#but maybe not kisses maybe lil pokes or like feather swipes or something

[mushiewrites]

I just reread Llama's fic for George’s birthday and it mentions Dream also got birthday kisses that year. Which brought me back to my Dream has a ticklish face corner. 23 kisses all over, cheeks, neck, ears, tummy, nose ext. Just him giggling hard, trying to turn away from his mic, as Sapnap litters him with stubbly kisses, a few extra for luck (or just because he loves him) and George and Bad doing the teasing over Discord

little!!!!! stubbly!!!!!!! KISSSSSESSSSSS!!!!!!!!!!!!

yes!!!! absolutely yes! sap would litter his cute lil face and tummy and anywhere else he can reach with kisses!!! and since george is in florida now i can actually picture george holding dreams hands down so that sapnap has access to his lil tkly ears and the crook of his neck, before trailing kisses down on his ribs to his lil tummy ): and bad would be on discord, teasing dream about how cute he sounds as george gives him live updates. and all the while sapnap is just tkling the life out of dream with nothing but his mouth and his stubble!!! 🥰

(also!!!!! @fluffallamaful is actively writing this so no one steal the idea 😤)

[dameronscopilot]

Hey Dee, dunno if you do requests like this right now but would you mind writing something sweet (and maybe a lil spicy because Benny reasons) with Benny and sick!reader - I'm currently coughing my way through my 2nd round of covid 😩 thank you so much for all your wonderful content! 💖

benny miller x f!reader

summary: benny knows exactly what you need when you're sick—in more ways than one.

word count: 1k

18+

content: nsfw, smut, sick!fic, soft benny, fingering, masturbation

a/n: i hope you're starting to feel better, bb 💖💖!

Your throat feels raw when you rouse after a restless night, the dredges of sleep still weighing heavily at the edges of your consciousness. While the right side of the mattress is empty, the sheets are still warm to the touch, meaning Benny must have only recently slipped out of bed.

Despite your insistence that you wouldn't be offended if he slept on the couch, he spent the night at your side, fingers tracing soothing patterns down your arms and back throughout your coughing fits. You'd caught this cold from him, after all. You shield your eyes as you glance over at the window, the bright sunlight streaming in through the gap in the curtains doing your splitting headache no favors at all.

After slipping on a pair of sweatpants and socks and pilfering a dark green hoodie from Benny's side of the closet, you shuffle out into the living room, rubbing at your heavy eyes with the palm of your hand. At the sound of your feet padding across the laminate flooring, Benny pokes his head out from the kitchen, frowning when he sees you rifling through the large basket in the corner in search of your favorite blanket.

"Baby, I was going to bring you breakfast in bed. You didn't have to get up."

Of course he would do that.

Benny Miller is a man of many talents, but one of his best—in your humble opinion—is his unfailing need to dote on you whenever you're sick.

With the thick, sherpa-lined bundle grasped in your hands, you settle down onto the couch and glance up at him, the corner of your mouth quirking upward when you spy the splatter of pancake mix on the collar of his shirt as he approaches.

"I needed to sit up, anyway. My nose feels too congested when I'm in bed," you shrug.

Benny leans down, cupping the side of your face as he presses a kiss to your forehead. "Alright. Do you want tea?"

"Please." Your throat sings at the mere thought of the hot, soothing liquid.

"Honey?"

"Yeah?"

Benny bites his bottom lip and grins at your response, "No. Do you want honey, honey?"

You let your head drop against the back of the couch, laughing at yourself as you nod to him.

When Benny returns to the kitchen, you hear him groan as he calls out, "The pancakes might be a little burnt."

Snorting, you sit back up to swipe the remote off of the coffee table. "I can't really taste anything, anyway, so you're off the hook."

You can hear Benny's deep chuckle in response, followed by the sound of him rifling through the pantry.

-

Later, Benny lays down with you on the couch, wrapping his arms around you and tugging your back against his chest as he flips through the Netflix catalog in search of a movie to watch. Lulled by the warmth of his body heat seeping through your clothes and the feather-light touch of his thumb against the sliver of your hip left exposed, you manage to fall into a comfortable sleep.

You wake up just as the end credits are crawling across the screen, stretching your limbs ever so slightly to find Benny's hand tucked right into your sweatpants, fingers gently resting atop the front of your cotton panties. It's not meant to be sexual, per se; he just has a habit of slipping his hand into your pants while you're cuddling. But you're already feeling so sick and needy, you can't help the way your skin prickles with desire when his hand unconsciously slips even lower, nestling at the junction between your mound and your thighs.

"You awake?" Benny asks, his voice rough from sleep. He must have just woken up as well.

"Kind of," you yawn softly, ever so slightly rocking your hips into his touch.

Benny's fingers twitch, sliding down between your thighs, and he puts deliberate, steady pressure against your hot core. You don't even bother hiding the keening sound that tumbles from your lips, back arching in response.

His lips graze the shell of your ear as he drawls, "You want me to take care of you, honey?"

"Yes, Ben," you breathe out, reaching behind you to grasp his shirt when he begins to rub circles into your cunt, fingers still placed outside of your underwear.

You know he can feel it—the damp spot of arousal soaking through your panties. When he hooks finger in them and drags a digit through your slick folds, he groans appreciatively, taking a swipe with another one a moment later.

"So wet, baby. Should have told me you needed this earlier." He slides his hand into your panties from the top, cupping your mound as he continues, "Gonna make you feel so good."

A breathy sigh leaves you when he slowly sinks a digit into your tight entrance and rucks up your sweatshirt with his other hand, beginning to massage your breasts. Pleasure crawls down your spine at the feeling of the callused pads of his fingers teasingly scraping against your tender nipples as he stretches your cunt open further with another finger.

"So fuckin' pretty like this," Benny croons, capturing your lips in a soft kiss as you turn your head to glance back at him. "So pretty for me."

With Benny's body curled around you, one hand clasping your breasts and pinching your peaked nipples, the other wetly plunging in and out of your soaked cunt as his thumb strokes your clit, it doesn't take long for the hot wave of pleasure stretching taut in your gut to snap.

You choke out a moan when your climax floods through you, writhing shamelessly as Benny curls his fingers and languidly strokes your walls until your trembling legs eventually still, peppering kisses along the exposed skin of your neck.

Rolling onto your back as you catch your breath, you run a hand over the front of Benny's shorts, not surprised to find his erection straining against the fabric. But he bats your hand away, shaking his head.

"You need to rest."

You pout. "But—"

He reaches into his shorts, pulling out his flushed, leaking cock as he offers you a wry grin. "I'll do it. Just talk me through it."

Another jolt of arousal crawls back to life inside of you at the thought, and as if he knows exactly what you're thinking, he begins to languidly stroke at your sensitive cunt again, too.