#and used cigarettes as bday candles

[wannaeatramyeon]

I have a question, is Jake's all teeth real? Like, didn't Gun break some of them?

Jake Kim x Reader: Teeth

"Wow."

Jake responds with some incomprehensible noises.

"They did a good job, didn't they?"

A small nod.

"They feel good?"

Another nod.

"Really impressive."

More noises.

As unhygienic and unseemly as it is, your fingers continue to probe and run along his teeth, scrutinising the handiwork in-depth. If your head moves any closer inspecting your boyfriend's unbelievably realistic implants, you might be in danger of shoving your entire head in his mouth.

At the sight of Jake's adam apple bobbing, desperately trying to swallow with his mouth wide wide open, you yield. Backing away and removing your spit-covered fingers.

"Very nice. Very handsome." You say, kissing him and wiping your grubby fingers on his shirt.

Jake, any self-consciousness completely forgotten and confidence returning in full force, gives you a toothy grin and a wink in return.

[joshfutturman]

ੈ♡˳ jhutch char bday headcanons gn!reader

summary: celebrating your birthday headcanons for josh futturman (future man), derek danforth (the beekeeper), mike schmidt (fnaf), billy (burn), clapton davis (detention) and peeta mellark (the hunger games). some suggestive elements, food tw. a/n: happy birthday jhutch!

ੈ♡˳ josh futturman

♡ he'd definitely throw you a surprise birthday party, goes all out with decorations and balloons. ♡ your cake would be personalised and special made, but what you don't know is that he secretly tried to bake you a cake that went so badly that he had to throw it away. ♡ can't stop looking at you the whole day cause he wants to make sure you're enjoying it. ♡ orders your favourite takeaway for dinner. you sit in his lap as you eat it, a movie playing on the tv in his room. but he's not watching the movie, he's just looking at you with those puppy dog love stricken eyes of his.

ੈ♡˳ derek danforth

♡ absolutely spoils you with gifts, anything you want, you got it. there's too many gifts for you to count, and more comes throughout the day. ♡ his limo picks you up and drops you off at a fancy restaurant where he meets you for dinner, littering your neck with kisses in front of the entire place. ♡ surprise! he's rented the rooftop bar for drinks, it's just derek, you and the stars. ♡ he whispers sweet nothings in your ear, talking about how you'll get your real gift later in his penthouse. in bed.

ੈ♡˳ mike schmidt

♡ he works extra shifts for weeks to afford something nice for you. he tries to hide the blush on his cheeks, looking anywhere but into your eyes as he gives you your gift. ♡ he and abby bake you a cake, it's adorable. abby helps you blow out the candles. ♡ you all watch a movie together, bundled up under blankets with takeout pizza. mike can't seem to wipe the smile from his face. ♡ later, mike kisses you senseless in bed, mumbling about how he's so lucky to have you.

ੈ♡˳ billy

♡ he wakes you with feather-light kisses along your neck, whispering 'happy birthday babe' in your ear. ♡ takes you to a drive-in movie, making out with you during the credits. ♡ spends the full day joined to your hip, kissing you and wrapping his arms around you every chance he can get. ♡ pretends he hasn't bothered to get you a cake, but then surprises you later, using one of the lit candles to light his own cigarette with a smirk on his face.

ੈ♡˳ clapton davis

♡ makes you your very own birthday mixtape, filled with songs that remind him of you. ♡ he bakes a cake for you, it's kind of a disaster, but he still presents it to you with a massive smile on his face. ♡ lays with you under the stars as you both talk about your future and listen to your mixtape, hands intertwining. ♡ he presses soft kisses to your face, your nose, your lips, your eyes, your forehead, each time telling you something different he loves about you.

ੈ♡˳ peeta mellark

♡ he greets you with breakfast in bed and flowers with a shy but proud smile on his face. ♡ gives you your gifts shyly, with a flush on his face but an eager smile, hoping you like the personalised presents. one of which is a jar, filled with love notes for you to open every day. ♡ you slow dance in the kitchen after dinner, resting your head into the crook of his neck as he hums to you. ♡ gives you such strong, warm hugs the whole day. the kind that make you feel safe, like nothing bad can ever happen while he's got you.

[toomuchracket]

hey so i have absolutely no idea what this is or where it came from or which au it works for (maybe bday party or barista? idk), but here - a sultry little newly-dating matty drabble for you all:

"oh, thank you," you smile as matty hands you a glass of wine, and giggle as he leans down to press an easy kiss onto your glossy, mango-flavoured lips. his taste, as always, like spearmint gum and a hint of cigarettes; you think the combination is quickly becoming your favourite flavour. of course, the smoky sandalwood of the candle he's currently lighting is definitely up there too. "are you wasting a stupidly expensive candle on me, matthew?"

"beautiful girls deserve beautiful things, darling."

he flicks a cheeky grin back to you, and you curl further into the sofa, hiding your face behind your wine. you've never been good with compliments, and matty has an awful habit of dropping them into conversation as easy as breathing and totally overwhelming you - when you speak, your voice comes out as a murmur. "less of that nonsense, please."

"s'not nonsense, it's fact. but i really, really want you to stay here as long as possible tonight, so i'll try and keep the facts about you to a minimum."

"thank you."

"for you, anything. speaking of," he gestures to the shelves upon shelves of LPs on the wall opposite you. "wanna pick a record for us to put on, sweetheart?"

a sip of wine, a shake of the head. "you pick, please."

"alright," matty stands, scanning the collection for a second, reaching up to slide a couple of records out and deliberating. his shirt comes untucked at the back, and you have to force yourself not to fixate on the dimples at the base of his spine instead of listening to him. "so, tell me. what's new with you this week?"

you shrug. "nothing much, really. finished that work thing i was telling you about..."

"the new project?"

"yeah, just waiting for feedback on it. aside from that, it's been really quiet," you take another sip of wine as you watch matty carefully move the needle, and a memory pops into your head alongside the slow soul melody filling the room; you blurt it out before the nerves get the better of you. he'll like this. "oh, and i realised i can't make myself cum anymore."

as expected, it gets to matty - he coughs, turning and blinking up at you in bewilderment. the words seem to sink in after a second, and his pretty face shifts into a half-smirk. "yeah?" he crosses to the couch in two strides, settling himself at the opposite end from you and manoeuvring your stockinged feet onto his lap; as he has a drink of his wine, a calloused finger from the other hand traces patterns on your ankle, leaving goosebumps in its wake despite the 40-denier barrier between your respective bare skin. "please enlighten me on how you figured that one out, gorgeous."

you roll your eyes. "how'd you think?"

"well, i can tell you what i'd like to think," matty downs the rest of his wine, shuffling closer along the couch towards you; he stops when his thigh meets yours, and the closeness is thrilling. a thumb swipes tenderly over your knee. "but i'd like to hear the truth from you, please."

"alright," a smile etches its way onto your face, as it always does when he looks at you all gooey-eyed like this; it grows when you stretch to lay your glass down and his eyes trail down to your chest, and a matching one appears on his face when your hand softly cards through his hair. "hands, pillow, showerhead, vibrator, in that order, in the span of maybe... two hours? and nothing, not one method, none of it could get me off," you huff out a laugh, loving the way matty's eyes close and a small moan leaves his lips at the thought. "think you've ruined anything and everything else for me, baby."

matty hums happily, gently tugging you so you're straddling his lap and resting his arms on your hips. when he opens his eyes, you shiver excitedly at the way his pupils have dilated with want. "should've phoned me, darling," he practically coos, voice low and all but dripping with sex. "always more than willing to give you what you want, what you need."

"i know," you rest your forehead against matty's, head growing dizzy at the way your breath mingles with his. "but i couldn't have phoned you that night, baby, i really couldn't."

you feel his brow furrow. "why not?"

"because," you smile, practically into his mouth. "it wasn't long after you'd left mine. didn't want you to think i was, y'know, desperate," you laugh, and so does he, soft as silk. "but i couldn't stop thinking about you, matty. i can't stop, ever, actually, not at all."

"feeling's mutual, sweetheart."

"yeah?"

"yeah," he tilts his head, lips finding yours with pinpoint accuracy; you melt into him, sighing softly as his tongue swipes across your skin and into your mouth, simultaneously forceful and delicate and just so uniquely... matty. he breaks away at the last possible second before oxygen becomes an immediate necessity, chuckling as he gulps for air and softly caresses your hips. "fuck, you're so good. jesus," he beams, wild-eyed and messy-haired, and something in your heart cracks. "really wanna make up for the other night, now, darling, if you'll let me."

"please," your voice is wanton, but you're too wired to be embarrassed about that - it's not like you could be, anyway, with matty looking at you so sexily. "how do you want me?"

"christ, so many ways... can i deliberate while i take you to bed?"

you nod, kissing him again with a smile. "can do anything you want."

[myers-meadow]

yes WOW is this a masterpiece!

Lester's innocence in this contrasts so painfully perfectly with both of the twins' cynicism about the birthday:

'"So, only one cake?" Lester asks again"

and

"Lester claps. He always was more excited about them celebrating than they ever were."

And how it ties in the end, where Les gets them a cake still;; and takes their preferences into account, which is more than their parents did for them... oh boy

As for the imagery: both Bo and Vince using the bday candles to light cigarettes!! That's so good. It sums up perfectly how they feel about it all, but that they still go through with it, its wonderful. They care, in their own way, despite of it all.

"Later, when they're cramped together in Vincent's bed, Bo whispers, "Thanks for savin' me some cake."'

This, also - not only is it beautiful, but it shows so much about their dynamic, about how they have each others backs. And how secretly, perhaps the ritual (or sharing it with each other) means something to Bo after all.

"Bo doesn't say anything. Doesn't turn around. He grips Vince's hand tighter in his own."

This- just, their understanding of each other. It has me both so sad and soft for them.

Thank you for sharing this, im really touched by it

just means there's way more cake for me

in honour of the terrible twins, i present to you a vague and unreliable account of some of bo and vincent's birthdays throughout the years, until they finally make it to 23. divider by @ suckgirl. WARNING for angst (who's surprised though, really?), mild depression and maybe implied child neglect?

Lester only half-remembers when he first realised that Bo and Vincent had the same birthday. He must of been three or four and, as his mother lit the candles on the twins' birthday cake, he asked "Why Bo 'n Vin only got one cake?"

Bo and Vince are stood on the other side of the counter, scuffing the toes of their trainers while they wait for mama to tell them what to do. They perk up at the sound of their names

"Because they're twins, sweetheart," Mama says, tone clipped.

Bo walks around and picks Lester up beneath the armpits, holding him high enough to get a full view of the cake on the counter. The frosting is baby blue, the lettering -- Happy Birthday, Bo and Vincent -- is immaculate. "Yeah, remember, Les? Me 'n Vince were born on the same day."

"So, only one cake?" Lester asks again.

Bo's lowers him back down gently and his baby brother blinks up at him with curious eyes, waiting for his answer. There's a waver in his voice when he finally speaks, "Yeah, Les. One cake." He doesn't mention that he doesn't exactly think it's fair either, but mama wouldn't like that. He's already told he's ungrateful enough without something else to add to the list.

When the candles are lit, mama calls daddy in from the living room and turns out the kitchen lights.

Only mama and Lester sing Happy Birthday, their father remains stoically by the door to the kitchen. Lester hasn't quite mastered the words yet, so he stumbles through his rendition a beat behind their mama. It's the thought that counts.

The smell of smoke still drifts through the kitchen as the twins sit at the table and eat their neat slices of cake. Mama is putting the rest of it under a cake-cover. Their father has gone back to his office.

Midnight.

They've been up all night, talking about nothing and everything and school and the future, but a heavy silence had fallen over them in the few minutes before the hour. When the clock on Bo's bedside ticked over to 12, they both released a breath they didn't know they were holding.

They wait another minute, then another, as if making sure they really made it. Every year felt like they'd stolen it somehow. Like at any minute things would be cut short because this wasn't meant to happen. Eventually Vincent rolls over onto his side, settling down to sleep. Bo follows suit, falling asleep with his twin snoring softly in his ear.

They say grace before dinner that night, and mama adds a line about how they're also thankful for God blessing them with another year of the twins' lives. She's included this line on every birthday since they could remember.

Vincent doesn't believe in God anymore. He doesn't really believe in anything, come to think of it. He and Bo still share a birthday cake, and when they blow out the candles after dinner, Vince isn't sure who he's meant to be wishing to. He doesn't think wishes are real anyway. 16 years of wishes and precisely none of them have come true.

Bo believes in God. When he and Vince blow out their birthday candles, he still makes a wish, even though God hasn't pulled through on any of his wishes before. Or any of his prayers, come to think of it.

Bo is at work on their birthday. Working late, too. It's well past dinner by the time he gets home.

Mama's gone to bed, she has a headache. Daddy's out of town on business. Vince and Lester are sat in front of the TV.

Lester twists around to lean over the back of the couch, watching Bo as he sheds his jacket and toes his boots off at the door. "Bo!" he greets. "How w'work?"

"It was work," Bo replies. He's been pulling overtime. His shoulders ache as he rolls them back, trying to release the knotted muscle between his shoulder blades. "How w'school?"

"It was school," Lester says, then chortles with laughter at his witty repetition.

Bo walks around to the couch, ruffling Lester's perpetually messy hair as he passes before sitting down heavily between his brothers. He props his feet up on the coffee table. Even his regular shift at the mill were starting to feel longer and longer.

The cake had already been cut, after dinner but before mama went to bed. But Vincent goes into the kitchen, brings out a single slice with two glowing candles in it. Bo rolls his eyes, as Vincent half-grins.

"Do the honours?" Vince asks, gesturing at the candles.

Bo grins back, "Well, if you insist, brother mine."

He eats his cake in front of the TV, watching MacGyver and with Lester leaning his head on his shoulder. If this is the start of the end of his adolescence, Bo supposes he can't complain.

Later, when they're cramped together in Vincent's bed, Bo whispers, "Thanks for savin' me some cake."

Vince nods against Bo's neck. It was the least he could do. He's going back to Baton Rouge tomorrow, it's a shame they couldn't spend more time together.

Vincent wants to be upset. He wants to feel the full sting of it. Bo is carrying their cake out to the darkened living room on a plate and Vincent wants to cry at the mockery of a party Bo has pulled together for him. For them. It's always them.

But Bo is grinning, illuminated only by the flickering birthday candles, and for once he's trying. He's really trying to make this easier on his brother. It is Vincent's -- their -- first birthday since dropping out of college, after all.

"Happy birthday to us," Bo starts, placing the cake down on the coffee table. He sits down beside Vince on the couch. "Happy birthday to us."

Lester chimes in, "Happy birthday, Bo and Vincent," as he sits cross-legged on the floor by the coffee table.

"Happy birthday to us," Bo finishes.

"Happy birthday to us," Vincent repeats, his lip pulling into a resigned smile.

When Bo nudges his elbow and says "Do the honours?"

Vincent nods automatically, leaning forward and extinguishing every flame in one go. Bo is trying, he reminds himself.

Lester claps. He always was more excited about them celebrating than they ever were. Maybe it's the novelty of it all that captures Les' interest, seemingly captures everyone's interest.

As Lester jumps up to flick the lights back on, Vincent thinks about their last birthday. About bars and boys and music that rattled the window panes and about how he drank too much and about how Bo wasn't there. Bo hadn't been able to make it down to Baton Rouge.

Long after Lester has gone to sleep, the twins are still awake, squashed together in Bo's bed that had become too cramped for the both of them years ago. It's then that Vincent lets himself cry. Even with his arms tight around Bo, he can't stop himself. Maybe it's because of Bo. Of course, it's because of Bo; it's always because of Bo.

Bo doesn't say anything. Doesn't turn around. He grips Vince's hand tighter in his own.

The twins weren't going to bother with a cake this year, they told themselves. They didn't have time, they couldn't agree on one and they'd never cared about their birthday to begin with. But, with a week to go, Lester was still asking about it, insisting he could pick something up for them, no trouble at all. As usual, they cannot agree.

The big day arrives and the cake that Lester delivers to their kitchen table isn't exactly perfect, but it's something. And, surprisingly, it is exactly what they both asked for. A chocolate cake, frosted half in caramel and half in vanilla. Funny, no one had thought to do that for them before. There are only two candles on the cake, the fancy ones in the shape of numbers. A two and a three.

As Lester drawls his way through a rendition of happy birthday, Bo and Vincent shuffle in their seats, forever unsure of what to do while all the attention was on them. Beneath the table, Bo fumbles with his cigarette packet, nudging Vincent's knee to offer him one too. Vincent hasn't had a smoke in a while; he's trying to quit. Well, cut down, at least. Well.

Lester's singing comes to an end and Bo and Vince lean forward to light up their smokes with the candles. Lester frowns as he processes the scene, then he lets out a chortling laugh.

The twins sit back. Bo breaths out through his nose, turning away from the cake out of a practiced politeness.

"Brother mine," Vincent gestures with his cigarette.

"After you," Bo insists.

They lean forward again, and with one puff the candles are snuffed out.

[assholemurphy]

so i forgot rafiki had a thing tonight (some video game thing the comp club puts on every semester, i wanna go to one but like, too many nerds, too many gross ‘nice guys’, etc) so i didn’t get kidnapped tonight, so my friends and i (minus rafiki, but plus gg, who is new and fucking great) hung out and ate cake. and we made a podcast (that will probs never be uploaded until we get enough common sense between us to have a solid fucking plan of what we want to do besides make bad jokes) which was great until somehow we got on the topic of trans ppl and pb and i got into an argument abt it (guess who’s on what side) and i can’t even remember how it was brought up??? but i’ve told him countless times i don’t want to argue abt lgbtq+ issues bc he’s a dumbass (like, he’s a great fucking guy, an absolute amazing human being, but he’s got misguided views and just generally doesn’t try to understand when i say stuff regarding lgbtq+ stuff) which just fucking spiraled into a p heated argument and i ended up crying bc i do that. i’ve got a lot of trauma regarding bdays and other family holidays and arguing tonight just made it so much worse, which sucks bc it was a rly nice day before that, like, i actually enjoyed it so much that when i was supposed to blow out my candles, i couldn’t think of a single wish so goldilocks blew them out for me, it was great. i’ve never been unable to think of something i want to wish for before, but like, being in theatre/finding my place in the world, finding the self confidence necessary to have sex with ppl when i feel like it (i’ve got two guys currently that wanna fuck me, but one of them sends up MAJOR warning signals so i’m probs not gonna fuck him, plus 1 maybe 2 girls that wanna fuck, it’s great, i love this shit, makes me feel good abt myself), having an apartment so i don’t have to live on campus/go home every break, and having some of the most amazing friends in the world, i couldn’t think of anything i rly wanted in that moment. i’ve got them, that enough for me, ya know? but then the argument started (and it wasn’t like the previous one we’d had abt communism vs. capitalism we’d had while the cake was baking bc that one evened out p quickly and we actually talked instead of just talking over each other) and everything went to shit. he threw his phone at me to make me read a source he’d found and i just kinda broke bc i’ve had things thrown at me all my life and even tho he said he didn’t do it in anger, it felt like it was, so i got pissed off and told him if he did it again, i’d hurt him (i’m a v angry person and i can get incredibly violent when i feel threatened or when i’m triggered back into a place where that kind of thing was the only thing keeping me alive) and so it just got worse and then he said something abt me thinking he was a horrible person and i called him a dumbass (bc that is the farthest thing from what i think, i don’t think i’ve met a better person ever, even if some of his views suck) and then i just kinda broke and hugged him and told him that he was stupid for even thinking i’d ever think that (i’m p sure i just called him a dumbass again and told him what i rly thought of him) and then things calmed down and it turned into a ‘hey, jackass (me), fix yourself, you absolute fuckwit’ talk, which we have often and things were worked out. he’s also the greatest person to hug bc while he is tiny, i trust him completely and therefore feel v safe when he’s touching me, unlike how i am with literally ever other person on the planet, and he’s the perfect height for me to put my head on his shoulder and yes, it’s nice, you should all get yourself a pretty boy, so he can make you cry and do all the exact wrong things at the wrong time and then fix them all completely by hugging you and telling you to straighten your shit out. it’s great. i could do without the first part, but like, i’ll take it. so things are fine now, i think. i hope.

but apparently most ppl in the theatre dept think i have a crush on him which is????? no???? wtf????? can a chick and a dude not be friends w/o ppl thinking this? must i be reserved and cold towards everybody in my life? am i not allowed to have a best friend that i’d kill for and trust explicitly and feel safe enough with to be the caring person i actually am underneath all my trauma? it’s fucking annoying and it bothers me so damn much. but he won’t tell me who keeps saying it and just kind of implies the whole theatre and i just, ugh, no. if i was gonna have a crush on a victory bro, it certainly wouldn’t be him. no offense to him or anything, i love the guy, but like, he’s too sweet and gentle and shit for my tastes. his brother on the other hand, well, eh, okay, this is more of a ‘if i had to pick or die’ kinda thing, bc i just can’t see myself wanting to date either one, tbh. i love them both, they mean the world to me, but they’re just friends. well, no, they’re my family, actually. but to date??? nope. but i have no idea what to do to make the dept not think this. no fucking idea. i just don’t like the idea of them thinking i’m pining after him when i’m decidedly not. the guy means the world to me and i’d fucking kill for him, hell, i’d die for him (and i don’t say that lightly), but just, no romo, dude. but w/e, i guess. let the masses think what they will, he’s perfectly aware i don’t have a crush on him and that’s all that matters (bc if those fucks made him think i did and caused our relationship to get weird, i’d kick all their asses one by one).

so i’ll probs be getting kidnapped by rafiki tomorrow night. then i’ll get drunk. but i’m also seeing my mom tomorrow after the show which will be nice (mainly bc i am broke and require a trip to walmart, mainly for soda, monster, and cigarettes, plus i need to go by the bank and put $20 on my card so i can pay the internet bill). i say nice. i mean ‘i hope it’s not painful’ but when it’s usually just us and not the rest of my family, too, then things are generally p chill. we���ll see how that works out.

i’ve got to be up at like, 11a, 12p at the latest tomorrow for the show bc call time is 12:30p (the show is at 2p, but i’ve got to sweep/mop the theatre and shit bc that’s my job as an asm, then i’ll have like 45 min to wait up in the booth with gg and pb (and eventually goldilocks) so it’ll be alright. but for right now, i’m gonna try to write a bit so i don’t fall asleep with my emotions running so high, bc if i do, the chances of me having night terrors increases tenfold. so, a bit of writing and then sleep by like 6:30a. i’ve been surviving off of 4/5 hours of sleep this week, so i’ll be fine on that much. i’ve got monster. i’ll survive. (i could survive just abt anything with enough caffeine, nicotine, and adderall, not even kidding.)

so, i’m off to write a bit. hopefully i can get at least part of the (incredibly fucking long, jfc, what the hell am i doing with my life) smut scene written tonight.

[eorumverba]

anyw...happy birthday my lovely twin @judaru im lov u sm nd i hope..u had a Good bday

Kiss (verb - with object): touch with the lips as a sign of love, sexual desire, reverence, or greeting

1.The Forehead Kiss

Judal is asleep now, stretched out on Sinbad’s couch, and Sinbad can’t help the fond smile that spreads across his lips as he hears a quiet snore come from behind him. He’s doing work at the coffee table, and some point, between bothering Sin and playing games on his phone, Judal had fallen asleep. And Sinbad doesn’t blame him - Judal has the attention span of a toddler and he’d probably gotten bored, closed his eyes, and promptly knocked out.

Sinbad is now finally used to the kid’s sleep schedule, or lack of - Judal never manages to sleep for more than a few hours at a time, and ends up wandering around the house with heavy bags under his eyes even as he bugs Sinbad for hours on end. He’ll retreat to his or Sin’s rooms and Sinbad will usually find him under a pile of blankets, snoring away. Judal is a light sleeper, and that makes it even worse; Sinbad types out a reminder to buy more fragrant teas and candles for Judal. Sometimes the soothing aromas help him sleep better, and Judal always brews the best loose leaf tea.

Judal shifts and mumbles something out in his sleep, so Sinbad gathers his things as quietly as he can and stands, putting his things in the kitchen before detouring to his room to grab a heavy blanket for Judal. After draping the blanket over Judal’s lanky frame, Sinbad bends down and brushes his lips against warm skin, pulling away when Judal stirs. He doesn’t wake though - just rolls over and Sinbad smiles to himself again before dimming the lights and retreating to the kitchen so he can at least try to get some more work done.

2. Kiss on the Hand

For how uncommon it is for two men to be seen dancing together, there is a lot of it being done at Lord Sinbad’s annual winter ball. This is Judal’s first year receiving an invitation, and he fingers the silver envelope, anxiousness coiling through his belly. It’s a masquerade this year, and he’d been sure his long hair would give him away, so he’d taken a risk and purchased a billowy ice white dress and had thin silvery-white flowers placed in the elegant braid of his hair. His delicate mask completes the costume - he’s a swan, elegant and beautiful.

The carriage stops and Judal ignores the helping hand to step down on his own, balancing easily in his heels. He’s almost having second thoughts about the whole thing, but he swallows all his unease and follows the queue of people inside.

The ballroom is vast and somehow crowded already, dresses of all color swirling alongside dark suits - it would seem like any other ball, if not for the men dancing together alongside women doing the same. But who is he to judge, Judal decides, considering he’s the one wearing a dress. He spots Hakuryuu flirting with Alibaba’s redhaired escort but doesn’t go over to them, choosing instead to retire to the balcony, breathing in as deep as he can. The air smells faintly of roses and lavender, and Judal can’t help imagining reclining on a bed scattered with fragrant petals, still in his dress but not in his horrid corset. (It does wonders for his figure, but it’s not like he needs it.)

Someone clears their throat from behind him and Judal spins around, breath catching in his throat at the sight of high cheekbones and tan skin. Lord Sinbad.

“Dance with me,” Sinbad demands, and Judal is helpless to his whim.

They spin together in the middle of the ballroom, Judal’s cold hand warming under Sinbad’s. Sin’s other hand flirts with the curve of Judal’s waist, daring to push the boundary of what’s acceptable as his lips curve up, playful. His mask is nothing but a strip of cloth tied around his eyes, and Judal rolls his own.

“You didn’t try hard this year, Lord Sinbad.” Sinbad doesn’t seem at all surprised or perturbed at the deep voice paired with slim, otherwise feminine features.

“Just Sin. Who are you?”

“Judal.”

“Ah. You turned eighteen this year, no?”

“I did.”

“My - ah...what would you call him? Assistant? He has a rule against inviting anyone under eighteen because, well. One of Hakuryuu’s stepsisters - I thought she was old enough, but alas.” Sinbad’s sigh is dramatic and although Judal does know Kougyoku fairly well, he can’t help smiling, laughing a little.

“A very wise rule, Sinbad, considering your reputation.”

“Reputation?” there’s a roguish grin flirting with Sinbad’s lips, but before Judal can answer, the song comes to an end and they bow to each other. Sin takes one of Judal’s hands in his own and presses soft lips to his skin, lingering for a touch too long before straightening again, still holding Judal’s hand.

“I have to go make more rounds, but save a dance or two for me, Judal.”

Shocked to silence by Sinbad’s easy grin, Judal nods weakly. As the night goes on, he finds out that it’s impossible for him to say no to Sinbad.

3. The Lingering Kiss

Judal is more than half-asleep, lounging on the rock they’re slumped against. The sun is beating down on them but they’ve just come from a swim so the heat is more than welcome, and the gentle waves stir their tail - they’ve lost Sinbad a while back but Judal can’t really bring themself to care with how relaxed they are. There comes a rippling of the water and Judal’s eyes flutter open to see Sinbad next to them, propping himself up by his elbows and staring at them with nothing but love in his eyes.

They don’t need words anymore from the many years that they’ve been together, but Sinbad still moves slowly as he shifts over so he’s behind Judal. He drops a chaste kiss to the skin of Judal’s forehead before beginning to comb his fingers through Judal’s inky tresses, humming under his breath as he does so. The gentle fingers scratching their scalp makes Judal shift and purr, lips curving up despite themself. They’ve always been so weak for having their hair played with.

They don’t know how long they stay like that, with Sinbad’s hands in their hair and only the sun and sea for company, but it changes when Sin’s hands press against Judal’s cheeks, a wordless sign that he’s finished. Sin swims around again and heaves himself up on the rock, blanketing Judal’s body with his own and pushing his hair from Judal’s skin when Judal huffs.

Sinbad tastes like saltwater and Judal wants to drown in the taste flooding their senses, and they tangle their fingers through long, wet hair to pull Sinbad closer, their lips sliding effortlessly against Sin’s. Sin’s smiling against Judal’s lips and he slowly drops so there’s no space between them, just skin against skin and tail against tail.

“Hi there,” Sin murmurs after one last teasing suck to Judal’s lower lip. He looks so effortlessly beautiful like this, tanned skin and dark hair and shining eyes focused on them, “what are you thinking about?”

“You.”

Sin flushed pink and his smile turns softer, shy and when they duck down for another slow kiss, it says all the things he can’t.

4. The Vampire Kiss They’re both far too drunk for this and that makes it all the better; Judal barely feels his back slam against the bathroom stall’s wall, focusing instead on the man pressing against him, hot skin and even hotter lips. He tastes like whiskey and cigarette smoke, and he swallows all of Judal’s pitched noises as easy as breathing. He mouths his way down the column of Judal’s neck, lips like fire against Judal’s throat. Judal bites back a moan when the man’s teeth scrape against his skin but it’s nothing compared to the strangled noise he makes when the man really bites.

This time when they kiss, it tastes like whiskey and cigarette smoke and sweat and sugar - the man pulls away and his breaths are harsh when he asks, “Is that sugar?”

Judal laughs and leans back, catching his breath as well before murmuring, ���Why don’t you see how far down it goes?”

His stranger kisses the smirk from Judal’s lips before trailing back down to his neck, and if the way he’s attacking the skin of Judal’s neck says anything, he’ll have marks to boast about this for weeks.

5. The French Kiss

Fanservice. It’d been just that - fanservice.

That’s what Judal tells himself, what he tells the others, but they all know that this had been a long time coming. All of the comments on Judal’s twitter and instagram are asking if he’s dating Sin and since when - Judal turns off his phone and goes to his laptop instead. He doesn’t have to do much digging to find what he’s after, and watching the video, he does have to admit that it doesn’t look like fanservice, not by the end.

They’re in the middle of a song and Sin has always loved skinship, pushing boundaries, fanservice - so Judal isn’t surprised to feel a heavy arm thrown around his shoulders as Sin lets the cheering crowd sing his lines. Sin’s grinning and Judal doesn’t know if it’s the adrenaline pungent in the air or the joy mirrored in Judal’s stomach and Sin’s eyes, but something makes Judal cup Sin’s cheek (which isn’t unusual, and it just makes the crowd roar louder as Sin’s smile grows) and lean in and close his eyes as his lips press to Sin’s.

He can’t hear the crowd anymore, entirely focused on the stop of Sin’s breath before Sin’s lips begin to move against his, eager as he licks into Judal’s mouth. Somewhere in the back of Judal’s mind, he wonders if maybe they shouldn’t be doing this where thousands of people can record it, but the little noise Sin makes makes Judal melt into him.

And when he finally draws away, he’s breathless and eager, but Sin is smiling, and Judal realizes that he’s absolutely screwed.

6. The Spiderman Kiss

If Judal has chosen this tree to lounge in on purpose, no one needs to know - Judal gazes down at Sinbad beneath him, head pillowed by his arms. He’s more than half held up on the thin tree branch by magic, but it’s also partly his own balancing skill. Sinbad is directly beneath him, and while he has paperwork spread out in front of him, held down by pretty looking paperweights, he’s been nodding off for the past half hour.

And Judal doesn’t blame him - the shade of the tree is the perfect combatant against the heat of the afternoon sun, and it’s quiet here, warm and still.

And Sinbad is here.

Judal would like to think that his traitorous heart is fluttering from the sights around him and not from the man below him, but he knows it’s not - it’s the light scent of roses and something earthier, it’s Sinbad.

Quietly, Judal slips from the branch he’s perched on and lets his magic float him down so he’s upside down in front of Sinbad. Judal’s eyes fall to Sin’s lips and he purses his own before reaching out to touch the swell of Sin’s lower lip. It’s soft, soft enough for Judal to lean in further, just enough to brush his lips against Sin’s. It’s when he’s about to pull away that Sin shifts in his sleep and immediately, Judal lets his magic carry him back up to his branch, where he watches Sinbad stir awake with flushed cheeks and trembling fingers, the memory of his stolen kiss enough to keep him flustered for the rest of the day.

7. The Bite and Nibble

For some reason, Judal love love loves to bite - Sinbad is long used to the sting of Judal’s teeth on whatever part of skin is available, to the soft brush of his tail before he bites down hard. He always always always leaves marks, and he’ll hum in approval as he looks at the bruises before moving away like nothing’s happened.

Sin had been startled at first, but it’s nothing out of the ordinary now - just one of Judal’s habits. Which is why he barely flinches when Judal comes up to him and squats in front of Sin, frowning up at him with twitching ears until Sin sighs and rolls over onto his back. Judal makes a happy little noise and clambers on top of Sin, staring down at him with an unreadable look in his eye. Sin is prepared for Judal to lean down, but he’s not prepared for the brush of soft lips against his own. When Sin makes a soft noise of surprise, Judal’s teeth scrape against the curve of Sin’s lower lip, noticeably gentler than how he usually bites, but still harsh.

Sin nearly loses himself in the scrape of Judal’s teeth and the soft of his tongue, in the slow rolling motion of his hips and the warmth between them. When Judal pulls back, his ears are twitching and his tail searches out Sin’s, curving around his as Judal’s lips flirt with a shy smile. And before Sin can say anything, Judal scurries away, but not before Sin can see the flush high on his cheeks. (Sinbad thinks he can get used to this.)

8. The Big Tease

Sinbad doesn’t get why Judal’s called him over in the dead of night until he steps inside and sniffs the air. Immediately, he’s simultaneously slamming the door shut and taking in greedy breaths, the scent of Judal’s pheromones high in the air. It’s clear now that Judal is in heat, his first one, that he’d called Sin over-

Sin hears a quiet noise from upstairs and he takes the steps two at a time, stopping short in the doorway when he sees Judal on his bed, pale skin flushed pink. He’s completely naked and clearly eager, ass high in the air with three fingers inside.

The eager movements of his fingers stop suddenly and Judal sniffs the air audibly, swivelling around (at any other time, Sin would laugh at his gracelessness) and staring at Sin with hunger clear in his eyes.

“Alpha,” he murmurs, “alpha, please. Sin-”

That’s all he’s able to get out before Sin crosses the room and blankets Judal’s quivering body with his own. When he manages to get Judal rolled over so they’re facing each other, Sin crashes their lips together, easily, effortlessly licking into Judal’s mouth and muffling his moans with his lips and teeth and tongue. His kisses start at Judal’s lips and slowly make their way down to his neck, where Sin forces himself to stay - he can smell Judal leaking and it’s making him impatient, needy, eager. To alleviate the quickly building pressure, Sin ruts into Judal, but it just makes his omega whine and wrap long legs around Sin’s waist to press closer.

It feels like ages before Sin is finally able to suck one dusky nipple into his mouth, and immediately, Judal arches further, a broken noise escaping his lips. Sin decides then that he’s teased enough, and he sits back enough to take his clothes off before turning Judal over and the only warning he gives Judal before pushing in is the way he grabs Judal’s hips and ruts the head of his cock against his puffy rim once, twice, thrice before easily sinking into tight tight heat.

9. The Cheek Kiss

There’s a boy playing in the sandbox all alone, and Sinbad finds his gaze drawn towards him from his place on the swings. He jumps off the swing and soars through the air for one long moment before crashing down to earth - he scrapes his knees but he doesn’t care all that much (scrapes mean bandaids, and bandaids mean getting to show off how high he jumped!) and when he’s sure the pretty boy isn’t looking, he scurries over and crouches in front of him.

“Why are you playing alone?”

The boy looks up at him and frowns before looking at Sin’s knees and widening his eyes. He points, doesn’t say a word and Sin looks down at his bloody knees as well. “It’s just a scrape, I’m fine. I flew.”

The boy gives Sin this look, incredulity tinged with disgust and almost...contempt - but Sin doesn’t care. The look suits him. “Do you talk?”

The boy shakes his head, then nods, then shrugs, leaving Sin to fill in the gaps.

“Just not today?”

A nod this time.

“That’s fine. I can talk for the both of us!”

That gets him the wisp of a smile and Sin settles down in the sand next to the boy, frowning. “Can you write your name in the sand?”

Pretty pink lips purse in a pout that’s cuter than it should be, and without thinking, Sin leans over and kisses the boy’s cheek. It’s soft, like peach fuzz, and Sin giggles. “My mom and dad do that a lot. You’re really cute, I like you.”

The boys cheeks are pink like his lips now and he shakes his head, clearly trying not to laugh. He opens his mouth then and mumbles a quiet, “My name’s Judal.”

Sin likes that. “I’m Sinbad, but everyone calls me Sin.”

Judal smiles.

10. The Jaw Kiss

They’re all drunk off their asses, celebrating their success in this week’s battle of the bands, and Sin’s arm is heavy around Judal’s shoulders. He’s got a bottle of something in one hand and he’s talking to Sharrkan in a voice far louder than need be. Judal grimaces when Sin turns around to look at him even as he laughs at something Sharrkan’s said. Or no, Sharrkan is currently straddling Masrur’s lap and...well.

Judal turns his gaze from them, trying and failing to ignore the way Sin is looking at him. His gaze is heavy with intent, and before Judal can move from his grip, Sin leans in and kisses him - or tries to. His lips end up brushing against Judal’s jaw, but it’d been an open mouthed kiss and Sin ends up slobbering all over Judal’s jaw.

It feels weird.

Judal pushes Sin away with ease and wipes at his jaw with Sin’s shirt sleeve, wrinkling his lip in disgust even as Sharrkan laughs at them. Sin’s still staring at him with a dopey look on his face, and Judal rolls his eyes, well aware of Sin’s crush on him.

(While it may hurt them both, it’s easier to pretend that he doesn’t have a crush of his own.)

11. The Air Kiss

Judal’s day starts like clockwork - he’ll sleep through all the alarms he’s set and jolt awake when he sees the time, and he’ll grab the first set of clothes he sees before grabbing his bag and rushing out the door. He’d tried one day to skip his daily coffee and it’d fucked him up so badly that he spent an hour one evening calculating the shortest route from his dorm to the coffeeshop to the building where his first class (calculus) is.

The same employee is at the register and by now, they’re familiar enough with each other for the man to blow him a kiss when Judal comes running through the door. He’ll have Judal’s coffee waiting and all Judal has to do is slap the money down before running out the door, barely a thank you falling from his lips.

And the pattern remains the same.

Until for once, Judal wakes up early - nearly two hours early. It’s nice to be able to take his time picking out his clothes and brushing his hair, walking to the coffeeshop and startling the lone man at the register.

“Hi, tall vanilla latte?”

The man spins around and there’s shock clear on his face, but he nods and gets to making the coffee right away. “You’re early,” he comments. There’s still a bit of shock in his voice, but it’s easily overshadowed by amusement, and Judal snorts.

“Don’t get used to it.”

“Your coffee.”

Judal pays and instead of going to sit, he stands by the register, waiting for his coffee to cool as his gaze locks with the other man’s.

“What’s your name?”

“Sin. You?”

“Judal.” It feels weird and oddly intimate like this, so Judal picks up his coffee and gives Sin an awkward half smile.

“I’m going to go to class, so. Bye, I guess.”

The next day, he wakes up early as well, so Judal heaves a sigh and heads to the coffeeshop again. This time, Sin waves and blows a kiss, and Judal is prepared. “Why do you do that?”

“You’re cute, and it’s funny.”

“I’m glad I amuse you.”

Judal takes his coffee and leaves as soon as he has it, too flustered by the look on Sin’s face to do anything else.

It takes a while, but after about a month of dancing around each other and half-conversations, Judal returns Sin’s air kiss with one of his own

(And a few weeks after that, Judal marches right up to the register and kisses Sin full on the mouth, and Sin easily returns it.)

12. Single Lip Kiss

Sin has been Judal’s figure skating partner for years now, which means he knows how to read Judal better than anyone. So when he doesn’t see the usual burning determination in Judal’s eyes, instead of prepping for their second toss, Sin catches Judal’s wrist with his and brings them to a gliding stop, swiveling around so he can face Judal and frowning at him.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Judal mumbles, but it’s painfully obvious that he’s lying.

“I know you’re lying.”

“It’s nothing!”

Sin rolls his eyes and watches Judal skate towards the entrance to the rink, irritation laced on his features. “Maybe next time I’ll drop you!”

“Fuck you!” Judal calls back. He doesn’t sound angry though, and Sin sighs before going to follow him.

He finds Judal sitting on one of the benches outside, fingers trembling as he struggles to unlace his skates. He looks so small suddenly, and Sin bites his lip before going over and brushing Judal’s hands away to undo the laces himself.

“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?”

Judal makes a noncommittal noise and Sin purses his lips as he finishes one skate and gently takes it off. Halfway through unlacing the second skate, Judal speaks again, voice quiet. “I’m distracted. We have the competition next week, but…I can’t focus.”

“Hey, hey. Whatever it is, tell me and we’ll fix it. Can’t have you zoning out next week.”

“I like you,” Judal’s voice breaks and Sin freezes. The skate is halfway off of Judal’s foot and Judal reaches down with trembling fingers to push it off completely before fumbling for his own shoes and wrenching them on.

“You like me?”

Judal makes an annoyed noise and when Sin finally looks up at him, he’s flustered and there are unshed tears shining in his eyes. “Yes, I like you. I like you and it’s so distracting being this close to you, and I can’t afford to fuck this up for the both of us just because I can’t get over a stupid crush-”

That’s when Sin leans up and in and kisses Judal, soft and eager. When he moves to pull away, Judal fists his hands in his hair, keeping him close. Judal’s lips are soft and they taste like the salt of his tears, and more spill when Sin wipes his cheeks dry.

“Come on, then. Are you leaving or staying?” Sin asks, standing now.

Judal frowns up at him, but it’s more of a pout than anything, and Sin can’t help laughing. “What was that then?”

“What was what?”

“You kissed me! Do you like me?”

“Yeah, I like you.”

“Oh. We can stay. Lace my skates!”

Sin sighs and reaches for Judal’s skates, tired of his partner’s tricks already. He realizes only then what a handful he’ll have - but if it’s Judal, it’ll be worth it. (Even if he doesn’t think he’ll ever like Judal the way Judal likes him.)

13. Lizard Kiss

The sight of the silver ball on the pink of Judal’s makes Sin’s knees go weak, and when he sees Sin staring, Judal sticks his tongue out, wiggling it playfully. “Like my piercing?”

“Get over here.”

Judal hides his laugh behind his fist before slipping from the counter and moving over to where Sin is sitting at the table. He easily slides into Sin’s lap and kisses him open-mouthed, gasping into Sin’s mouth as Sin easily finds the piercing and sucks at it, eager from the start. It’s not long before Sin tells Judal to stick your tongue out and when Judal does so, Sin sucks Judal’s tongue into his mouth and shallowly bobs his head, using his actions to show what he’d do later, what would make Judal moan and cry out and come with Sin’s name on his tongue.

At the first muffled cry Judal makes, Sin lets Judal’s tongue slip from his mouth, a smirk on his lips. It turns unsteady when Judal licks back into Sin’s mouth, piercing warmed from Sin’s ministrations, and when he catches the tip of Sin’s tongue once and then again, Sin gets what he’s trying to do - he lets the tip of Judal’s tongue trace circles around his own before sucking his tongue back into his mouth.

Judal is left breathless and trembling when Sin pulls away, and they both laugh sort of awkwardly when their gazes meet.

“I really like your piercing,” Sin says. It’s unnecessary, but it just makes Judal laugh even harder before he slips from Sin’s lap and saunters off towards the fridge.

14. The Eskimo Kiss

They’re studying together in the library - or Judal is trying to study, and Sin is distracting him with kisses pressed to Judal’s neck and shoulder when he thinks no one can see. Hakuryuu is across from them, and he keeps glaring at Judal whenever Sin does it - like Judal can control Sin! - and Judal is trying to ignore the both of them.

“If you’re going to keep doing that,” Hakuryuu mutters, “at least do it quietly. Jeez.”

“Can’t,” Sin mumbles back, “not until Juju does what he’s promised.”

When Judal chances a glance up at Hakuryuu, he’s not sure if the disgust on Hakuyruu’s face is from the petname or because of the way Sin is nuzzling into Judal’s neck and peppering his skin with kisses.

“Jesus, Judal - just do what he wants! It’s getting ridiculous, honestly…”

“I think you’re just jealous.” Judal contemplates tilting his neck further to let Sin kiss him even more, but at the strangled noise Hakuryuu makes, Judal huffs and pushes Sin away before facing him. He wants to ask Hakuryuu to at least look away, but that’ll make it worse, so Judal just takes a breath and leans in to rub his nose against Sin’s, squashing down a pleased smile at the pleased noise Sin makes.

“You’re disgusting.” Hakuryuu sounds two parts squicked out and one part happy, and when Judal looks at him, he’s smiling.

“It’s almost cute. I’m glad you two are happy, really. But maybe tone down on the making out, yeah?”

Judal opens his mouth to agree with Hakuryuu, but before he can say anything, Sin answers for him as he curls an arm around Judal’s waist. “Nope!”

15. Kiss of an Angel

For all the many years that Judal has been dead, he hasn’t felt anything for any of the people that have moved into his house, not anything more than passing amusement. He’s always pulled his pranks (what sort of ghost would he be if he didn’t?) but he’s never really cared about any of the living.

Until Sinbad.

Sin’s been living at the house for over a year now, much longer than anyone else, and Judal is...rather fond of him now. Sin barely flinches at all of Judal’s pranks now, just chuckles and rolls his eyes and continues with what he’s doing.

Sin is taking a nap on the couch now, lips parted to take in quiet breaths. Judal contemplates maybe knocking some books off the shelf, but Sin will only sigh and put the books back, if he even wakes up. So Judal resorts to sitting on Sin’s chest - not that Sin will feel him anyway - and staring at his sleeping face. Sin is actually pretty handsome, Judal’s noticed, but despite his overwhelmingly good looks and personality, he’s never had a girl or guy over.

Judal leans in closer, staring hard at Sin as if that will somehow wake him up. He wants to kiss Sin in that moment, but to do that would mean making himself be seen, and felt. And that can’t happen.

Judal pushes his heavy braid back and leans in further, letting his lips just barely touch the space between Sin’s eyebrows. Almost as soon as he does, Sin’s eyes flutter open and Judal falls back and off the couch, heart pounding in his chest as Sin sits up and looks around. His eyes land on Judal and he frowns, and Judal waits for Sin to look away, but he doesn’t.

“Who are you?” he asks.

And oh, Judal thinks. Oh.

16. Seductive Kiss

“You two probably aren’t even dating,” Sharrkan’s frowning, “you probably just said it to get couple discounts or something.”

Sin gasps, as if outraged. “We’re totally dating!” As if to prove it, he throws his arm around Judal’s shoulders and pats the side of his head.

Judal snorts and ducks free of Sin’s heavy grip, but he nods in agreement. “Totally dating.”

“Prove it.”

“How-”

“Kiss!”

“Voyeur,” Judal huffs, ducking his head into the curve of Sin’s armpit to hide his flush. Sin’s shirt smells like laundry detergent, and Judal takes in a deep breath, both to calm himself and because it smells good.

Sharrkan makes an offended noise and Sin laughs loud - they both seem to forget that they’re in the middle of a crowded ice cream shop, and Judal stabs a spoon into his shared dessert with Sin. “Fine, we’ll kiss. You’re still nasty though, Sharr.”

Before he can lose his nerve, Judal turns back to Sin and cups his cheeks in his hands to bring Sin down to his height. They’ve never kissed before, so the way Sin so easily licks into Judal’s mouth makes him gasp, and a strangled little noise falls from Sin’s lips when Judal’s teeth scrape against his lower lip. Sin’s the one that pulls away and they’re both breathless, and Judal shoves his hands below the table so Sharrkan doesn’t see their trembling.

“I never want to see you do that again.”

“Good, because it won’t happen again.” (At least, Judal thinks, not where Sharrkan can see.)