#stirring my brain so fast he’s making a smoothie out of it

[wildsaltair]

HOT HOT HOT HOT SUPER HOT HOT HOTTTTT

[angy-mouse]

since boobberries doesn’t appreciate food cum, and i see you do, i’ll drop some thoughts.

smoothies. You know how Dream got Sapnap down 70lbs? Yeah. Imagine him making you and Sap smoothies every morning, leaving a little room on top to cum into, stirring it around before taking them into you. If you noticed a little off taste held blame the acidic fruit. He’d do it with anything he could get away with, making frosting, cake, pasta. It’d either be a bit of revenge or just a way to keep a little bit of him inside of you.

Note that while I appreciate food cum, I don't appreciate talk of weight loss and I've now added it to my 'no' list, but hopefully you'll still like this

“You two eat like shit,” Dream told you one day. He waved off yours and Sapnap’s protests, weakly defending your third fast food run of the week. “I’m in charge of food for now on and if I catch either of you cheating you’re gonna get the vibrator for a whole day.”

As reluctant as you both were to start these new eating habits, you quickly grew to look forward to Dream coming in with whatever he’d prepped for you- his cooking was absolutely addicting. Your favorite was his smoothies he fed you every morning: beautifully thick and creamy, you craved the tangy aftertaste and the way it coated your entire mouth- and you never tired of the thrilled look Dream gave when you showed him your empty glass and begged for seconds.

Not only did you and Sapnap love his cooking, Dream seemed to adore cooking for you. You two joked he had some health-centered version of a feederism kink, but agreed it probably fed into his dominant side: he liked to take care of you two. And what better way to take care of you than to shoo you both into the living room or your bedrooms while he made you a wonderful meal?

Of course, your curiosity soon got the best of you. You just had to know how he made everything so damn delicious. Asking him was no good, he simply chuckled and said it was a secret recipe. So you woke up early and snuck into the kitchen, hiding in the pantry and praying he didn’t need anything from it. The pantry door was made of a series of slanted pieces like window blinds instead of a solid piece, so you could just barely see out of it. You hadn’t told Sapnap of your plan, just in case he decided to rat you out for an extra serving, so all you had left to do was wait.

Dream came into the kitchen and set to work, making three completely normal smoothies. You were dumbfounded- had you just not had fruit in so long you forgot what it tasted like? If so that was embarrassing as hell and you would speak of this to no one. You scowled as he filled the third glass more than the others. That bastard was skimping out on you and Sap, you thought bitterly.

All other thoughts left you as he nonchalantly pulled his pants and boxers down below his ass, pulling out his throbbing red cock. You brought a hand to your mouth and bit down to keep quiet as you watched him jerk off right there in the kitchen, head thrown back as he groaned under his breath. You caught a few familiar phrases you heard often in the bedroom, mutterings of ‘good pet’ and ‘take it’ as he pumped himself.

The pieces finally clicked in your brain as he snatched a fourth glass and tucked the tip of his cock in it just as he came, hips jerking and gasping moans spilling from his lips as he filled the glass about halfway. Once he relaxed his breathing he calmly shook the last few drops clinging to his tip into the glass and poured it between yours and Sapnap’s smoothies, grinning wide as he stirred it in until it looked exactly how it arrived to your hand every morning. You watched as his cock twitched to life again, no doubt at the thought of you and Sapnap unknowingly drinking his cum and loving it. If it was anyone else you probably would have stormed out of the pantry, called them a sick pervert and moved out on the spot. But this was Dream, and everything seemed to go right for Dream.

You threw the pantry door open and within a second you were on your knees at Dream’s feet. “So that’s your ‘secret ingredient,’” you hummed, digging your nails into his thigh to hold him still as your other hand wrapped around his cock. He let out a stuttered gasp, staring down at you frozen with wide eyes and a dropped jaw, no doubt expecting a slap in the face. You placed a sweet kiss on his tip in an attempt to soothe him. “Mind if I get a sample?”

[falke-scribblings]

Nick was the one bedridden - but Judy thought she might be sick anyway.

His breathing was shallow and rhythmic, like he was focusing on keeping it steady. Every so often he would stop, long enough to swallow hard - and it was making her own stomach swim.

"I'm sorry about the smell, sweetheart."

"It's not your fault," he said. "Stop worrying about me. You need to eat, too."

It was mild, as scents went. Appetizing, even. They'd been slicing up chives and green peppers to go in the night's salad, until Nick had had to stop and crawl into bed. Judy had put everything in the fridge, but her apartment still smelled of their missed dinner.

She'd only ever had migraines a couple of times. And scents had never been the thing to make them worse. For her it was sound. But she remembered enough of the experiences to know that the cresting headache was singularly, ferociously painful - and that the nausea that came with it was just as bad, in its own way.

And she hazarded that was what they were both worried about right now: him that he might be sick, and her - that he might be sick. It was bad enough that she tended to hear everything, but it would be even worse because it would be Nick suffering through it. She didn't want to listen to that.

But she could hardly leave him to something so uncomfortable and frightening himself. Not when there was something she still might do for him. And there had to be something.

Now he was squeezing her paws like she was an anchor, so hard his own were shaking. The tension went all the way through his shoulders and neck.

She'd killed all the lights, but she couldn't do anything about the bright evening cityscape out the window. Her neighbors were blessedly absent for the night, but now that she and Nick were being quiet, every little sound jumped out at her.

She'd put a cool cloth over his eyes as a blindfold, too. But that was about everything she could do to help. It was too late for painkillers; he said it had come on too fast.

All that was left was to sit here and hold his paws, and rack her brain for the stresses that might have triggered this. They never brought paperwork home if they could help it, so that probably wasn't it. Were they getting enough sleep? How much water had Nick been drinking?

"Your bed smells like you," he said, out of nowhere.

"Sorry."

"No, it's good." Nick's chest rose and fell in a deep breath. "That's about the one thing that doesn't make me want to puke right now, so thank you."

"Shhh." He was slowly relaxing under her efforts. She put a careful paw against his neck and felt his pulse faster than usual. He swallowed. "You're doing okay. How's your cloth?"

"Good."

"Are you too hot? Too cold?"

"Fine."

"I could make a warm compress. There's more towels in the bathroom."

"Uh-uh." Nick grimaced under his blindfold, and breathed hard through his nose. Judy heard his legs sliding up under the thin sheet. "Is the trash can there?"

Oh, Nick. Now her own stomach turned. It took more guts than she wanted, to stay where she was. "Right here. Do you need it, sweetheart?"

"No, it's-" He let his head drop further back against the pillow. "It's okay." He swallowed again. "I just need time."

His paws were curling into fists again. Judy unstuck her own claws from the bedsheets and set about chasing the tension away, minute by slow minute, and got Nick to relax again.

This was so frustrating. Judy fixed things. She addressed problems until they weren't problems anymore. But Nick was trapped in his own head with the pain, and there was only so much she could do. She had made him as comfortable as she could. She had stayed with him, she hoped through the worst of it. Sympathy felt like a poor substitute for getting closer to him, but she couldn't risk it while just about everything made the pain and nausea worse.

Eventually Nick's breathing evened out - not deep, not slow, but it sounded less mechanical now. Hopefully he was dozing.

And if he really was asleep, she ought to leave him to it. Get out of his fur. She could go and think up some other way to help. She had the medical training; maybe she was missing something.

Or maybe there was someone with even more expertise who might have some ideas.

Judy crossed to the door, taking care to step over the creakiest plank on the left side of the entrance. There was no way to cut out the yellow light spilling in from the hallway, so she squeezed through the door as fast as she could, with one last glance back at Nick. He wasn't reacting to the brightness. That was good, probably.

She got some distance from her door, so she was closer to the stairs at the end of the hallway, and pulled out her phone.

"Jude!" Her sister Sharon answered the video call on the third ring. There were lots of filing cabinets and computer screens behind her. Judy hoped she hadn't interrupted something important at the hospital - but then, Sharon wouldn't have answered unless she had the time. "What's up?"

"Nick is sick." She slid down to sit against the wooden banisters. "Help. You're the best nurse I know."

"Oh no. What is it?"

"A migraine. Headache, nausea, everything." Judy outlined what happened and the help she'd tried to give him.

Sharon had propped her phone up so she could tap at a computer on her desk. "They're not common?"

"No. He says they're a once-every-few-years kind of thing."

"Best thing he can do in that case is get painkillers and water ASAP." Sharon shrugged and gave Judy a sad smile. "Sucks that it came on so fast. Is he sleeping?"

"I hope so." Judy looked back toward her apartment. "I left him alone."

"He'll be fine, Jude." Sharon tilted her head at the camera.

"I've just never seen him laid out like this, without being able to do anything about it. I know how these things feel. I'm getting secondpaw nausea here."

"You did a lot," Sharon said. "And you're letting him rest. Sometimes that's the best thing you can do. Nick will appreciate that."

"Yeah."

"And you can always give him a big hug afterward."

Leave it to Sharon to cheer her up a bit. Judy nodded. "Sorry to call you up just to vent."

"It's fine. Beats this paperwork."

"You, too, huh?"

Sharon angled her camera to show a stack of manila folders in the out bin. "No escaping it."

"I'll let you get back to it, then," Judy said. At least she and Nick didn't have any of that to worry about tonight. She would have done it so he didn't have to, and that would have bugged him.

"Give Nick my sympathies." Sharon waved. "I'll come say hello when I can. There's a conference I'm supposed to attend in a couple of months."

"Keep me posted," Judy said.

And so she puttered, to give Nick as much time as she could. No, there was no paperwork. And there was nothing to do in the garden this time of year.

She wound up in the little lobby downstairs. Mammals came and went. Mrs. Reagan waved from her apartment door, on her own way in for dinner. Judy could smell whatever it was, and it seemed her stomach was finally settled enough to growl. She hadn't eaten since breakfast, now. But she had to wait it out, for Nick's sake. Some things were more important than dinner.

So she dragged it out for almost an hour and a half, sitting on an oversize chair and paging through idle nothing on her phone until her battery ran down.

Nick was still asleep when she came back, right where she'd left him. At least he was breathing more deeply.

She curled up on his couch - about as close as she could get to him without disturbing him - and settled in to wait.

---

The stress had pulled on her, apparently, because Judy didn't stir again until there was weight sinking onto the cushion beside her. She raised her head and blinked in the dark of the nighttime apartment.

Nick was wrapped in her comforter. He'd pulled it off her bed and over his head like a hood. He smiled at her, but his eyes were still a little dull with pain. His movements were slow and careful.

"Nick." She pushed under his chin. "Are you feeling better?"

"Getting there." Nick's whisper was hoarse; he cleared his throat and tried again. "Head is just splitting instead of overwhelming. I'm glad it's dark out now."

Judy wished, for maybe the first time ever, that she was sized to be big spoon. She wanted to wrap around Nick and keep him safe right now, but all she could ever get was one of his paws. It would have to do.

"Stomach okay?"

"Mostly," he said.

"Do you want something to eat? We missed dinner."

He moved his head against her. "You didn't eat?"

She looked up at him. "I wasn't going to do that to you. You needed time."

He grumbled and pulled her closer. "Carrots..."

"I couldn't make you sick," Judy persisted. "I couldn't make it worse." She didn't know if he'd noticed the way she'd reacted, when his nausea had peaked. But that had been bugging her, too. "And call me selfish, but I can't listen to other mammals be sick, either."

Nick sighed and rearranged his muzzle over her head. "You and me both. Okay. Thanks, I guess."

"I can bring us breakfast tomorrow," she said. "Do you want bagels? Or Moe's does smoothies and juices, too."

"Don't worry about me right now," he murmured, and eased further back against the couch cushions. "I kind of want to get over this before I think about it anyway."

She did let him go eventually, because she did too worry about him: Now that he was feeling better she wanted to get at least something in him, even if it was just water.

Nick accepted the glass and sipped at it. Judy kept an ear on him and made their bed while he drank. He'd pulled the comforter, so she straightened the pillows and sheets so they would be ready. The couch wasn't bad, but she wanted Nick to get the best sleep possible.

They climbed into bed and Judy shimmied higher against him, so her snout lay over the top of his instead of in the hollow of his neck where she usually slept. He'd said her presence in the bed had helped before. Maybe this would help, too.

It meant his tired eyes were closer than usual, where he was watching her. Judy planted a gentle kiss between them as he closed them.

"I'm sorry I freaked out this whole time."

"Mm." He was already drifting. "I hadn't noticed."

He really was too good to her. Judy settled down around him, careful not to shift their shared pillow while she did it.

Yes, he still needed his rest. And yes, she could give him that, no matter how hungry she got. Nick was right. She should just leave it for when he was feeling better.

Now she just hoped her stomach wouldn't start growling.