rumbles more urgently, tightening up and drawing in a bit, sending a wave of panic through the creature.

Maybe they burp and feel a bone brushing against their insides or the back of their throat and force themselves to sit up a bit, swallowing against it not wanting to purge their latest feast.

They were about to make a humongous mess.

A ripple of pressure starts from deep inside and surges upwards, knowing them forward a bit as a trickle of red hits the ground under them.

A gush of blood and gore with bits of bones and hair come next. The creature watches in horror as the stream thickens, hands on their convulsing stomach feeling body parts slide against their insides.

....and then.... once its all out they realize they've just overeaten, the scent of blood and lifeforce draws them in. They sloppily devour most of it, being mindful of their limits now and decide to just go back to sleep in the remnants.

[ravenousrampage]

Sleeping off a huge meal is so cute tho

character resting somewhere with a big meal in their belly (food, person, idk what have you). Digestion is an intensive process and, faced with such a task, all resources are going into tackling the contents in their stomach.

Just sleepily chugging away, glorps and gurgles from their swollen middle as it digests everything. Little shifts to get comfortable, maybe giving their stomach a pat/letting out a hiccup as they doze

[venusvomclub]

The (food / PEOPLE) inspired me to write a vore overeating. 😝😝🥰

[cutting4me]

hearing a boy gag and groan a little before throwing up is better than the actual vomit Ok sorry

[areyougonnathrowup]

something about the visualisation of hot saliva pooling in someone's mouth before they throw up.. yeah, you know what, hell yeah

[not-feeling-good]

Sick sibling

Unable to count on their neglectful mother, Anita tends to her brother when he goes to bed sick after supper.

If you’re not into emetophilia, stay away.  This story includes graphic descriptions of throwing up.

[Note: Juan is a senior in high school and Anita is a sophomore. Their relationship is 100% platonic. My style of emeto content is not sexual.]

Anita noticed how little Juan ate for supper, even if their mother didn't. He disappeared into his bedroom immediately after leaving the table, too.

Once cleanup was done, Anita stuck her head in the bedroom door and saw her brother curled up almost in the fetal position with his arms wrapped around his stomach. He was frowning deeply and couldn't quite keep his feet still.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

He shook his head.

"You don't look good."

"Don't feel good."

"Anything I can do?"

"Do we have any Pepto?"

"I'll look."

She went into the bathroom and checked the cabinet. The only bottle there was essentially empty, with maybe a few drops in the bottom. She carefully rinsed it out and brought her brother a cup of pink-tinged water.

"That's it?" he said with a quiet moan.

"Afraid so. The stores are all closed or I'd go get more, but…"

"S'okay. Thanks." He took the cup, hesitated, then slammed it back.

Anita left him to rest and did some homework at the table. A half hour later, she returned to peek in on him. "Any better?"

Juan was even paler now, squirming miserably and pressing his knuckles against his lips. He shook his head decisively.

"You must be coming down with something."

"Can you--" He cut himself off with a hard swallow. "Bring me something?"

"Sure. What do you want?"

He leaned slightly over the edge of the mattress. "Something to puke in," he managed to get out before audibly gulping.

She swore and dashed to grab the garbage can. It unfortunately held the remnants of their supper, but she didn't want to take the time to empty it. "Here!" She set the can on the floor beside his head, and Juan eagerly grabbed it with both hands, bringing it under his chin.

"It really sucks that you're that sick," she said.

He spat out the bubbly froth that had been building up in his mouth, then coughed a few times before falling still. "Stomach hurts so bad," he muttered.

She made a sympathetic noise.

He moaned, rocking slightly with the waves of nausea while hanging onto the sides of the can with both hands. A silent gag made him open his mouth, but nothing came out.

His sister came over and bent down to rub his shoulder. "It's okay. Get it out of there. You might feel better afterward."

"I know," he said before coughing a little. "It's so close, I…" A noise like a hiccup interrupted him, and he let his mouth hang open.

She hummed a vague, comforting tune as she rubbed his back.

A hoarse retch came from deep in his throat, and he perked up in anticipation of relief. The motion repeated three times, each stronger than the last, before a half-mouthful of pinkish-brown sludge came up and pattered into the can.

"Good, good, keep it coming," his sister encouraged.

He coughed a bit, then groaned.

"Come on, I know you ate more than that," she said, patting firmly between his shoulder blades.

"Ugh…that tasted almost as bad as the can smells," he said, making gooey strings of saliva swing back and forth from his chin.

"It's a start."

His neck muscles pulsed subtly as his body prepared for the main event. A rasping heave made him bend closer to the can and let out a vigorous spurt of runny vomit. Over and over he lurched with painful spasms, emptying his stomach in a slimy flood.

"What's that noise?" their mother called from her own bedroom.

"Juan is throwing up!" Anita hollered back.

Their mother didn't answer. The siblings didn't expect her to.

Juan barfed until only scorching liquid gurgled up his aching throat, then reached for a tissue. "Well, that sucked," he said hoarsely.

"Feel any better?"

"Yeah. Sorta. Still sick, but the pain isn't so bad. Ugh!"

She brought him some water, which he sipped until he was sure it would stay down. "Thanks. For everything," he murmured as he pressed his cheek into his pillow.

"Don't mention it, bro," she said, ruffling his hair. "Ooh, you're running a fever."

He moaned vaguely.

She ended up spending most of the night at his bedside, bringing him water and cold compresses, then some crackers, then a freshly-emptied garbage can to throw the crackers up into. Fortunately for both of them, he was feeling better by the following evening.

[ekay-i]

CrowFish as HuaLian

I saw Rafayel's a Martial God and this is all I can think about.

[syln109z]

Distracting the Boss

Sylus had been working for nearly an hour when you decided you had suffered enough.

The study was quiet save for the occasional click of his keyboard and the faint rustle of paperwork.

He sat behind his desk, sleeves rolled to his forearms, silver hair falling slightly over his eyes as he reviewed a report with the sort of concentration that made interruption feel almost criminal.

Almost.

You approached without a word.

Sylus glanced up.

His crimson eyes followed you as you came around the desk.

“What are you doing?”

You didn't answer.

Instead, you slipped between his knees and carefully lowered yourself onto his lap.

For perhaps three seconds, he simply stared at you.

Then one dark eyebrow lifted.

“Bold.”

You smiled innocently, wrapping your arms loosely around his shoulders.

“I missed you.”

“You saw me twenty minutes ago.”

“That was twenty minutes too long.”

A quiet huff of amusement escaped him.

His hand settled naturally against your waist, though his other remained stubbornly on the mouse.

“You're aware I'm working, kitten.”

“Mhm.”

“And yet you're sitting on me.”

“Mhm.”

“And you have no intention of moving.”

You shook your head.

“None.”

Sylus studied you for another moment before turning his attention back to the screen.

“Fine.”

You blinked.

Fine?

He actually returned to work.

You frowned, shifting slightly in his lap.

His hand immediately tightened around your waist.

“Careful.”

“You're ignoring me.”

“I'm working.”

“You can multitask.”

“I can.”

His fingers moved across the keyboard.

“You're simply not making a very convincing argument for why I should.”

You narrowed your eyes.

So this was how he wanted to play.

You leaned forward, resting your chin against his shoulder.

Sylus continued reading.

You pressed a kiss to his cheek.

Nothing.

Another to his jaw.

Still nothing.

You kissed the corner of his mouth.

His typing stopped.

Slowly, Sylus turned his head toward you.

There it was.

That look.

The faintest hint of a smirk curved his lips.

“Finished?”

“No.”

You kissed him properly this time, lingering just long enough to make his composure crack.

When you pulled away, his crimson eyes were fixed entirely on you.

“That's better,” you whispered.

“I see.”

His hand slid from your waist to the small of your back, pulling you closer until there was no space left between you.

“You've finally managed to identify the flaw in my productivity.”

You smiled.

“What flaw?”

“You.”

His lips brushed your forehead.

“Terribly distracting.”

You beamed.

“Good.”

Sylus sighed as though deeply inconvenienced, though the warmth in his expression betrayed him.

He closed the laptop.

“There.”

You looked at it, then back at him.

“Done?”

“No.”

He lifted you slightly, settling you more comfortably against his chest.

“But apparently I've been given a more important assignment.”

You laughed softly.

“And what's that?”

His arms tightened around you.

“Keeping my troublesome little kitten happy.”

[venusvomclub]

I am not into emetophilia but I wholeheartedly support u imposing it onto the lads LIs especially if you are shipping the guys together. Niche kinks are necessary for a healthy fandom ecosystem and you are doing a public service. I hope u find a bajillion little freaks who are also into this. Not the hero we deserve but the hero we need 🫡🫡

Thank you 🥹🥹🥹

I have found 5 so far but I'm hoping to find more. I've been told I'm the only one who writes these so I'm REALLY hoping I can find someone else who also does.

🥰🥰🥰 much love

[thehouseofwhump]

Nausea Tropes I’m in Love With

• When the whumpee is vomiting and hunched over the toilet, but uses one hand to point to the whumper, or to direct the whumper to get something that they need.

• When the whumpee is coughing so hard to the point of a gag reflex, that eventually leads to vomiting.

• When the whumpee vomits into their hands, cause prior they were already covering their mouth.

• When the whumpee throws up mid-sentence, like they were trying to keep talking or explaining whatever it was before they got sick.

• When a whumpee is trying to speak, but then just keeps gagging in between words.

• When a whumpee thinks they are done vomiting, but their body says otherwise and they continue puking…

• When the nausea builds for a long time. The dry swallowing, gulping, breaking into a cold sweat, and then finally hits hard.

→ Bonus for audible stomach gurgling.

• When the whumpee apologizes between heaves and retches.

→ “I’m sorry, I can’t-ugh-’m sorry…”

• When they’re feverish and confused, and don’t even realize they’re sick until they’re throwing up.

• When the whumpee gags just at the smell of food or something nearby, showing how raw their stomach is.

[emetouniverse]

Imagine making out with your fave right before they puke. Their mouth is so dense and warm and sticky. They’re shaking a little. Every time you break apart, they are stifling burps. While you’re kissing them really hard, you feel them jerk, you feel the reverberations of a gag. You pull away. The threads of saliva connecting their mouth to yours are severed as they bury their head in the toilet with a watery belch. You watch their head snap down with the force of another heave, this one accompanied by a loud retch, then the sound of vomit hitting the water. You rub their back with one hand while your free fingers rub absentmindedly between your legs. You’re drenched.