Big Spoon Cuddling Novels & Stories

He rubs her back and she gestures to the problematic spoons, “I don’t see a difference, the size is the same, the position on the table is virtually indistinguishable from this other spoon. But using it for anything other than its intended purpose is ‘frowned upon most deeply’.” She sighs, giving up for now. George has again chosen her food for her, as she’s been drowning in the spoon section, struggling to see the spoons for the other mildly different spoons. George looks at the spoons in question, and frowns,

he said with a small shrug, “Come let’s go watch a movie.” “What about yours?” I asked when I noticed him climbing the stairs without a bowl. “We can always share,” he winked at me. I burrowed myself under his blankets and our legs were pressed together. His hand was over my shoulder like earlier and he was rubbing small circles on my arm. I couldn’t concentrate on anything except him, his hands and the fact that we were sharing an ice cream spoon. It’s funny that it’s something this little that is turning me on the most.

Baekhoon lifts his spoon, pretending to focus on the porridge, but I notice the way his eyes flick toward me every few seconds. His gaze lingers just a fraction too long, teasing, and it makes my stomach twist in a way I can’t ignore. I hand him a sip of water, my fingers brushing the back of his hand. He doesn’t pull away. Instead, his thumb traces lightly over my knuckles, slow and deliberate. I bite my lip, trying to appear casual, but the heat in my chest rises sharply.

I brought just one spoon Me: I only brought one spoon He took it from me and put it in the food Andy: it's blessed, amen I smiled He took a little of it and brought it to my mouth. I opened up and he gently fed me. Next he fed himself Andy: did a maid or chef make this? Me: I think my mom did Andy: it's good He took another spoon and nodded then another spoon. I chuckled Me: mister, you're forgetting me He chuckled and fed me three times Andy: now feed me

Scott offered. Dang! The moment Scott mentioned food, her stomach began rumbling. Sigh, she was hungry! "I hear your stomach rumbling, Bri. Don't be stubborn! I'm going to order that soup, whether you agree or not!" Scott said as he proceed to made the order online on his phone. Brian sighed and said nothing. She continued sipping the hot water until the cup was empty. "Who's cup is this?" she asked. Scott smirked. "That's mine. We are practically having lips-to-lips, Bri. I didn't wash that cup due to panic, and I used it this afternoon when I made my coffee," he said, grinning cheekily.

“So, how about some soup?” When Conner made no move toward the bag, Sloane didn’t miss a beat. “Don’t worry, I’ll get it,” he said, pulling the bag toward him and unrolling the top. “You’re probably feeling a bit weak from that cold of yours.” He dug into the bag. “Voila,” he said, pulling out a large Styrofoam cup with all the flourish of a magician pulling a rabbit from a hat. He placed the cup in front of Conner, then reached back into the sack and retrieved a second cup, along with a pair of plastic spoons. He slid one of the spoons across the table to Conner.

She was so harsh, vile, and malicious. Madam Duval was very pleased by the sight of the disheveled Hesper. “Since you’re awake, have some soup, quickly! I had someone prepare a lactation-boosting soup especially for you so you can breastfeed my grandson when you’re done! Come and feed Mrs. Duval the soup!” Upon Madam Duval’s order, someone immediately served a bowl of oily-looking soup to Hesper. The surface of the soup was still boiling and steaming, a sign of it being freshly-prepared.

she says, lifting a separate tray, “something special.” She brings it directly to Hope. “Everyone else, grab a plate.” The room erupts into movement. When they return, plates heavy with protein and steam, Hope peers into her tray. “Oh wow—what’s all this?” “It’s for the pup,” Bea says casually. The room freezes. “The bone broth’s been simmering for twenty-four hours,” Bea continues, oblivious. “Soup’s packed with spinach and liver for nutrients—” She stops when she realizes everyone is staring. “What?”

“Mr. Gordon already left. According to him, you can feed it to Bob if you don’t want it.” Bob was our gardener’s ugly bulldog. I sneered. “So, he made soup for me and the dog?” I opened the lid to find chicken and vegetable soup. It looked nice, with a warm golden color. Mrs. Gibson took a whiff and said, “It smells pretty good. Did Mr. Gordon make it himself? Not many men take the time to cook these days.”

I used to eat alone at a huge table for years. “This is good!” Gugu put aside her spoon and fork after finishing a huge bowl of ramen. “I’ll go back to business.” She floated out of the kitchen. I picked my bowl and brought them to the sink together with Gugu’s. Grip put his own bowl on the sink. “Go get some rest,” I told him and he just nodded. I ran the water on the bowls and grabbed a sponge. I started washing the dishes when he hugged me from behind, snaking his hands around my tiny waist. He sniffed my hair smelling my strawberry scent shampoo.