✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

declan rice — SLOPPY KISSES

he stumbled right into you. catching him, your eyes meet his, and for a split second the world feels like its paused. it’s only him, and the rhythm of your hearts beating out of your chests.

he’s so achingly beautiful, you can’t help but reach up onto your tip toes and pull his lips to meet yours. it would’ve been hell of romantic had his lips not slightly curve past yours and nearly take off half your make up.

laughing into your cheek, he nuzzled his head into your shoulder to hide his embarrassment.

“I’m never this bad.” he groaned, pulling his face out of your shirt and pulling you closer into him, “you still love me, right?”

martin ødegaard — RELIEVED KISSES

the tackle happened quicker than you had anticipated. you thought you had a lot more time to move around the defender, but with one incalculable step, you were face planted into the turf. all you could feel was pain and the panic bubbling in your chest. how bad was the injury? how stupid could you be?

the noise began to fade away and soon enough you were opening your eyes to the florescent lights of the training room.

seated at the edge of the bed, was the sweet blond Norwegian who looked more shaken than a dog by thunder.

“oh my god,” the words rushed from his lips when he finally noticed you were awake. rushing to your bedside, he carefully cupped your face in his hands, “are you okay? that looked horrible.” his lips were gentle across your face, like he was trying to memorize every inch of you with his mouth.

“I’m fine, martin, you don’t need to worry.”

“worrying about you is part of my job.”

viktor gyokeres — WANDERING KISSES

breathless, he stares at you. in awe of your beauty and how you came undone perfectly for him. it had all started with those damn lips of his.

curled into your book, he climbed right into bed beside you, everything was completely innocent about this, until it wasn’t. he started at your shoulder, his lips faintly touching the skin there and they continued to travel down your body until they couldn’t anymore. he looked at you for approval to continue further, and with the book discarded onto the floor, he slowly worked his magic with those damn lips.

riccardo calafiori — CASUAL KISSES

“does this look okay?” you rushed into the living room, heels clicking against the tile floor, to show your boyfriend the dress you’d chosen.

“Oh— honey, I love this part,” your boyfriend points out. The glass bowl of strawberry ice cream is slowly melting into a pink puddle of sweetness, colourful dots of sprinkles floating around in the gooey substance. His other hand rubs between his cat’s — Mandy’s — ears, right over her adorable, fluffy head.

You’re curled up next to him, savouring the sentimental feeling of being with him, right here, right now. You want to keep him beside you forever. “You say that about every part,” you giggle. “And your ice cream’s melting, Mikey.”

You watch how the movie’s plot progresses: Sam goes to the dance. Her panties get stolen. Caroline starts a wild party at Jake’s house. With every scene, you melt further into Michael’s side, his body heat comfortable on your skin through your thin tank top, as you slurp on spoonfuls of strawberry ice cream.

Occasional mewls from Michael’s cat have you two giggling from time to time as the feline settles herself between you. You look like cat parents, you think. Other than that, Michael and you watch the movie in silence, apart from some breathy laughs and smart comments from you.

The last scene is playing when you start to shiver. Jake finally visits Sam in church, and surprises her with a birthday cake. Just when Jake tells Sam to make a wish, Michael’s big hands settles over your waist, warmth radiating off his skin like he’s the sun. “Is my baby cold?” He mumbles, doe eyes still glued to the television screen.

“A little.” You admit softly, resting your head in the crook of his neck. Your boyfriend chuckles, a hint of gentleness in the melody, even when he laughs.

“I know something that could warm you right up,” Michael stands up from the sofa, extending his hands out for you to take. He looks excited. “C’mon, honey girl.”

The mat with colourful circles is spread across Michael’s bedroom floor.

When Michael suggested a simple game of Twister, you almost couldn’t believe him. You haven’t touched the family game in almost a decade, and you’re pretty sure the box is rotting away in your family’s junk closet.

But the hopeful stare in Michael’s eyes— you couldn’t tell him no. And who knows, maybe it’d instigate a Twister obsession within you.

You’ve also brought reinforcements: Mandy paws at the clock-like board like it’s her favourite pastime, while Michael is folded open like a table, arms and legs keeping him up while he breathes heavily from shifting his arms in the right position without falling down.

You hate to admit it, but even in a crazy position like that, he looks delicious.

You’d pounce if you weren’t folded like an origami-crane yourself. Both of your legs are so far apart, your left arm extended all the way to Michael’s, while your right arm is planted right between your legs.

“Your turn.” Michael grunts out. Oh boy.

He gives Mandy a small nod, and the cat attacks the hand of the little cardboard board. In a way, it looks like your boyfriend can speak with his pets. It’s weird, how they fully understand him.

“Right hand to yellow.” Michael speaks, and you let out an embarrassing sigh. Your right arm was starting to get all sorts of tingles and cramps in this position.

Your right hand crawls to the nearest yellow dot, unknowingly hovering over Michael in the process. When you finally find your footing, you realise you’re literally hanging over him.

It’s embarrassing. But sweet. How his eyes look up to you from beneath you. Treading lightly. His jean-clad thigh scrapes the inside of your knee. A flush of redness blooms across Michael’s cheekbones from the close proximity. Thinking slightly.

Both of you still. The depth of the situation you’re in is dawning around you. Your breath feels heavy in your heart when a shy smile graces your mouth.

“Hi, Mikey.”

“Hi, honey girl,” the noiret answers. His eyes scan your face slowly. “You look sexy from down here.” His admission is honest yet sweet, but his words seem to be your great undoing.

Your arms quiver beneath you. “Shut up. You’re making me lose!” His words always have this effect on you, and you can never be normal about it.

“How can I shut up when the prettiest girl in the world ‘s so close to me?” Michael says, craning his neck up just slightly. His breath ghosts over your lips. The fruity, sweet smell of the strawberry ice cream still lingers on his breath.

“You’re such a sap,” you reply, but a part of you still feels flattered. Your eyes flick over to Mandy the cat, signalling her to give the hand a spin again. “Okay, Mikey, your tu—”

Before you can even finish your sentence, Michael settles his mouth over yours. An explosion of strawberry and mint swirls through you. You let out a muffled gasp in surprise when you hear a dull thud of Michael’s body collapsing to the floor.

“Michael, what are you doing—”

“Just, kiss me.” He breathes, pulling you in by the back of your knee to pull your body flush to his on the ground. His touch feels deliberate, tender.

You separate yourself from him again. “But Mandy’s watching.”

“Don’t care.” Michael grits out, pulling your face closer to his in a desperate attempt to kiss you again. “Just want to feel you.”

And this time you let him. What started as an innocent, fun game of Twister ended up in a heated make out session. His strong hands travel to your thighs, over your hips, pulling up your top with the lightest touch.

“Mike— just take it off,” you whisper frantically between kisses. You can’t contain yourself anymore, tugging at the hem of his white tee.

Michael grins at your desperate ministrations. “Patience, baby,” his hands are fidgety on your hips. With ease, he attaches his lips to the spot under your ear, right where you’re always sensitive to his touch. “Gonna take my time with you.”

Because everything Michael does, he does in earnest. With full attention on you only. Kissing you. Touching you. He wants to feel every fibre of skin, the swell of your cheeks when you smile whenever his lips touch yours.

You feel like you’re going insane. You’re pretty sure you are insane. “Don’t be like that, please.” You whisper, voice cracked.

“Like what? I just wanna enjoy you—” He uses his weight to roll you over. You, on your back on the Twister mat, and him scattering butterfly kisses over your collarbones. His free hand pulls up your top, his head immediately lowering to your stomach. The wet kisses he places there feel sacred, fluttery on your skin.

You release a couple of breathy giggles as you peer down at your boyfriend between your legs, your fingers gently finding purchase in his messy hair. The two of you are lost in the moment.

Then, a booming knock on the door interrupts your little moment. The bedroom door creaks open, and then—

Joe’s impending presence of doom looms over the two of you. The look in his eyes is stony as he scans over the careless position Michael has thrown you in. If you weren’t embarrassed before, you definitely are now.

“Michael, get the hell off that girl. I need you in my office. Now.”