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Kiss Prompts

Happy New Year!! (even tho I’m a bit late to the party) Still not updating anything major, but I wrote these very short, barely worked on so definitely not superb blurbs based on this prompt list over the last few days cuz Willow and Elisa live rent free in my head. So take this until the 10th, which is when I *should* be more consistent. But no promises, ive learned my lesson lmao

T Rating (i dont think there's any warnings? it'd be weird if there was, right?)

Elisa x MC (Willow)

~6k (spread between the like 13 or so blurbs)

1 - “Breaking the kiss to say something, staying so close that you’re murmuring into each other’s mouths” / 15 - “A gentle ‘I love you’ whispered after a soft kiss, followed immediately by a stronger kiss”

Willow’s legs swirl in the Villa’s pool, lights from the party and the canopy of stars resting above her reflecting and mixing on the surface of the water, glinting off the tiny waves Willow creates. The party’s in full swing, laughter, conversation, and music filling the open lawn as ex-Islanders, families, producers, and a few influencers indulge in the fantasy of constant highs and wild nights for once.

“Hey,” a voice calls from a few paces away, drawing nearer in a few strides. “Mind if I join you?” Elisa drops beside Willow beside the pool, the dark of the night blanketing her as a few stray lights glance off and shadow her features.

“You’re always welcome, Lise,” Willow answers coolly, legs still idly circling in the water, tiny ripples spreading from the source.

Elisa’s fingers find Willow’s, intertwining absentmindedly as she sighs, “Being the centre of attention is nice, but even I can only handle it for so long. I need a little break, just to hear myself think.” Her eyes turn to the dusting of stars above them, moonlight playing in her irises, “How are you finding it?” she questions softly.

“It’s a bit overwhelming,” Willow shrugs, eyes trained on the crashing of colours painting Elisa’s features, the neon lights shining on her skin, the faint glimmer of constellations playing off her hair, dancing in her eyes. “I know they mean well, but talking to all these people is exhausting.”

“Yeah, spirits are running very high,” she nods along, her own legs playing in the water, creating miniscule tidal waves in the pool, breaking the reflections held within it. Willow glances to the party, watching the silhouettes of guests as they chatter about anything and everything and absolutely nothing.

“It’s weird,” Elisa finally says after a moment, simultaneously breaking the quiet and earning Willow’s gaze. “Just a few months ago, the idea of ever settling down with someone was… impossible. Totally unbelievable,” the sky’s lights turn her heavenly as she watches them, otherworldly in their soft glow. “And now here I am with the most wonderful girlfriend I could ever hope for,” her eyes finally return to Willow, a grin on her lips, “And I can really see a future for us,” she squeezes the hand in hers, tight with excitement. “Not to mention we bloody won Love Island!” she laughs, her entire being alighting with it.

Willow’s palm lands on her cheek, thumb brushing along Elisa’s skin, the laughter falling away as something heavy settles between them, something Elisa is intent on resolving. She leans in, just enough for their lips to brush and for a shiver to run down her spine. Just enough for Willow’s hands to slip into her hair, fingers filling with the locks, and a heat to rise in her stomach.

Their foreheads fall together, a sliver of space keeping their lips apart, “I love you.” It’s a whispered confession, a tiny promise of security and desire and comfort and love. Real, unabashed, vulnerable love. And it’s making Willow dizzy, it’s making her heart rate pick up, it’s making her nerves feel as if they’re on fire as she sits on the poolside.

Her hands in Elisa’s hair pull her closer, their lips crashing together once more as she bids the finale party goodbye, content to fall into this moment forever, to never leave the pool if it means her high from those three words will stay forever, if she can just stay in this bliss with the person she unequivocally loves forever.

2 - “Moving around while kissing, stumbling over things, pushing each other back against the wall/onto the bed” / 3 - “Kissing so desperately that their whole body curves into the other person’s”

The front door swings open, a mess of limb stumbling inside and kicking to knock the door closed. Hands are grasping at clothes, working to discard them as they stumble in heels, kicking them off and tripping in the process. Willow’s arms are wrapped around Elisa’s body, fingers tugging at the zipper of her dress as Elisa’s hands pull at her jacket, yanking it down her arms.

Elisa bumps into a side table, nearly sending a candle careening to the floor as Willow leads her backwards, in the general direction of the bedroom. She’s managed to free Elisa’s shoulders and chest from the dress in the chaos, still pulling it down without a care for their surroundings.

The bedroom door’s shoved open as Elisa finally frees Willow from her shirt, throwing it to the floor before Willow’s lips find hers again, insistent and unrelenting. Her knees buckle as she hits the edge of the bed, falling backwards with Willow in hot pursuit, body hovering over Elisa’s own as she steals her breath again and again.

She kisses Elisa again, and it’s fiery and passionate and a million other things Elisa could never describe as her body curves into Willow’s, a silent plea for it to never end, for this night to never end. A prayer that she can forever worship the person against her, laying with her on the bed of the flat, indulging her on this random night.

Their legs entwine together, their upper bodies press together, their hands hold each other as they kiss each other senseless, as heat skyrockets between them, as moans and groans fill the quiet of the flat, as they fall into one another with unrestrained, unrestricted, scarcely kept together need.

4 - “Throwing their arms around the other person, holding them close while they kiss” / 5 - “Hands on the other person’s back, fingertips pressing under their top, drawing gentle circles against that small strip of bare skin that make them break the kiss with a gasp”

Elisa rushes across the trationstation as she catches a glimpse of an all too familiar jacket and the pins adorned along its lapels, reflections shining on their plastic coatings as they rest on a backdrop of faux leather. She snakes through the people still milling about within the station at the late hour, muttering a few ‘excuse me’s when meet with grumbling or a scowl.

The pin-decorated jacket turns just in time, arms opening hastily for Elisa’s body as it collides with the jacket, momentum nearly sending them both flying to the floor. Her arms drape along shoulders, barely allowing Willow second to register her presence before she’s kissing her, fierce and sweet, with two week’s worth of desire flooding from her. Willow’s own arms coil around her torso, swinging her lightly as she hums into the kiss, suppressing a grin at the antics she’s been immediately greeted with.

Elisa’s feet find the floor once more as Willow’s hands settle on her lower back, slipping just below the hem of her shirt, palms warm on the skin. Her fingers write idle patterns on the skin beneath them, soft and tender phrases, silent and loving stories. A touch that’s barely there, a ghost skating along Elisa’s skin, goosebumps breaking from the affected area as she gives a quiet gasp, their lips parting from Willow’s just a centimetre.

“I take it you missed me?” Willow teases, eyes alight as they meet Elisa’s, glinting with mischief in the yellow, artificial lighting they’re bathed in.

A grin curves Elisa’s lips, a small, barely there crack in her facade as she barely contains her excitement, “Maybe a little,” she hums, the words vibrating in her throat, low and warm as Willow’s hands leave her body.

They instead grasp her own hands, lightly tugging her along, “C’mon, it’s late; I need to get home.” She leads Elisa along, their fingers tangled together as they weave towards the exit, different smiles splitting their lips, yet their origin is exactly the same.

6 - “Lazy morning kisses before they’ve even opened their eyes, still mumbling half-incoherently, not wanting to wake up”

A few rays of sunlight spill into the silent flat, disturbing the shadows that have rested there all night, stirring the world as the sun breaks across the horizon. Elisa and Willow are entangled with the sheets, fabric lightly resting on bare skin as soft breathing and the gentle rise and fall of their chests keep the room from freezing over.

A murmur echoes across the still of the bedroom, Elisa further burying herself in sheets and pillows, nestling into them to escape the creeping light seeking to rouse her. She mumbles sleepily, unconsciously seeking out the warmth radiating from the body beside her.

She’s welcomed with open arms without a thought, Willow’s arms wrapping around her as she collides their foreheads, neither pair of eyes even opening. “Lise,” Willow mumbles, the letters narrowly making their escape as they tumble from her mouth, slurred and quiet.

Her mouth finds Elisa’s, pressing light kisses to her lips in a good morning greeting, over and over again as the sun stalks higher and higher along the horizon outside, bathing them in oranges and yellows, pastels from the sky dancing along skin and sheets. Dancing along limbs as Willow’s hands find Elisa’s hair, thumbs brushing along the back of her neck.

“Mmm, Will,” Elisa mutters between soft kisses, the words garbled as her body slides closer to Willow, hands unconsciously grasping at Willow’s sides to draw her closer.

Willow doesn’t answer her mumble, just presses more insistent kisses along Elisa’s lips, her cheeks, her nose, everywhere within reach as her hands curl in soft locks, ever-present. The kisses come to an end as Elisa hides her face in Willow’s shoulder, looking to escape the harsh rays of sunlight staring her in the face, and again, Willow doesn’t comment, only tightens her arms around the body against her, fingers idly playing with brunette tresses.

7 - “Routine kisses where the other person presents their cheek/forehead for the hello/goodbye kiss without even looking up from what they’re doing”

Elisa’s sitting at her vanity, eyeliner in hand as she carefully traces a shape along her eyelid, cautious patterns lining her features. Colours splash along her face, pops of pastels illuminating her eyes, and sharp shadows cutting along her jaw and cheekbones, with the lights standing opposite her playing off the highlights.

The front door creaks open and slams shut, footsteps echoing as they draw closer, but Elisa’s eyes stay on her mirror, her reflection doused in shading and splashes as it stares back at her, both gazes equally focused on the task at hand. She switches sides, now outlining her other eye, the colour of her iris glimmering in the bright lights.

Willow steps into the room, her own gaze trained on her phone, fingertips tapping at the screen and the soft light emanating from it. She strolls through the room, feet leading her in Elisa’s direction, past the lights, past the decor, past the vanity adorned with countless makeup products to Elisa’s side, where her girlfriend is already waiting, head tilted in expectation.

She pecks Elisa on the cheek without a thought, her eyes barely breaking from their focus on her screen, just enough to be certain of where her lips are landing. Then she carries on, continuing through the flat as she does every day, thuds and creaks sounding as she drops her bag, kicks her shoes off, and tugs the fridge door open, leaving Elisa to return to her work.

She smiles up at the camera as the fridge slams shut, at the reflection on the lens as the telltale sign of someone slumping on the sofa sounds, at the thousands of people that will never even see that moment as the flat falls quiet again, her work undisturbed in the afternoon. Her hands find their spot again, resuming their task of transforming her face into a mural, a painting, a fresco on her skin, a temporary work of art.

8 - “Being unable to open their eyes for a few moments afterward”

The Villa’s buzzing with excitement, with adrenaline, with anxiety, and with a dozen other emotions as the remaining Islanders begin gathering at the fire pit, preparing themselves for the eventual declaration of a victor after this long summer and all its ups and downs, highs and lows. The electricity is nearly palpable as nerves begin to devour the Islanders, dread and hope colliding into a dark mass in their stomachs as they attempt to wrangle their wandering minds.

Willow stands in the kitchen, worrying her lip between her teeth as she awaits Elisa, fiddling with her belt to keep herself occupied. Apprehension has settled in her stomach, seeped through her skull until she’s nearly bouncing on her feet, the anticipation overwhelming.

“Hey, babe,” a voice sounds from behind her, stirring her from her distant thoughts as she turns to greet Elisa. Her dark eyes rove along the outfit across from, up to Elisa’s face and the smile waiting for her. “You ready?” she asks, closing the distance between them to let her arms fall along Willow’s shoulders.

Willow shrugs, fighting against the worry filling her and it’s desire to splay itself across her face, “As ready as I’ll ever be,” she counters, arms wrapping around Elisa’s waist to draw her closer.

“You sure?” Elisa asks, eyes growing dark with concern as her draws nearer to Willow’s, her head bent low to counteract their current height difference.

“Yep,” Willow forces a grin, forces her anxiety to stop overtaking her, forces her eyes to meet Elisa’s and shine in the light as much as the ones staring back at her.

Elisa hums in response, arms tightening around Willow’s shoulders as her hands clasp together behind her head. “Kiss for good luck?” she offers, eyebrow quirking and lips curving with mischief.

Willow fights a smile of her own, “If it helps,” she teases lightly.

“Oh, it definitely helps,” Elisa grins, the gap between them shrinking away as Elisa kisses her, sweet and delicate in the kitchen’s lighting. The sounds of eager and nervous Islanders fall away, the sounds of a growing crowd and overworked crew members disappear, the entire world falls away as they stand there, locked together by the counter.

They break for air, foreheads falling together as their breath mixes in the tiny amount of space between them, slight pants filling their lungs as their eyes stay closed, colours dancing across the lids. “Better?” Elisa whispers, afraid to break the blanket of calm that’s settled around them.

“Yeah. Yeah. Better,” Willow whispers, just as soft, as the brilliant array of colours dissipates in favour of gorgeous features resting opposite her, “Better,” she smiles softly, reveling the hum that escapes Elisa as she settles against her, eyelids still shut.

9 - “One small kiss, pulling away for an instant, then devouring each other” / 10 - “Staring at the other’s lips, trying not to kiss them, before giving in”

Hips sway, bodies collide, dancing away the night to upbeat melodies and under blinding neon lights. Alcohol permeates the space, removing any inhibitions as patrons move to bounding basses and sharp staccatoed rhythms, filing the throbbing club.

Willow’s hands are on Elisa’s waist, palms warm on the skin beneath them as sweat slowly builds on her skin, only encouraged by Elisa’s constant energy. They’ve danced through innumerable songs, the music filling their veins as they carry on with no sign of stopping, Elisa’s hips against Willow’s a constant motivator.

Willow tilts her head up, finding green eyes already on her, already drinking in all of her features. Dark and light collide, a collage of colours as a smile quirks Elisa’s lips, relaxed and content in the dim of the club. “Hey, gorgeous,” she murmurs, for Willow and only Willow.

“I think I’m supposed to be calling you that,” she retorts, smirking upwards and letting her hands glide along her back, along the exposed skin from her backless dress, along the goosebumps breaking along toned muscles.

“We can both be drop-dead gorgeous, you know,” Elisa comments bemusedly, eyes still intensely trained on Willow and the curves and lines in her face.

Willow’s expression turns teasingly thoughtful, heading tilting and brow furrowing, “Really? ‘Cause I seem to recall you not being a fan of sharing the spotlight, and I wouldn’t want to steal your thunder.”

“I’m not entirely opposed to sharing. I just need someone good to share it with,” she hums, her face inching closer to Willow’s by the second.

“And have you found that someone good?” Willow counters, arms coiling even tighter around the waist in her arms.

Elisa’s gaze slips from dark eyes, settling on unstained lips, on the way Willow licks them without even a thought to it, on the rise in one corner, “I think I just might have.”

“And who might that be?” Willow whispers, and it’s hoarser than it was before, harder to get out as she takes in Elisa’s hungry gaze, the craving held within it, even in a club, surrounded by a thumping crowd and blasting speakers.

She meets Elisa in the middle, in a kiss that lasts only a moment, a testing of the waters, a toeing of the line, an experiment on boundaries as they stand, music throbbing in their ears and heat from the overwhelming amount of bodies around them soaking into their skin. It’s only a second before they’re breaking apart, eyes scanning one another’s own cautiously, before they’re doing it again and again and again, the crowd forgotten in favour of the other’s lips, of their tongue, of their slowly wandering hands in the dim, neon-lit club they’ve found themselves in.

11 - “When one stops the kiss to whisper ‘I’m sorry, are you sure you-’ and they answer by kissing them more” / 12 - “A hoarse whisper ‘kiss me’” / 13 - “Following the kiss with a series of kisses down the neck”

Collapsed on a daybed, Willow and Elisa lay sprawled out on the duvet, listening to distant sounds of the Villa, their hands clasped together as they stare upwards, silence filling the air between them. They coupled up only moment’s ago, the buzz still ringing through their bodies as they lay side by side, trying to let the high fall away, the nerves and the trembles fade from them.

“So…” Elisa prompts, turning her head towards Willow to watch the rise and fall of her profile, gaze skimming along each peak and valley.

“So…” Willow counters, still facing upwards as her thumb idly follows the dips and ridges of Elisa’s knuckles.

“So… that happened,” she mumbles, her voice low in the still of the night, a few sounds of retiring Islanders floating over to the pair.

Willow nods easily, “Yeah.”

“Um,” Elisa averts her eyes, fiddling with Willow’s fingers nervously, building up the courage to ask the question that’s been looping in her mind for the last few minutes. “Are you happy with it?”

“Yeah,” Willow nods again.

“Yeah?”

She shrugs, unaffected, “Yeah.”

“You sure?” Elisa asks warily, her hold on Willow’s hand going slack in the event she jerks it away.

Willow laughs for once, finally turning to meet Elisa’s gaze, to meet the swimming pools of green staring back at her, “Why would I couple up with you if I wouldn’t be happy with it?”

“I dunno…” Elisa mumbles, gaze darting away again, “Maybe I was the lesser evil.”

Willow grins, unabashed and carefree as they lay isolated on the daybed, “You’re not evil at all.”

“Not even a little?” Elisa challenges, her demeanor quickly shifting as moves closer, her side brushing Willow’s

Willow’s grin grows, “Well, how am I supposed to know?” she teases lightly, her hand splitting from Elisa’s to trail up her arm.

Elisa darts forward, capturing Willow’s lips and earning a soft groan from the back of her throat, Willow falling into Elisa’s body with ease. Elisa slides atop her, straddling her hips as their lips stay locked together, her hands wandering along Willow’s sides, following curves, the peaks and valleys of her body this time.

She breaks the kiss as Willow’s hands settle on her hips, weights resting on her skin and palms warm through the fabric of her dress, “I’m sorry, are you sure you -” Elisa begins, before she’s cut off by Willow’s mouth on hers again, adamant and electrifying.

“Just kiss me,” she exhales into Elisa’s mouth, her hot breath and the charged letters sending a shiver down Elisa’s spine and alighting her nerve endings, her stomach swirling at the vibrato in Willow’s voice.

“Happily,” Elisa purrs, a smile on her lips as the sound reverberates in the back of her throat, her mouth immediately on Willow’s again, and again and again and again, collisions repeating, never-ending as they lay there on the daybed.

Willow’s legs shift ever-so-slightly, the tiniest, miniscule change before she’s flipping them, landing atop Elisa. She breaks the kiss with a sharp inhale, meeting dark eyes in surprise as they loom over her, longing overflowing from them as they shine in the light, shadows playing in the irises.

But their gazes don't stay locked together, frozen in time forever, Willow breaking it for her lips to find Elisa’s jaw, her pulse point, her neck, her collarbone, kisses tracing delicate promises in her skin. She nips and sucks at her neck, soothing any aches with her tongue and letting her teeth graze skin until Elisa hisses, hands grasping at Willow.

They write a thousand phrases into each other’s skin, wordless vows and silent contracts as they ignore the Villa, the Islanders, the cameras, the audience, a single-minded focus on the other as they lay there on the daybed. As they follow the peaks and valleys of each other, as they cover one another in sweet and tender and passionate and burning kisses, each one worth more than the last. As they cherish each other, laying side by side and trading lazy kisses as long as they can, never wanting to break this quiet, perfect moment.

14 - “Starting with a kiss meant to be gentle, ending up in passion”

Elisa’s sprawled on the sofa, wrapped tight in a blanket as she watches the telly and it’s assorted scenes, lights playing on the walls, but she’s barely paying attention. Willow’s out late working and running errands, and Elisa doesn’t like being alone in the flat after sunset, leaving her curled up waiting for her arrival.

She sighs, her head falling back to the back of the cushion to watch shadows on the ceiling as she hugs herself. Her eyelids fall shut, a deep breath filling her lungs as she buries herself in the warmth of the blanket. Willow’s long days are her least favourite days, for a multitude of reasons, but the biggest one is how quiet everything is.

Usually pots and pans are clanging in the kitchen, clatters echoing off the walls as soft music plays from a bluetooth speaker, and Willow’s trying not to laugh at Elisa’s bad jokes or get distracted by her flirting. But now the only sound is the telly and some show she doesn’t even care about.

“Hey,” a familiar voice greets as the front door is shoved open, Willow shouldering her way into the flat, her hands full of grocery bags and a backpack hanging from her shoulders.

Elisa’s on her feet in a heartbeat, abandoning the sofa and her blanket as she stalks behind Willow into the kitchen. She watches her drop the bags to the countertop, dusting off her hands before turning to greet Elisa with a small smile.

Only Elisa beats her to it, darting in for their routine greeting kiss, a quick peck before they dive into dinner - or, before Willow dives into cooking. But this time, Elisa can’t tear herself away, melting into the kiss as her hands cup Willow’s jaw, holding her in place as she kisses her, all the air leaving her body at the fire held within it.

“Uh, good evening?” Willow tries as they break for air, just as breathless as Elisa, her fingers circling along Elisa’s sides distractedly.

A grin curls Elisa’s lips, “Good evening,” she hums, smiling contentedly as they stand in the kitchen, without any lights flicked on and groceries sitting beside them.

“Good evening,” Elisa repeats as she buries her face in Willow’s neck, swaying lightly from side to side as she squeezes her girlfriend, so, so contentedly.

“You know, I was gonna make dinner,” Willow teases, but she’s swaying too, and playing with Elisa’s hair, twisting locks between her fingers as the nails of her other hand scratch at Elisa’s back.

Elisa nods, humming ‘Okay,’ as she remains glued to Willow, her lashes brushing skin and exhales sending heat careening to Willow’s face. “Okay,” she repeats, squeezing Willow tight as her forehead presses to her neck.

“Okay,” Willow answers, placing a kiss to Elisa’s forehead as they remain, swaying lightly on the kitchen tile, stuck between the counters loaded with groceries for their dinner - if they ever get around to cooking it.

16 - “When one person’s face is scrunched up, and the other one kisses their lips/nose/forehead”

“Everyone finished?” Noah calls to the Islanders, hands folded before him as his eyes rove over the couples.

Chelsea scribbles hurriedly on her whiteboard a few seats down from Willow and Elisa, shouting out ‘Done!’ as she finishes, capping her marker with a smile.

Noah waves his hands, indicating for everyone to display their answers, various names spelled on the reflective surfaces. A vote for nearly everyone, seemingly random picks, except for Chelsea’s.

She’s grinning wide, board pointed in the direction of Willow and Elisa, their names printed on it in bold letters, their names Chelsea’s final answer, their names the answer to the question ‘Which couple is the most likely to model in the nude for a life drawing class?’ Willow’s eyes narrow as she glances to a beaming Chelsea, “I’d take that class,” she winks, only further sending Willow recoiling into herself.

Though, Chelsea’s answer doesn’t seem to have the same effect on everyone, Elisa squealing from beside Willow and coiling her arms around Willow’s torso, tugging her close as she shrieks in her ear, “Oh my god, now we have to!”

“Jesus, no,” Willow scowls sharply, squirming within the vice grip holding her in place and attempting to pry Elisa’s arms off her, but they only tighten around her.

“Will, please,” Elisa whines, the vowels of her plea stretched as they’re hummed into Willow’s ear, begging as her hold softens, arms falling slack as she pouts.

Willow’s head turns just enough to glare at her, features tight, “I’m not getting naked in front of strangers.”

“But it’s for art!” Elisa pleads, her face contorted in her desperation.

Willow scoffs as she crosses her arms, falling backwards in her chair, “Don’t care.”

“But it’d be fun!” Elisa counters, her chin landing on Willow’s shoulder as her finger circles on her hip, sweet in an attempt to be convincing.

“Random people seeing the bits I keep private on purpose is not fun,” Willow retorts with a huff, keeping her voice low as the other Islanders pretend they’re not watching, engaging in their own conversations with bent heads.

Elisa’s pout grows, eyes wide and glimmering as she squeezes Willow in her arms, gaze glued to her in silent pleading. Willow meets her gaze, expression exasperated as she turns her head, rolling her eyes at the state of Elisa, “God, no,” she repeats with a huff.

“You sure?” Elisa drawls as she begins peppering kisses along Willow’s shoulder, up her neck, on her jaw. She traces her bone structure, follows the curves of her face, draws shapes along her skin.

“Lise, stop it,” Willow squirms again, shifting in her seat awkwardly and frowning intently as Hope and Noah attempt to continue the game. She grabs her board to try and participate, but Elisa isn’t even bothering to pay attention.

“So grumpy,” she teases, continuing to berate Willow’s face with light kisses, grinning all the while as Willow tries to write her answer. Elisa drops one last kiss to her cheek before pulling away, settling into her seat as the game continues and Willow racks up more points for them.

And regardless of how much she complained, Willow still isn’t moving, still isn’t pulling away or stopping leaning against Elisa. She’s still letting the other woman squeeze her hand or shoulder, or kiss her cheek when she’s scowling again, or play with her fingers when she gets bored, or poke at the lines formed in Willow’s forehead from knit brows. She still stays there, and that’s maybe Elisa’s favourite thing about her.

18 - “Kisses where one person is sitting in the other’s lap” / 19 - “Kisses meant to distract the other person from whatever they were intently doing”

Willow flicks through the pages of her book, absentmindedly running the paper of a single page between the tips of her fingers. The flat’s quiet for once, only the hum of electricity and the distant noises of city life breaking the near-silence. She shifts, settling further into the sofa’s cushions, her legs stretching beneath the knit blanket draped over her lap.

The front door swings open, Elisa striding in with bold steps carrying her across the flat. She tosses her bag on a kitchen chair, her jacket discarded over the back of it, too as she hurries over to Willow. Her forearms collide with the back of the sofa, folded as she leans over Willow’s shoulder.

Her chin lands on Willow’s shoulder as the latter’s eyes remain on the book, scanning lines of text, even as Elisa murmurs in her ear, “Miss me?”

“Mmhmm,” Willow hums in response, turning a page as Elisa’s breath brushes her skin.

“Then maybe you should kiss me,” Elisa whispers, her lips grazing the shell of Willow’s ear, voice low and suggestive in the afternoon light.

Willow flicks another page, gaze still on the ink printed on paper, the delicate shapes and curves of letters, the sharp lines accompanying every paragraph, “Mmhmm.”

Elisa frowns, pulling away from Willow to glare at the book that’s commanding her girlfriend’s attention and ruining her plans for the night. She grabs the book with a huff, tossing it aside as she climbs over the sofa, landing in Willow’s lap. “Lise,” Willow whines, squirming beneath the other woman’s weight, “I’m trying to read,” she groans

“And I’m trying to get attention, so give it or I’m never leaving you alone,” she frowns down before her features rapidly transform into a pout, with pleading eyes as extra incentive, “Please, Will? Please?”

Willow meets her gaze exasperatedly, barely suppressing an eye roll at the exaggerated expression staring back at her. She shakes her head, stretching beneath Elisa for her book, retrieving it and flipping back to her page to resume her spot without another word.

“Will,” Elisa groans, dropping her head to Willow’s shoulder in annoyance. She stays there, facing Willow’s neck, huffing occasionally to make Willow aware of her torment and devastation as she ignores Elisa and reads her stupid book.

Turning pages fills the silence, a brushing of paper on paper, of skin on paper mingling in the air to create a calming backdrop as Elisa pouts, irritated but increasingly less so as Willow’s hand traces random patterns on her side. She settles upright once more, hands cupping Willow’s jaw gently to try and steal her gaze, and ultimately failing again.

“Willow Sierra Stewart, look at me right now,” she whines, scowling down at the woman beneath her.

Willow sighs, “I told you, I’m reading, babe,” she huffs, flipping the page to carry on and further ignore Elisa.

“Fine,” Elisa huffs, arms sliding around Willow’s shoulders to knit together behind her, “We’ll do this the hard way,” she mutters under her breath, leaning in to begin covering every millimetre of Willow’s face in light kisses, jumping around her features to coat her scowl.

“Why are you so impossible?” Willow groans, finally dropping her book to wrap her arms around Elisa, a frown set on her mouth as she drops backwards into the cushions.

Elisa hums, still berating her with pestering kisses as she follows, “You love it,” she murmurs between kisses, grinning at the irritated puff of air that serves as her response. Her hands slip into the hair at the base of Willow’s neck, drawing her closer as they sit on the sofa, tangled together and slowly beginning to trade gentle kisses in the soft afternoon light, until Willow’s stupid book is forgotten entirely.

17 - “Height difference kisses where one person has to bend down and the other is on their tippy toes” / 20 - “Top of head kisses”

One thing Willow will never admit to is just how much she hates her height. It never used to bother her, it was never more than a slight inconvenience unless the top shelf was really high, and most of her exes were close to her height or shorter.

Besides, it’s not like she’s short, she’s a bit taller than average, even. And when she begrudgingly wears heels there’s not even a problem, she’s plenty tall when she wants to be. She’s plenty tall even when she doesn’t want to be, when she’s towering over tiny kittens or scared rescues at the shelter. She’s plenty tall, end of discussion.

Well, okay, not end of discussion. She’s plenty tall around everyone but one person, one person that she can’t seem to escape, no matter how hard she tries. And, to make matters impossibly worse, this one person absolutely milks it, savouring the way Willow’s nose scrunches up at any mention, verbal or offhand, silent or staring her right in the face, of her height.

Elisa loves to flaunt their height difference, even if it’s only a few inches. Even if Willow can still look her in the eyes, can still kiss her without stretching onto her toes for the most part, can still push her up against the door when they’re fumbling with each other’s clothes. She loves to hover over Willow when she’s busy, she loves to wear heels casually, she loves to pat Willow on the head just to watch her scowl.

And she loves to kiss her on the top of her head, right on the crown. In fact, she’s been doing that a lot lately, dropping kisses to her scalp now that Willow’s hair is braided and it’s available, playing with the end of her braids and ghosting her fingers along the bare skin.

“Would you stop that?” Willow snaps, spinning in her chair to glower up at Elisa and the soft smile standing behind her.

She tilts her head, still smiling faintly, “Stop what, babe?”

“Touching my head. It’s weird,” Willow huffs, averting her eyes and crossing her arms indignantly.

“Mmkay,” Elisa hums, clasping her hands behind her back and leaning down to kiss Willow’s head in farewell, turning on her heel a half a second later.

Willow’s jaw clenches as she darts out of her chair, grabbing Elisa’s arm and whirling her around until she’s glaring up at green eyes, “Stop that,” she repeats once more, simultaneously trying to ignore the way Elisa’s towering over her in heels today.

“So I can’t kiss you?” Elisa asks with a small frown and furrowed brows.

Willow rolls her eyes, a hand rising to fist in the fabric of Elisa’s top, pulling her down as Willow rolls onto her toes, pressing her lips to Elisa’s. It’s short, it’s only a second or two, but it gets her point across as they separate, a self-satisfied smirk curling her lips, “Just kiss me for real in the future.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Elisa teases, her own satisfied smile illuminating her face as she straightens, turning to leave once more, but darting back a second later, placing another quick kiss to Willow’s head.

“Elisa!” she shouts after her, furious as she watches Elisa’s retreating form sprint into the other room, throwing the door closed with a laugh and collapsing against it with flushed cheeks and an easy smile.

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