The evening was steeped in warmth, the dim glow of the television flickering across the room as you lounged comfortably on the couch, wrapped in a blanket and pressed against Finn’s side. The air was thick with an easy, familiar intimacy, the kind that came with countless nights spent like this — just the two of you, lost in the world of a movie.

Without warning, Finn stood, stretching before making his way to the kitchen. A few moments later, he returned, two ice creams in hand, his smirk playful as he offered one to you.

Not wanting to divert your attention from the screen, you wordlessly accepted — except instead of taking small bites, you parted your lips and took the entire thing into your mouth in one effortless motion.

Silence.

Then — a deep, amused chuckle rumbled from Finn’s chest. He leaned back, arms draping lazily over the couch as he regarded you with a glint of mischief in his eyes.

"Well, well… looks like our nightly routine has made that mouth of yours a lot more flexible, huh?" he mused, smirk widening.