Show Me Your Kiss Scenes (YA)

lauralam

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Minor plot spoilers, I suppose:

Kiss that doesn't go so well:

Damien chuckled and gave me a considering look. “When did you grow up, Iphigenia?” He was one to talk. He was younger than Cyril, and only a year older than me.

I mock-scowled at him. “Gene. And I don’t know if I would call myself grown.”

“Gene.” I liked the sound of my name on his tongue.

We sat in a tense silence. The hollowed tree smelled of old smoke, damp wood and earth and it muffled sounds from the outside. Water dripped, and animals occasionally rustled leaves. I breathed in deeply and closed my eyes.

“What are you thinking about?” Damien asked, still whispering.

“How much nicer the forest smells compared to the stench of the city.”

“So much better. The air smells so clean. No soot, no coal smoke, no seeping sewage.”

“Mm, can’t wait to smell it all again in a few days!” I shocked him into laughter.

“You are different from other girls.”

“I’m not easily scandalized,” was all I could think to say in return.

Abruptly, he leaned forward and kissed me right on the mouth. I made a muffled squeak behind my closed lips. He broke the kiss, leaned away, and opened his mouth to apologies.

I did not give him a chance, and boldly kissed him. His lips were a little chapped from the sun, the skin on his chin just beginning to prickle.

Damien made a small sound in the back of his throat, almost a growl. He pressed himself closer to me and ran his hands over my torso. I could barely feel his hands through the layers of fabric. My stomach twisted. It felt nice, wonderful even, but I knew with certainty that I was not supposed to be doing this. A kiss or two was acceptable. My mother always spouted the virtues of playing difficult to catch, of stringing men along until they could not bear to be without you. She told me that playing difficult to catch was particularly vital for me.

I’ll give it one more minute, and then push him away, I thought, a little woozy with all of the emotions swirling through my mind and body.


When a character has to kiss someone they're attracted to as part of the titular pantomime:

Drystan came to me, grasping my hands in his. He spoke Leander’s words of love, but in the magic of the stage and the costume, the words seemed charged:

“How is it that I dare to speak to thee?
Some spirit of love has o’er taken me
Oh, strike me, stone me, good Lady and Lord
I am too base to call her my adored.”

All of the other characters faded off the stage, leaving Leander and Iona alone. Drystan kissed me deeply in front of the audience. The tips of his fingers grazed my cheekbone, his stubble scratched my skin. He smelled of greasepaint and a faint but not unpleasant musk. My faithless lips responded, and I glared at him guiltily when we broke away. He only smirked as he bent over my hand and bid me a saccharine, rhymed farewell.
 

Quentin Nokov

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My heart was hammering fit to burst. He kissed me harder, one hand fisting in the tangles of my hair. His mouth was fierce on mine, his fingers biting into my hip. I made a strangled sound, feeling like I was pulling apart. One more touch and I would die: I would never survive this.

LIKE!

I get dressed in Malcolm’s clothes -- Malcolm’s clothes! -- and the clean softness of them envelops me. I can’t help but wrap my arms around myself and squeeze. The clothes smell like him. If I close my eyes I can pretend it’s him hugging me. Oh, God, I want him to hug me. Being near him without breaching that physical barrier gets so hard. Wanting to touch, wanting it so bad but being unable to...

“Tristan?”

His voice is close. Not in his room, not in here, but in between.

“Yes?”

I twist the doorknob. The bathroom light falls across Malcolm’s face. He leans against the doorjamb, looking at me with doleful eyes. I open my mouth to ask what’s up, but nothing comes out.

His eyes flicker towards the floor, then back to my face, then his eyelashes flutter shut.

All of a sudden I know what he wants. I think I know. I touch him, slide my hands from his shoulders to his neck. Recklessly, I push onto my toes and press my lips against his.

There’s a single, suspended second of nothingness. Just our mouths colliding, just Malcolm’s impossible stillness. He’s not kissing me back, oh my God, I’ve done the wrong thing.

He staggers forward, wrapping his arms around my waist, pulling me closer. I open my mouth, more out of shock than anything else, and he falls forward into the space it opens up.

That's awesome Becca!

Also I will never post a kiss scene because I'm shy about these things

Yeah, me too :censored

but I like the thread!
:D

SBibb, I liked yours. It was a 'teaser'; teasers are fun.

Niicola, yours was awesome,too! :D

Sarah, FINALLY got your book in the mail. Now I want to start it right away.

Lauralam, just ordered your book ^.^ Can't wait to get it now.
 

jr0127

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Yay a kissing post! This is a great idea b/c these are some of the most daunting scenes to write. Here's one from my WIP:

He kissed me til' I couldn't breathe. Til' the space between his lips drew out the blue in my blood. He tugged me to him by the faded corners of my t-shirt and I came tumbling all too easy. A quick slip up and under that cotton and eighteen years of expensive breeding dissolved like warm sugar at his fingertips.
 

sarahdalton

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Sarah, FINALLY got your book in the mail. Now I want to start it right away.

Yay! Hope you enjoy it, and I hope I've not given too much away. I always forget people on the forum might actually read it! :)

In the spirit of not derailing, here's another, from The Fractured: Elena:

She grabbed him by the neck and launched herself at him, their noses bumping before their lips touched. But when the kiss started it was like dynamite exploding. He pulled her close to him, holding her around her waist and then entwining his fingers with her hair. The backpack fell to the floor, but neither of them noticed. His body was hot against hers, his chest still heaving from the run. She felt his heart beating beneath his clothes. It excited her. That feeling of freedom multiplied by a billion until she felt so alive she could burst…
 

Pammie Simon

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Don't fall into the trope trap, but also don't overlook logistics. When I was 16 I missed out on kissing my crush because the bill of his hat got in the way. That almost-kiss meant more to me than some of the kisses I've received since!

And here's the first of a few kisses in my MS:

He leans in and I have just enough time to realize what he’s going to do before he does it. In that last second, right before his lips touch mine, I put my hands on his chest to push him away. He’s holding me too tightly, and there’s nothing I can do. Pressed against me, his body is firmer than I would have guessed. It’s terrifying and exciting. The responsible voice in my head demands that I push him away. But how much harm can one kiss do, really?
 

LadyA

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My kiss is between two characters who use it as subterfuge - they're hiding in the back of a truck and know they're going to be found, but pretend they're just random teenagers making out. It's their first kiss, but there's been some chemistry between them for a while...

‘Check under the lorry, Mum,’ Lee said. ‘I can hear breathing.’

Crapcrapcrapcrapcrap. India tried to hold her breath. Luke’s eyes were closed, like a soldier waiting for the firing squad.

‘Nothing.’ The woman coughed, the hacking sound incredibly loud.

Lee sucked in a breath. ‘They’re in the back with the cars then, aren’t they?’

And then India heard a metallic click, instantly recognisable from too many crime shows.

A gun.

At the same moment, Luke opened his eyes. Even in the darkness, India could see his pupils, dilated with fear.
‘Trust me,’ he mouthed.

And then he kissed her.

Not just a quick kiss for courage or luck, this was a real kiss. He pressed her against the side of the lorry and kissed her deeply, fiercely, like he hadn’t been kissed in years. India, brain still in shock from the gun and the feel of Luke’s lips on hers, felt her body respond hungrily.

She reached up and tangled her fingers in his thick hair, twisting them tight and pulling him so close she could smell his lemon shower gel. One of his hands stroked her thigh, and when his fingers touched her bare skin through the rips in her tights, she felt like she’d been scorched, branded. His other hand was splayed out on her lower back, pulling her to him and they were tangled together, and the mix of fear and lust filled her like a hot poison.
 

MartinaMay

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I love all these - so inspiring and tantalizing. Here's mine (YA Fantasy):


“We saw each other last night.”

“That was hours ago.” He slid me a forlorn look. “And hiding out on your front porch isn’t the same as being alone.”

I looked down at Joe. He was shredding the stick, shoving little pieces between the grates. My breath blew out, fluffing my bangs. “We had an hour together.”

“It wasn’t long enough.” He leaned in and our lips met, a mix of soft and sweet and fire. I reached up and tangled my fingers through his dark hair, pulling him down and me up to him until we melted together. I lost myself in us. Seared from the outside in.
 

southbel

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I don't think I've ever shared any of my writing on here - except for a line or two. But here goes:

“Are you cold?” he murmured. I mutely shook my head. I was anything but cold. Even now, I could feel the heat on my cheek from where he touched it. He leaned in towards me slowly, his green eyes darkening as they held mine. As if he had all the time in the world, he touched his lips against mine. They were warm and soft, and I was almost surprised at how they fit so well against mine.
 

sadbeautifultragic

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I have to say it depends on what kind of kiss it is? Is it a first kiss, is it a little kiss, is it a we're-already-taking-our-clothes-off kiss, is it consensual kiss, is it a cheek kiss, I mean there are so many different kisses. Some are as simple as "and we kissed" and some require at least a paragraph of build-up and then another to describe it and then another for the aftermath.

Anyway, I would post a kiss scene from my current wip but none, unfortunately, have happened yet. Good luck, and I'm all fuzzy from this thread. :)
 

KTC

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OMG! I just searched the word KISS in a YA I wrote called That's Me in the Corner. I was pretty sure the novel was rather romance element-ish. lol.

Here's the only use of the word kiss I that the search found:

Adam walked in from the kitchen. He was wearing an apron that said, ‘Forget about kissing the cook…It’s time to play hide the hot pepper!’ His smile quickly turned upside down, and the full-face bruising made the frown look almost sinister.
 

KTC

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I know I have a kiss scene somewhere. Going to check my YA novel Burn Baby, Burn Baby. **fingers crossed**
 

KTC

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Found one! And it's a first kiss, too! (-;

This from my YA - Burn Baby, Burn Baby:

Rachel rises from the bed, looks at her watch. “I have to go.” She gives me a pained expression, like she just swallowed pills that taste really bad. “Mom. She needs us to be home on time or she loses her shit.”
“Okay. Well, it was nice—”
“Yeah. Yeah it was.” She leans in and smiles. I stand up and kind of pull away from her. I know I look like a total skeezball. My legs actually shake.
She moves closer to me and kind of arches her body forward, like she’s expecting something. My first thought is to move away. This red light is going off in my head…she wants to kiss me. Kiss. Me.
“It’s okay,” she says. When I freeze and I can actually feel the look of horror spreading across my face, she reaches out and takes my hand in hers. I wonder if she can feel my shaking. “I’m not gonna bite you or anything, France.”
“I know,” I say. I’m literally unable to move. I can feel her hand holding mine and I wonder if mine is made out of stone. But it’s probably wet and shaking. I’m such a dweeb. “I just, um. Yeah. Just—”
“Ha ha,” she laughs. She pulls me closer to her and actually leans in and kisses me full on the lips. A casual lip plant she probably thinks nothing of. My first kiss. I want to tell everybody about it…and I want to tell nobody. I feel sick. I want her to leave so I can replay it. I want to tell Trig. She tastes like air. Air and mint. I want to talk. I want to say something that makes some kind of sense, but I don’t want to actually rub the imprint of her lips from mine.
Did I already say I’m a dweeb? Not only is it my first kiss from a girl, but I’m also acting like it’s my first kiss from a girl.
She lingers at the threshold of my room and I come back to my senses and follow her downstairs. Once we’re at the door, I’m planning, scheming, conniving, trying to think of a way—any way—I can get another kiss out of her. My palms are sweating. My lips, it feels like they’re twitching.
“Want to kiss me?” she asks out of the blue.
“Um. Okay,” I reply, all awkward as hell.
She kind of glows now, a beacon at my door, waiting to be kissed. But I’m afraid to approach her. More afraid to put my lips on hers than she is to put hers on mine.
“Take your time. I’ll wait.”
I blush. I sense the presence of Paul Simon slinking up behind me. Oh God.
Rachel extends her face and closes her eyes. This girl is offering herself up to me. Me. After a few attempts of false courage, I’m ready. I lean in and let my lips touch hers. As they do, she leans further forward. I keep my eyes open, still not fully confident it’s real. But it is.
I want to cry.
“Ooh,” Simon Says. “Francis has a girlfriend. Francis has a girlfriend.” It’s all sing-songy and teasy, but I like the way it sounds.
“Mushy mushy,” Paul says. He’s nothing like Simon, though. He sounds like a business man making a presentation. The words are playful, but they’re delivered dryly.
Since I really don’t know what I’m doing, I pull my lips away.
“Mmm,” Rachel coos. “That was nice.”
Paul Simon giggles. I just stand there looking at Rachel like she’s a Goddess.
“Oh, boys,” Rachel says. “Don’t be silly. We’re big kids. We can kiss. It’s not a crime, you know.”
“It’s gross,” Paul says. But he’s laughing. He’s finally cracked a bit. Rachel sticks her tongue out at her and then leans in and gives me another long kiss. The boys are sent into hysterics.
When we’re finished, and Paul Simon have grown tired of oohing and aahing and have returned to the TV, I say goodbye. Before she leaves, though, she asks for my phone number. She pulls out a cell phone and actually programs my number into it right then and there. Rachel Higgins. She has my phone number programmed into her phone. Like she plans on calling me.
I’m embarrassed to pull out a piece of paper and a pen, but—again—I don’t have a cell phone.
“What’s your number?” I say.
“Why don’t you just program it into your phone, silly?”
This might be where she drops me. What loser doesn’t have a cell phone? “Um. Because I don’t have one.” She can totally tell how embarrassed I am, because I see her initial surprise turn to a it-doesn’t-matter face. She doesn’t say anything else. Just gives me her digits.
I jot the number down, fold the piece of paper and put it in my front pocket. As she opens the door, Rachel leans in and gives me a peck on the cheek. And then she’s gone. It’s not until she’s halfway down the walkway that I realize the peck was on the right cheek. And her lips just touched me. There.
I try to keep it together. I know the boys are probably still semi-alert to me being there. I make a break for the stairs and ignore the tear that would have betrayed me to Paul Simon, had they noticed it.
 

Jehhillenberg

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From a previous contemporary. This seems super awkward slightly cringe-worthy when separated from the rest of the story before it, but here goes...

I bring my lips down onto hers but reluctantly pull away, to see her reaction. She blinks and her body comes my way, welcoming more.
I kiss her like I’ve never before, taking her full lips into my mouth before tasting her tongue and letting mine rove. With my hand on her lower back, I wanna crush her body against mine and…just have her.
 

ellio

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Last time I posted in this thread I think I had actually just finish cutting any kissing scenes out of my WIP, now I've just added one back in so I have an actual example to contribute. I wasn't lying before when I said I like my kiss scenes to be brief.

Felix just stared at me, her look pitying and anguished and loving all at the same time. I couldn’t let go of her stare. Her eyes were the only two things in the universe that I knew for sure were real. The only things still keeping me attached to the earth. She held my face in her hands and looked at me with such ferocity I was sure she was inside my mind too, I was sure she knew everything.

Then she kissed me. She kissed me and I could taste the salt from her tears on my lips. My face contorted, I shivered, and without warning my body let out an uncontrollable wail.
 

chicgeek

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This thread is a lot of fun. Love reading all the different scenes. My MC and LI are 16 and 17, my MC totally inexperienced. The first romantic scene between them doesn't involve kissing at all, although it's too long to post here. From there it escalates very slowly. But that felt right to me, for them.

At this point, they've slept in each other's arms after a rather harrowing experience, but that's the extent of it:

Her forehead slumped against the door. “I can’t…” she trailed off. The words felt like a betrayal. It didn’t matter that she couldn’t. She had to. When the excuse spilled out, it felt hollow. “I just can’t think straight.”

Something soft and warm touched her temple, enough to make her look up. She glanced at Glen, watching him pull back, lips still slightly puckered. Her cheeks flushed. His gaze was turbulent, grief and tenderness warring with the deadness of exhaustion, but his words were very clear.

“Some things you don’t have to think about.” He spent a long moment searching her eyes. “Some things you just know.”

Everything fell away. Endorphins surged through Nessa’s chest, dizzy and sweet, filling her with sudden clarity.

She felt like she could do anything.
This next scene I just wrote recently... it's funny cause I imagined their first kiss at a different point in time, further ahead, but this felt right, so I went with it. For reference: A "Maul" is essentially a cannibal. And Nessa's a cutter -- she's remembering cutting into her hand with a scalpel in this scene. Also, the Mauls aren't actually a threat right now. I'm trying to convey PTSD.

Nessa faltered. Memories overwhelmed her — a man’s throat ripped open, spitting red, hissing and the gnashing of teeth, the thunder of her footsteps drowning out her pounding heart. She gripped the wall beside her, leaning into it, shaking. Panting.

Her forehead found the cool wall. She was drowning, choking on fear. Not now. The Maul’s face swam in her vision, eyes ugly and inhuman. Her hackles rose; her senses screamed at her that they were coming. That she was going to die.

The image of the scalpel flashed through her mind, its hot bite through her skin. No. She curled her fists and her wounded hand throbbed. You’re stronger than that.

“Nessa.”

Glen’s voice brought her back. It was dark; she could only see the faint outline of his face, the dull glint of his eyes, but she could feel him. He held her by the shoulder and she moved to lean into his neck, but he caught her cheek with his other hand.

“I’m sorry.” She loathed herself for being so weak, her whole body trembling with emotion. “I—”

He pulled her face close with gentle, possessive fingers and pressed his lips to hers. They were supple and warm, so much softer than she was expecting them to be.

He withdrew, took her hand, and pulled her forward. Saying nothing about it. Her breath hitched in surprise. She couldn’t even… had he really…? She followed dumbly, stunned.

He squeezed her hand and warmth radiated through her. She forgot to be afraid. The darkness enveloped her, potent; mysterious. Her mind started working again, trying to make sense of it.
And then this, later in the same chapter. Needs some work but gets across the escalation. For context: Saul (one of the bad guys) and his men are running down a corridor and Nessa and Glen have split off into an adjoining hallway.

Glen threw his arm out in front of her, forcing her back up against the wall, crushing his body protectively against hers. He held his gun out and ready. Dead silent.

The orange lights trailed to their feet.

“Let me know the moment this floor is secure,” Saul barked.

They winked out.

“I don’t want this interrupting the doctor’s work.”

Nessa held her breath as Saul and his men flashed past. She didn’t let it go until their footsteps receded.

Glen looked at her, his face so close that she could feel his warm breath on her face. His heart pulsing against her chest. Her whole body swelled against his, flushed with heat. She moved without thought, skimming her nose against his own. Teasing his lips with hers.

She was not expecting him to pull away.

She slumped back, mind clogged with confusion, body raging with a heat more intense than anything she’d ever felt. Her breaths heavy and hot. She blinked back a fog, lost. Unable to make sense of anything.

He pulled her by the hand, back into the outer corridor. That same curtain loomed ahead, stopping short at the wall.

Nessa was still wrapped up in heat. A torrid thought broke the surface, unbidden.

Had he just rejected her?

You’re being ridiculous.

He was using his head. They had no time. They were running for their lives.

Euphoria washed over her in a sudden wave and her face flushed bright red, remembering his kiss. His lips softer than anything she’d ever felt. His warmth filling her like a balloon full of air. Like she could float away.
The next kiss will be hard and desperate and will involve some tongue. That should be interesting. Haven't written a kiss like that yet before.
 
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UndergoingMitosis

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Oooh, this is good fun. Here goes:

He leaned forward, and for a moment his breath fluttered on my lower lip, the brief promise of a kiss. I had never been so close to a boy before. I could count the faint freckles across his nose, I could trace the spiderweb of darker browns in his clear eyes. I wanted to know what his mouth tasted like. I wanted him to knot his fingers in my hair, I wanted to him to pull me even closer. Instead, he held there, fluttering. Promising. I didn't wait for him to give me the kiss. I wanted to be the sort of girl who takes what she wants. No, I wanted to be that sort of woman. So I pressed my lips to his, and they were soft and warm and new. I let my heart race and my mouth move, and for the first time in hours, I felt alive.

Just a little snippet :)
 

TheDancingWriter

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This is from my paranormal romance, 'When Star Die.' My MS Surface won't let me quote anything.

I inhale his wintry scent, soak in every part of him like I never have before, then push away from him. Looking deeply in eyes that look all too silver, I take my hand and slap him, a resounding smack echoing in the small park. A red print mars his cheek, standing out in stark contrast to his snowy skin. His mouth hangs open as he touches the welt. Without saying anything further, I pull his hand off his face, cup it with my hands, and plant my lips on his, that desperation of wanting to know what it’s like to kiss him, and that curiosity to know if those feelings I had in my dream will come out in real life.
They do, and they are the most delicious feelings I have ever felt.
 

LKSebastian

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This is a great thread! It's so fun to see all the different ways people write about the same thing. I guess kisses are like snowflakes, no two are exactly the same.

Here's my most recent attempt at it:

“Ace?” Milo asked.
She turned to see him a little ways down the hall. He’d been leaning against the wall of the hallway, his hands jammed into the pockets of his jeans, but when he saw her, he pushed away from the wall and started toward her.
“It’s done,” she told him, straightening up and shooting him a broad smile. She knew it was only the first step of what was likely going to be a long night, but she’d done it. She’d tricked Alistair and she’d done magic. She’d done magic well, on top of that. She felt a surge of pride.
Milo sprinted the last few steps toward her and when he saw Alistair Stone there, he turned to Ace and smiled. “You did it,” he told her.
“I kept him talking,” she said. “Honey was wrong, I’m not such a bad liar. And I opened the door. I know you said that was child’s play, but I shoved him too, just like we—“
He cut her off, sliding his arms around her and lifting her off the ground in an embrace. She gave a squeal of laughter, feeling like a giddy child and when he set her down, she didn’t loosen her grip on his shoulders. He looked down at her and their eyes met. Suddenly, his lips were pressing against hers, firm and warm and quick. It was unexpected and Ace stayed frozen there as he pulled back, but when his eyes found hers—stormy grey and shining, even in the dark hallway—she pulled him back down toward her and kissed him again.
She had never kissed anyone but Theo but she’d assumed that kisses were more or less the same from person to person. This was something else entirely, though. With Theo, it had been nice enough, but choreographed. She knew what he would do and how she would respond and she knew how she should feel, even if that feeling never quite took ahold of her. But kissing Milo was different. When his mouth met hers, all she could feel was warmth and even though they were already pressed against each other, she wanted desperately to get closer.
One of his hands reached around to cradle the back of her neck while the other stayed at her waist, pulling her closer. She reached up to run one hand through his dark, messy hair while holding onto his shoulder with the other. If she let go of him, she was sure she would fall straight to the ground. If he were to fall down with her, the idea didn’t seem unpleasant.
 

Judy Koot

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I absolutely LOVE this thread!
Aaargh, I'm a sucker for romance...
Nice to read all your 'kisses'.
Maybe I'll post one too, but have to translate it from Dutch first...
 

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My kiss scene - for context, it's late at night, River's staying at her best friend's house and can't sleep so ends up talking to her best friend's brother, who she's got a bit of a crush on, in his room.

"Please, Jay. Leave it, yeah? What happened happened and he's been kicked out now anyway. Though if you must do something, buy him a packet of mints. His breath stank."

Jamie chuckled at that last remark. "Did he try anything else?"

"No." River knew he was referring back to what had happened at the party. "Heck, I've not been very lucky with boys recently, have I?"

"I wouldn't say that," Jamie told her. "Do you want to be lucky with boys?"

River scoffed. "What sort of a question is that? I'm not a lesbian, if that's what you mean."

Jamie's face reddened. "I didn't mean it like that at all," he told her. "What I mean is, well, er..." He trailed off, not being able to get his words out. Leaning in close to River, he planted a gentle kiss on her lips.

River recoiled, barely able to process what had just happened. Her heart raced and her palms clammed up. "You-"

Jamie backed away and stood up, pacing around his room. "Sorry, that was out of order. I was taking a chance, and I took it wrong. Just forget that ever happened, yeah?"

"No." River stood up and walked over to him. Ignoring the fact that he was her best friend's brother, and it was breaking all kinds of unwritten friendship codes, she wrapped her arms around his neck and stood on her tiptoes to kiss him back.

She had no idea where the sudden burst of confidence had come from, but she wasn't going to complain about it. Something about the way Jamie had kissed her had felt right; much more natural than her previous two encounters with males. She hadn't got a clue what it was, but she liked it enough to want to return the gesture.

"Are you sure about this?" Jamie asked.

"Yes," River replied firmly, already certain inside herself that she had never been more sure of anything else in her life.

I've written it in the style I like to read them in - less is more when it comes to the physical side of things, but definitely good to put emotions and feelings in during and after the kiss.
 

Windcutter

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My kisses are also boring and without much physical description. But I like putting some drama in the circumstances. :)

(It might be not clear enough from the scene, the boy is a famous teenage psychic and MC was dragged in there by a friend, she actually hates all that stuff due to plot-related reasons.)
Perhaps there was a drop of that blood in him, generations ago, enough to turn his hair like that, enough to make his eyes tilt up at the corners, but he looked neither Asian nor Goth. I couldn’t place him. I only knew I had never, ever seen anyone like him.

And he totally pissed me off.

His eyes were light purple. What a show-off. The prick had to be wearing contacts.

I was losing patience with him, and when I’m losing patience, the whole world knows about it. That’s just the way I am.

“If I pay you another twenty, will you shut up for the rest of the séance?” I said, staring right back at him. “You need to fire whoever writes your lines. They suck.”

I stood over the empty table to get into his face. I didn’t know why he needed the furniture, he used no tools at all. No garish Tarot cards, snotty candles, fake crystals, plaster skulls, or any other weird stuff. There was just the light, airy room, just his lilting voice that sounded as if it could hypnotize you if you listened to it for too long. Just his stupid contacts, probably worth more than my coat—so lifelike, I saw flecks of a darker shade around his pupils when he leaned in and kissed me.

He stole my breath for a heartbeat, an electric charge so intense I couldn’t even tell whether it felt good or not, only that I wanted more. And I could have more, as much as I wished, he was so sweet, so pliant when I grabbed his shirt and trapped him in place.

When I slapped him so hard my own hand stung, he didn’t look sweet anymore.
 

AlishaS

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I'm just stopping by to say, I loved reading all these kissing scenes! I don't have one that I can post yet, but maybe I'll be back. Either way, very entertaining!
 

yellosharpie

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Love this tread! I think these scenes are so important, they need to be right. I'll throw one up here, probably needs some more editing but here goes.


“I’m pretty sure this is reasonable. I like you, you’re making me very nervous, and since you keep touching me I think I’m going to touch you,” he hesitated. “Yea, I’m going to.”


Keeping his eyes down he pulled his fingers through my hair then let it fall from his hand. Jonah glanced up at me from under his lashes and slowly he turned towards me. He placed his hand against my face, running his fingers over my cheeks, my eyebrows, my lips. Jonah was being so careful I was barely able to feel him, but I saw that he was trembling. His soft touches left me delighted and something stirred deep inside me.


“This is nice, huh? You got some pretty smooth skin and your hair is real soft, too. Do…”


I put my finger to his lips and he stopped for a moment, “I’m babbling, huh?” Jonah’s lips brushed my finger as he spoke, his hot breath rolling over the skin of my hand.


I leaned forward, “Do not say a word, unless you want to stop me.”


I waited for a protest that didn’t come. Leaning into him, I touched my lips lightly to his. Jonah’s eyes narrowed when I pulled away, his breathing uneven. His lips were so soft and warm, I wanted them again. Placing my hands behind his head, I pulled him into me, pushing my mouth to his. The pressure in me built up to an unbearable level as I moved my lips to his with an urgency that threatened to shatter me. Placing my hand against his chest, I felt his heart racing, his breathing quick and ragged. I tried to pull away. Jonah shook his head; pulling me back he pressed his body to mine. Jonah’s mouth was so very wet, his skin so smooth and fiery near mine. His hands moved over me with such eagerness that I was shaking. I thought he was moving next to me, but then I realized I was quivering. He urged his tongue to my lips touching it to mine; he growled and gripped my leg pulling me onto his lap. My hair fell over his face, his neck, and I felt him reach up and grab it, twisting it in his hands. I heard him moaning and I began losing my sense of sanity as I straddled him, touching every bit of naked skin I could find. Jonah put his hand on the back of my head crushing my lips to his. He pulled away and let his kisses linger on my neck, his hot breath leaving a burning trail on my skin. My head tilted back as I grasped at the back of his neck and his lips traveled down my throat, over my collarbone, then lower. His harsh breath left me gasping for air; to think that the sound of his breathing could leave me feeling so stripped thrilled me. I felt feverish as his hands traveled over my body. I didn’t know what to do with mine.


Jonah stopped to search my face. “Jesus Christ, Raysa, I think I’m having a heart attack,” he put his hand to his chest.


Biting his lips, he averted his eyes. He slid his hands to my waist and pushed me down roughly against him as he pressed his hips up to meet mine. Clutching my hips, he moved me in small, slow circles over him.


“What are you doing?” I gasped.


Jonah stopped. His cheeks were flushed and his lips swollen, fear was coming from his eyes. “I don’t know. I’m sorry, I don’t know what I’m doing, I thought…I wanted,” he was shivering beneath me.
 

Niiicola

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This was one of my favorite threads, so I'm resurrecting it and adding one of my newish scenes. Post more kissing, you guys!!

Then his hands are clutching my jaw and he's kissing me like he's drowning. I'm drowning too, angry and elated and overwhelmed by how I feel about him. His hot, desperate mouth on mine is familiar and inevitable, like we're coming back to each other, like we've done this for years.

Amir pulls back, his eyes raw with sadness. "I shouldn't have done that. I'm --"

"Don't say it." I put my hand over his mouth and peel myself away. "I'll see you in two days."
 
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Wilde_at_heart

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Okay, my first one is actually quite unromantic, where the FMC is ending a blind date with a guy her best friend had set her up with. He's really nice and they have loads in common but she just is not attracted to him. But feels terrible about turning someone down at the same time.

“That sounds great!” Jayne loved the idea of going to the lecture but she felt like she’d just agreed to a playdate with the dorkiest kid in school.
Tad lifted his hands to her sides, about to hug her. “Anyway...”
She stood frozen on her doorstep, waiting for him to leave, while he seemed to be expecting her to invite him inside.
“Can I kiss you?”
Jayne winced and shrugged awkwardly. “I guess.”
He pulled her close and gave her a long, wet, sloppy kiss. Jayne leaned backed but he kept kissing her, licking her lips and pushing his tongue deep into her mouth.
Finally he pulled his face away but still held her in his arms. She wiped her mouth with her sleeve. His eyes were closed as he smiled, oblivious.
“So what do you feel like doing now?” he asked. “It’s still pretty early.”
“Um, I’ve had a long day. I’m really tired.”
She turned her face just as he tried to kiss her mouth again. “You’re so beautiful. I can’t wait to see you Thursday.”
“Yeah, Thursday.”

And this is one of those 'love at first sight', at least in the FMC's mind.

Her body tingled as he placed his hands on her shoulders, bent down and kissed her cheek. His kiss lingered much longer than an ordinary peck and his breath was warm on her neck. His lips brushed her mouth as he said, “get home safe.”
 
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