#warnings: mentions of food

[kflixnet]

New to KFLIXNET: Check out our member Peachy's drabble!

Cookie Chaos

December 8th

Part of the 31 Days of Fics Event

Genre: Fluff, Light 18+

Summary: Baking cookies with Sunwoo turns into a playful mess of flour and frosting, but when he pulls you close and kisses you, the kitchen becomes much hotter.

Word Count: 464

@k-labels @deoboyznet @kflixnet

"You're wasting so much flour!" you exclaimed, half-laughing and half-crying as Sunwoo flung another handful of it in your direction.

He was already doubling over in laughter, his hoodie dusted white. "Wasting? It's called creative baking."

"Oh really? And what part of dumping flour everywhere counts as creative?"

"It adds texture!" he shot back with a wink before lunging at you again, this time smearing frosting along your jawline.

You gasped, grabbing his wrist to stop him, but the grin on his face was impossible to resist. "Sunwoo, I swear, if you keep this up-"

"What?" he interrupted, cocking a brow and stepping closer. "What are you gonna do about it?"

Your breath caught as the teasing glint in his eyes darkened into something else entirely. He had you pinned now, his chest barely an inch from yours as your back pressed against the counter.

"I'm warning you," you said, though your voice came out weaker than intended.

"Go on, warn me," he murmured, his free hand sliding up to brush a streak of flour from your cheek. His touch lingered, his thumb grazing your skin in a way that made your heart stutter.

"Sunwoo.." you started, but your words dissolved into silence as he leaned in. His lips hovered over yours, so close you could feel his breath.

"You've got something here," he whispered, his thumb tracing the corner of your mouth before brushing over your bottom lip.

The playful tension snapped, replaced by something far hotter as his lips finally captured yours. The kiss was nothing like the teasing you were used to-it was heated, his hand slipping to your waist to pull you flush against him. His lips were soft yet insistent, his body pressing you into the counter as your fingers curled into the front of his hoodie.

The sugary mess around you only heightened the moment, the sweetness of frosting on his tongue as the kiss deepened. His hand slid up your side, his fingers brushing just beneath the hem of your shirt, sending a shiver through you.

"Sunwoo," you gasped as he pulled back, his lips swollen and his eyes filled with mischief.

"You're the one who started this war," he said, his voice lower now, his thumb brushing the edge of your jaw. "What? Can't handle the heat?"

"Is this about baking or... something else?" you asked, breathless.

He smirked, leaning down to press a trail of kisses along your jawline. "Why not both?"

You couldn't help but laugh, even as your cheeks burned and your knees threatened to give out. "We're never gonna finish these cookies at this rate."

"Who needs cookies?" he muttered, his lips finding yours again in a kiss that made the entire kitchen feel like it was on fire.

[bobbabubblez]

I would literally trade in every gift I’m getting this year for my GW

[lill7389]

Body goal ->

[itsalrightsblog]

It’s literally disgusting how many old freak pedos slither their way into the ED community. Those types of people are literally as low as it can get.

Reblog if you do not welcome pedos anywhere near your page‼️

[kflixnet]

Check out our member Val's text chats!!

✿ ✿ 〞 she’s busy bro

✰ pairings: bf!skz x fem!reader

✰ genre: fluff, comedy

✰ warnings: cursing, mentions of food

CHAN & MINHO:

CHANGBIN & HYUNJIN:

HAN & FELIX:

SEUNGMIN & JEONGIN:

[coffinhelena]

ok guys i have an emergency

im going to the bahamas with all my friends and some SUPER hot guys in mid march for a spring break trip thing. i need to lose at least 20 pounds because i will be wearing a swimsuit.

this is less than 2 months away i need all the advice i can get guys pls☹️

edit: if i lose 20 before the trip im rewarding myself with a cute new swimsuit🫣🫣

[kflixnet]

New to KFLIXNET: check out our member June's oneshot!

too hot to handle

member — junhui x gn!reader genre — sfw, fluff, comfort word count — 1k synopsis — dinner in bed is nice, but sometimes things get a little spicy. warnings — mentions of food and eating, reader doesn't eat/like spicy food (the title is a joke this is not smut it's not even a teeny bit suggestive. just pure fluff !!) notes — requested by @onlymingyus — so actually i am a big fat liar nsjdghf i randomly felt motivated to write jun fluff today bc i miss him so here's a little drabble from my inbox :-) my requests are still closed and i'm still on hiatus-ish, but i hope you enjoy!

the sound of loud slurping noises pulls your attention away from the tv as you lay in bed, tangled up in jun’s side with a bowl of ramen on your lap.

“you're doing that on purpose, aren't you?”

“doing what?” he mumbles through a mouthful of food as he looks up from his bowl, half a noodle still hanging between his lips before he swallows it up.

you stare at him for a moment. the look on his face is so cute that you can't tell if his ignorance is feigned or not, but does it really matter? you're going to let him get away with it either way. “nevermind,” you answer after a minute, and he shrugs and happily goes back to finishing up his dinner.

you stretch your back and relax into the pillows, and automatically jun lifts his arm so you can settle into his side. he always adjusts so you have a comfortable place to lean on, even if it hinders his ability to eat. your elbow rests on his hip as you lay against him, propping yourself up to balance your own bowl.

the tv plays quietly, a new drama that the two of you have been watching together the past few weeks. but it's just background noise; it might as well have been muted, because you'd stopped listening to it a while ago. it's the first night in too long that you've been able to spend time with jun uninterrupted, and you'd much rather focus on him. with both of your busy and exhausting lives, lazy evenings and dinner in bed have become few and far between lately, so you savor every moment you can get with him.

he slurps his ramen again, and now you're sure he was doing it on purpose because this time he does it much quieter than before. you can't help the smile that makes its way onto your face as you bring a spoonful to your own mouth, shaking your head in enamored fondness.

you lean your head back against his shoulder to look up at him. you don't know how he does it. how he manages to make you fold when he's not even trying.

he flashes you a grin when he sees you staring and he slurps from his spoon, this time making it clear he wants you to know he's doing it intentionally. you laugh softly move your head down towards the screen again, but he hums out a little noise and you pause to glance back up at him.

“wait a second,” he says after swallowing the broth in his mouth. he puts down his spoon and uses his free hand to tilt your chin up towards him, two gentle fingers guiding your cheek.

you follow his eyes as he stares down at your lips, and for a second you think he's going to kiss you. but instead he brushes his thumb across your lip, wiping away a stray piece of carrot from the corner of your mouth, and you feel your cheeks flush with heat.

“is that all?” you say, and he lets out a little hum in disagreement as he stares at you. you lick your lips reflexively under his gaze, your eyes never leaving his. the dim light from the tv makes him look even prettier, you think, studying the fuzzy outline of his features in the darkness.

“mmm… no, i think i missed a spot, actually.”

this time he leans down to kiss you and you crane your neck up to meet his lips, breaking into a smile as you feel him press against your mouth. your eyes flutter shut at the familiar movement of his lips moving with yours, so natural and warm and tender like it's the easiest thing in the world.

he pulls away after a second and sighs, settling back against the headboard of the bed and adjusting you in his arms. distantly you hear the drama's theme song playing in the background as the credits of the episode flash across the screen, but you don't care about following the story anymore.

at this moment you're more concerned with the biting warmth spreading across your lips, so you wipe the back of your hand against your mouth, and he lets out a little whine. “hey, why’d you do that?” he pouts. “don't wipe off my kisses. you're making me sad.”

“because you're burning my mouth! your ramen's too spicy for me,” you tease as you pout back at him, reaching across him to set your own half-empty bowl on the nightstand.

he grabs your wrist before you pull back and brings your hand up to his mouth. without having to ask you sigh, knowing what he wants, and you swipe your thumb over his lips even though there's nothing there.

“there. all gone, no more spice,” he hums with a smile and he gently releases your hand. you let your arm fall onto his lap, resting across his body and curling around his waist to pull him closer to you. “now come here and let me kiss you again, i have to replace the one you wiped off.”

you groan and pretend to roll your eyes, but you don't hesitate when he leans back in to capture your lips again. the heat is easy to put up with; you don't mind his spicy kisses, if it means you get to have moments in bed together like this.

“i'm gonna make you brush your teeth before you kiss me next time,” you grumble, but it's not hard to tell that your threats are empty.

jun just giggles and presses his lips against you once more, this time on your cheek by the corner of your mouth, because it's clear you're not serious nor upset. the days of being grossed out by each other have long since passed, and you'll gladly take a sloppy kiss from him any day. “love you, too.”

i hope you enjoyed this!! if you did, consider reblogging or leaving a comment or an ask :) it shows me this is something people want to see more of, and knowing people like this makes me want to write more of it! thanks for reading!!

if you want to be notified when i post a new fic, you can join my taglist here!

taglist — located in replies

[choucon]

Looks like I'll really never get out of it.

The number on the scale is too scary for me to choose health instead of making it smaller.

[souledeater]

140 kcal meal!! had this with some iced coffee <33

[kflixnet]

Check out our member Jiah's headcanons!

💌 ──BOYFRIEND！

엔하이픈 제이크 ୨୧ female reader 0.3k non-idol au fluff established relationship + cw. not proof-read skinship pet-names kissing mention of food ｜ more a/n. finally revamped it ! ><

as a boyfriend, jake would be so affectionate.

whenever you walk on the streets, without you even noticing; he'd gently take your wrist and guide you to the side where the road isn't, always making sure to be the one next to it.

gives you the last bite of his food when you eat together— whether it's at the restaurant or at home together, finds himself doing so even if you eat the same thing.

absentmindedly plays with your hair as you talk.

twirls a strand around his fingers, over and over, with his head in his free hand and mind too focused on your words to notice what he is doing.

leans into you when he laughs too hard; hides his face in your shoulder, wrap his arms around your waist, falls on your laps when you are sat.

loves when you wear dresses or skirts, because he can take your hand and make you twirl— ended up doing it each time you get dressed up, as simple as your outfit can be.

every cuddle session fades into a tickle match.

constantly ends up falling asleep on your shoulder each time you are in a transport together: a car, the train, the bus.

adores to kiss the tip of your nose.

want to let his hair grow out ever since you tuck one his hair behind his ear for the first time— you giggled when he blushed, and he wants to hear it again.

calls you whenever he misses you just so he can ear your voice.

puts ‘my’ in front of your name when calling you— often in front of the word ‘love’ but loves to do it with your name as-well.

“beautiful, crushingly so; you look like the rest of my life.”

nets @k-films @kflixnet @/k-labels taglist open! @manooffline @ibsysbsfsunsbs @oldjws @lilriswife4life @alaezasmystery235 @teddywonss @tyussday @cholexc @flickqr @yuviqik @wvnrqs @strawberrywonz @y-ves @isawritesss @filmofhybe @ikeucakes @gweoriz @yunabi436 @ashtxrie @soul-is-a-strange-kid @jaelaxies @jwonsluvr @lynniebearrr-blog @bobabunhee @sunghoonsarmpit @ynsvnte @wonifullove @luvieden @shalkeren @thesunoosshining @smouches

[starrynightz-vvg]

She is me, i am her.

[just-jes]

Just under 400 cals today 🪽🌷

[kflixnet]

New to KFLIXNET: Check out our member Vi's headcanons!

blow out the candles.

엔하이픈 형선 ・ female reader + word count 400 genre fluff established relationship warnings not proof-read kissing skinship mention of food — more

a/n. because it’s hanni and myself’s birthday!! ^^

heeseung

would probably prepare a whole four minute video message for your birthday; would use cute little effects for decorative purposes— definitely has some fading heart transition in the middle of the video; would surprise you with it, convincing you that it’s some hit movie that recently came out.

would definitely pepper your face with sweet, little celebratory kisses the minute you wake up; says “happy birthday, baby!” about forty times throughout the day, each one paired with a megawatt smile.

jongseong

would put his kitchen skills to the test by baking you a birthday cake; deliberately comes home earlier than usual to prepare all the ingredients and equipments for his little baking fiasco; will use your favourite colours for the icing; would attempt to draw a small, wobbly drawing of you both, adding a little touch of sprinkles around the portrait.

would engulf you in so, so many hugs— back hugs, bear hugs, anything, you name it; he holds you like you’re the most precious thing to have ever grace his life— because to him, you are.

jaeyun

would probably write you an extremely long birthday card; instead of decorating it conventionally, he’d likely add his own personal touch to the card; would paste stickers that, oddly, remind him of you; presents it to you with the prettiest smile ever, eyes curving into little crescents.

would make it known that it’s your birthday, even in public spaces; gives you the ultimate taste of princess treatment, because even though you’re always special to him, your birthday calls for you to be extra, extra special.

sunghoon

would surprise you with a handmade gift, and a pretty bouquet of flowers— he would have asked for your favourite kind days ago, trying to lessen the suspicion that followed the random question; loves to see that twinkle in your eyes when you realise his cute little scheme.

would give you the same amount of kisses as the age you’re turning— on your lips, on your cheeks, on your forehead; kisses you an additional time because why not; ends the day with a soft “i hope to celebrate many more with you like this, love”.

taglist open! @halcyoni-ki @wondipity @yjjungwon @shysakuno @niktwazny303 @vnsux @minhosify @haechansbbg @yeomha @stepout-09-15 @chansburgah @sona-verse01 @lilly-bubblelops @smouches @mrchweeee @luvistqrzzz @j1nniee networks! @kflixnet @enhanet @k-labels

[magnusbae]

Hi! What about "Can you stay with me?" (and if you'd like it my bonus prompt is "drunk") 💗

The initial draft was written while I was quite literally fainting late at night & the second one fully rewritten while I am dazed and out of it. I would say that I was method writing Obi-Wan who is indeed very much drunk in this one, dearest anon. Thank you for the prompt~ 😊💖

+++

Obikin || 4,004w || Drunk Obi-Wan is agonized by the prospect of his freshly knighted Padawan leaving him behind— and more. 😌 Some flavors of gentle lime in this drink, very light, very sweet. 🍋💖

���▾▾

"Can you stay with me?"

Obi-Wan Kenobi sounds properly pathetic and he knows it. Grasping at Anakin’s Tabards as he is, mind swirling in hazy circles around the notion he was doing his very best to avoid thinking about for the past few months. It is not long now that Anakin would look at his Master and see him for what he really was. Perhaps even today. Inebriated as he is, he makes for a good serving of disillusionment. All Anakin needs to do is look, and see, and then…

It seems inevitable—his Padawan will leave.

Former Padawan. Anakin is no longer his Padawan, and that is the heart of it, isn’t it? The severed braid was the firs step. Them having each a battalion of their own, stationed light years away from each other with only the occasional joint mission, a second. The third and final step would be for Anakin to finally open his eyes and look, and see.

It won’t be hard to unveil the carefully crafted Jedi Master facade Obi-Wan had cultivated for the past decade. No, it won’t be hard at all. If Anakin were to stop glorifying him, stop shaping him to be what ever form of idol he had needed for while growing up, if only he were to take an unbiased look at him…

There will no longer be, Kenobi and Skywalker.

For the naked truth was, Anakin had outgrown him, had become more powerful and capable than his Master. There’s little left that Obi-Wan could still offer, still teach. He should be proud. The only one still refusing to see it, is Anakin himself. Once that revelation comes to pass however, it will be complete. A true break, as befitting the Jedi way. Obi-Wan finds no peace in the thought, no completion nor satisfaction in the successful completion of his Padawan’s training—a symbol of his own Mastery.

Not when it means losing him. Not then.

Given his state of drunkenness, words slurred and feet unsteady, he thinks that it’s worth putting to question whatever or not he was a good Jedi at all, least of all a Master. Try as he might, he finds it hard to ponder further. His choice to look inward is as always an avoidance, an escape. An easy detour from looking outward, from looking at Anakin. Anakin who’s eyes he can feel like a physical touch, boring into his very soul.

Obi-Wan’s avoidance is nearly as strong as Anakin’s natural magnetism. One is counseling him to avoid looking, save himself the pain of witnessing the exact moment in which the realization dawns upon the boy. The second, stronger still, demands his undivided attention on him, demands him to look. Demands him. 

Obi-Wan looks up, he meets those eyes, his demise.

Anakin’s eyes widen and he blinks, endless blue clearing as if coming out of some sort of shock.

“Can I—” Anakin splutters “—Obi-Wan, even if the council explicitly ordered me to go save the entire karkin universe just now, I wouldn’t be leaving your side— stars you’ve any idea what you look like right now?

Obi-Wan’s tongue is heavy but he parts his lips to answer, something clever to be sure, he always finds something to say.

“No, never mind.” Anakin cuts in before he could speak. There’s such decisiveness in his tone, such confidence. His former Padawan stands tall, his arms are strong and sure as he handles Obi-Wan closer, making him lean more of his weight against his chest. It’s broad and firm. Obi-Wan should not be noticing those things, should not be aware of those things. It is a further evidence that his Padawan is well and truly grown. Further evidence of his own failing as a Jedi, as a Master, as a…man. Obi-Wan should not be inhaling and smelling home. Should not be leaning closer, itching all over for more, more.

“You’re so wasted that I am surprised you’ve even recognized me at all.” Anakin continues talking, as if the universe is not shifting beneath Obi-Wan’s feet as it is him who finally looks with his gaze unbiased. “The drunken messages though, those you will be seeing tomorrow” there’s dark mirth in that dear voice. “I bet you wanted to send them to— someone else.” Anakin glances at him, eyes narrowed.

Obi-Wan’s offenses at Anakin’s assumption he could ever not recognize him dies over under his gaze, dark and rich, his eyes are captivating. Before Anakin, he did not know that a blue can hold such multitudes. Both the clear morning sky, and the moon lit sky. Beautiful. They loosens his tongue as well as any truth serum would. That or the bottle he had finished on his own finally soaked through.

“I will always—”  His voice comes out so thick that he coughs, starting Anakin from his dark contemplations, whichever those might be. His eyebrows furrow and he quickly snatches a cup of something clear off of a passing robo-waitress’s tray. Irritated with the distraction, Obi-Wan accepts it and drinks if only to make way for the words to follow. He will not let it go. Not now that he’d started. “I will always recognize you, Padawan Mine, drugged, beaten, or otherwise preoccupied— I will always—” “Drugged?!” Anakin cuts in again, arms tightening around Obi-Wan and strangling the annoyed huff at being cut again “You did not mention anything about being drugged, what the kark’ Obi-Wan?!”

Obi-Wan’s mouth is dry, similar to how being drugged would feel. His mind swims and all he sees is Anakin. There’s warmth in his chest, there’s a burn in his gut, there’s a tug in his— 

“It’s hard to tell” he says sheepishly, embarrassed, eyes straying away from Anakin’s strong jaw and up, up to the lights on the ceiling. He should not be thinking of how Anakin’s proximity is enough to replicate a strong drug. How out of orbit he feels around him as of late. “They all start the same, so…” 

Anakin is hardly listening. Instead he is surveying the club with a look of fury that is bordering on homicidal, freeing one hand to rest it on his lightsaber. There’s the distinct feeling of Anakin stretching his force signature out, covering the room, no doubt attempting to locate anyone within their proximity who might have dared drug his former Master. Oh if only he knew that he was the culprit all along. 

Obi-Wan snorts, finding an odd sense of humor in it.

Anakin’s gaze darts back to him, sharp and accusing. He looks so handsome under the colorful, dim lights. He looks so… 

“Ah-nakin.” Obi-Wan sighs out and shuts his eyes lest his spinning head forces him to sober up in the most un-jedi manner.  

“Stay with me,” the request comes so easy, what was it that he was so afraid of? It’s so easy, too easy. Frighteningly so, to reach and touch Anakin’s forearm. There’s skin beneath his touch, warm and human, tense muscles beneath. “Ah” Obi-Wan sighs out in realization. Anakin had rolled the sleeves, so very unofficial for a Jedi and yet so very Anakin of him.

Master Windu would have hated it. It wouldn’t surprise Obi-Wan if this was exact reason why Anakin did it to begin with, after all, he was most adept to handling heat and was not bothered by it even while all else were. Obi-Wan really should have reprimanded the boy more often, should have stopped Anakin from executing all those harmless little vendettas of his while growing up.

If only he did not find them to be so endearing, so amusing. If only he was a better Master, a proper Master. He would have. 

His brain is foggy and he had already forgotten what was it it that he had hoped to achieve by touching Anakin, only that his fingers are circling his wrist and touching the spot at which he can feel his life pulsing. What a terrible habit it is, being intoxicated while negotiating. You should only ever drink enough to appear drunk, never more. How is he to get what he wants, when he has no ideas what it was? 

Obi-Wan’s eyelids are heavy when he tries to blink them open and focus on Anakin. There’s the signature frown, so familiar Obi-Wan can’t help but smile. Anakin is chewing his lips, a compulsion he had never managed to rid himself of. He looks torn between the need to locate and deal with the ‘enemy’, and…. Obi-Wan. 

The way Anakin looks, that should not be reminiscent of the targets Obi-Wan opts for charm as the main form of negotiation with. Should not stir the excitement of a hunt, of a game to be won. Obi-Wan should not use his looks to achieve his goals, he should not use them to get what he wants, he should be a better man than that.

Obi-wan is not a better man. 

Licking his own dry lips, he let’s go off of Anakin’s wrist and reaches for Anakin’s cheeks. There’s a tremble in the touch, his, Anakin’s? He is not certain. 

“Dear One, you can chase your enemies tomorrow.” He speaks in a hushed murmur, he hopes he sounds soft and alluring “Tonight, will you guard this drunk Master of yours?” he looks up, through his lashes, breathing shallowly, feeling hot, hot, hot all over. 

Anakin let’s go off of the lightsaber. It’s an answer enough to what he had picked. It still is deeply gratifying to feel the boy’s hand cover his own, guide it until he wraps his arm around Anakin’s shoulders. It’s an awkward angle, with Anakin being taller than he— he cares very little for it when Anakin wraps an arm around his waist. 

“Let’s go.” He is tight lipped and determined, guiding Obi-Wan out and into a speeder that is parked not far off. If Obi-Wan was even slightly more aware, he’d realize just how much attention the pair of them had draw, how all of the eyes had followed them out. Sometimes he forgets, how famous they had become during this accursed war. Sometimes, he is glad to not remember. 

Anakin is terribly efficient at getting them to the Temple. One blink of an eye they’re flying through the busy highways of Coruscant, the next he is tossed unceremoniously onto a bed that feels and smells familiar. His bed.

They’re in his quarters. Their quarters until very recently. He is breathing harder and he does not dare to think of why. If he does not think, it does not exist. He is self aware enough only to feel how disheveled his robes feel on his body, how messy his hair is, how hot his skin feels all over. He is a mess. 

“Dear one?” he questions. He refuses to acknowledge how his own tone drops, refuses to admit he is rolling his vowels in a way he knows thickens his accent in the most attractive of ways. He doesn’t know why he is flirting with Anakin Skywalker when the boy is barely out of his knighthood and is Anakin. His Anakin, his Anakin on whom he just looked in a way he really should not be looking at, through his eyelashes, with a heavy, wanting gaze. 

The redness of Anakin’s cheeks is evidence enough that he hears and understands the situation well enough. That he is very much aware of what his Master is doing. That he is… perhaps affected. 

Obi-Wan swallows, trying to push himself up to his elbows. He needs to sober up, he must tell him that he is merely jesting, that it is all a little tease, a little laugh, nothing more, just….

Anakin cuts him to it. Before he can excuse, or joke, or explain.

“Not while you’re drunk.” Anakin bites, sounding frustrated, lips swollen red from biting. Obi-Wan startles, surprised. 

What did Anakin just say? Imply?

Blatantly threw straight into his face, more like. 

Yes, but not while he is drunk.

Absurdly, a swell of pride fills his chest to the brim. Anakin’s manners and chivalry surprises him, pleases him. He had raised him well after all, he did not fail him, at least not in this.

His pleasure must bleed into the Force as Anakin regards him with a dark, baffled look. It’s so dark, most would find it intimidating, but for Obi-Wan it’s… dear. He can see the gentleness in that look, the care. There’s warmth in the force when Anakin insist on tucking him in, fingers methodical in the short, careful gestures. Tucking him in as if he was a child. Him, his Master. Former. 

Obi-Wan was tucked in only once in his lifetime, at least as far as he can remember. His first night in the Jedi Temple. So tense he was, so out of his depth, that the he was taken pity of, tucked in with a quiet promise of everything making sense soon. It helped.

It had never happen again. 

“Ahnakin.” he tries to protest, tries to pull a face of offended indigence. It’s hard to do when he is practically shining within the force. A single look from his apprentice is enough to quiet him down. 

“Master.” Anakin replies, and there’s a little eyeroll there. His cheeks are still flushed but he seems as determined as Obi-Wan to not address the Bantha in the room. “You really should be more careful” he lectures him in a way Obi-Wan can distinctly remember doing a few years back, when Anakin had gotten drunk for the first time. 

He leaves then, without a word. Obi-Wan’s throat closes and there’s a pang of pain in his heart. No this. He remembers now. Him. Leaving. That was the whole reason, that was why—

“Master?” Anakin sounds concerned, a glass of water and a container of what looks to be painkillers in his hands. “Are you sick?” a few strides and he is by Obi-Wan’s bed again, placing he glass and container at the bedside table. He looks well and truly worried. 

Unthinking, Obi-Wan sits up. So sudden that he does feel sick from the motion. He ignores it. He reaches for Anakin’s face with both hands, cupping his cheeks with a grip that is too strong, too desperate. A Jedi should not hold onto things with such fervor. 

All it takes for him to lean is to Anakin, is to stop resisting if only for a moment. Anakin’s pull was always there, stronger and stronger until it had become a daily challenge to ignore it, to pretend he does not feel it. All it takes is to stop resisting and his lips find Anakin’s, pressing against that plush softness, inhaling his exhale and finally, finally feeling anchored, inside the orbit he was always meant to circle.

He tilts his chin, leans in, knowing his beard will scratch pleasantly against the smooth jaw, kisses in deeper—

“Mahster—!” Anakin gasps into the kiss, a pang of shock and uncertainty clouding the force around them, sipping through the open nerves of their broken bond.  He does not want to take advantage of his Master, does not want him to end up hating him, does not want him to wake up and be disgusted, appalled— but he wants, he wants so badly. 

“Oh, Anakin.” Obi-Wan breathes out, unsure if it’s endearment of relief that fills him up with warmth, with lightness. One thing he is certain of, no one had ever been, or will be, as sweet, as kind, as dear as Anakin is to him. “I could never hate him.” There’s a drunken lisp to his voice, he needs a moment to correct himself. “You.” He manages, meeting Anakin’s eyes and not blinking, not wanting to miss a single moment. Wanting to see the exact moment in which Anakin realizes he is serious, that he is the most honest he’s been in years. 

Anakin seems to be realizing it too, his eyes widening and cheeks coloring a deeper red than before, he bites his lip.

“I might be…” Obi-Wan’s gaze drops to Anakin’s lips and he thinks about… “intoxicated…” he forces himself to look up, away from temptation, away from sin. “Drugged, possibly.” He is still not fully certain if he is, or it truly is just Anakin with a touch of alcohol. “But I am very much aware that…” he smiles before completing the sentence, it widens so much further with the words to come “…my Padawan simply cannot take advantage of his Master…” there’s really no need to be using this many terms of belonging, especially when they are outdated and irrelevant, but he just cannot… “On the contrary, I am the one who should be deeply ashamed for…mnnn-” 

Anakin’s lips quiet him up, he was never a patient listener, never could hear his Master finish a thought. This is the most effective he had ever been at cutting Obi-Wan’s line of thought, by far. He kisses him in a way Obi-Wan would have never guessed him capable of— it’s soft, sweet, patient. A tender thing, careful, loving. Obi-Wan gasps. Thinking, dazedly of how Anakin will grow to be an amazing lover, so attentive, a beast holding back his fangs in favor of gentle lips… 

The thought sets a burning coil of arousal deep in Obi-Wan’s gut.

Not good. Beyond not good. He should…. 

The thought is present and yet he licks at Anakin’s lips, asking for permission. He is granted one without resistance, without hesitance. Anakin’s lips part and he can taste him and oh, oh. Obi-Wan groans, muscles tensing as he shifts to sit straighter, moving a hand to Anakin’s nape and pulling him closer.

He nearly chokes when the boy sucks on his tongue, arousal shocking him into near soberness. 

“Anakin…” he knows, there’s not enough alcohol in the universe to convince him that this is not going too far, he knows and yet… 

He kisses Anakin again, a little hungrier, a little more wanting.

He must stop this madness. To think that he had started it, to think that he had taken advantage of his trusting, sweet—

“No, Master.” Anakin answers, and Obi-Wan wonders just how much of his shields is truly left if his thoughts can be read so easily, so plainly. “You’ve asked me to stay, and I will stay.” That assuredness is back, firm and leaving no space for argument. This is the same man who leads men on a battlefield, who commands, who leads. Obi-Wan finds it impossibly, undeniably, devastatingly attractive.

“You will sleep.” Anakin decides then, tearing his eyes away from Obi-Wan long enough to gesture at the lights, turning them off with the force. “And I will stay with you.” His eyes land back to Obi-Wan, dark mirth dancing in what Obi-Wan can still see of him. “To keep you safe, Master.” He is teasing him, the little devil.

“How will it even…” Obi-Wan doesn’t want to mention how narrow the bed really is, Anakin would know, with his constant complaints about how leg room and… 

“Don’t worry about that.” Anakin answers, confidence so cocky, so boyish that Obi-Wan huffs a surprised laughter, breaking into giggling when Anakin practically falls on top of him. They struggle like that, laughter mixing, limbs tangling, hair in a mouth and fingers against sides— Anakin captures him then, they’re on their sides, Anakin’s back is firm as he pulls Obi-Wan all the way to himself, forming….

“Absolutely not!” Obi-Wan’s voice raises and breaks a little, attempting to wriggle out of the trap he inadvertently fell into. There’s still some pride life in him. He will not permit this Jedi Knight, his former Padawan no less, big spoon him, 16 years his senior and former Master. Force be his witness, he will not allow it.

Anakin makes a suffering, exasperated exhale when Obi-Wan manages to slip out of his grip— only to be yanked back by the force. All he manages is a choked gasp of protest before the air is knocked out of him, his back hitting a firm chest a little too hard. There’s a vindictive sort of satisfaction in hearing Anakin chokes out a surprised exhale too, clearly, he did not account for the impact being this strong.

“Karkin’ hell…” he hears the boy muttering and snorts out, laughing even while Anakin wraps his mechno-arm around him, pulling him back into the not-as-offensive as before little spoon position. Fine, he thinks. He’ll allow it, just for this one night…. 

His eyes close and he shudders when Anakin’s nose press against his nape, he can feel the slow, deep inhale— can feel the content exhale that follows. 

“Finally.” Anakin breathes out, as if he was waiting for this moment longer than the few minutes  just now. Like he needed it, himself. Like it was not Obi-Wan, pathetic and alone, messaging his former Padawan while drunk beyond reason that led him here, but his own needs, own wants. Like he needed this too, him. Like he needs him. Obi-Wan. 

“Oh Force…” Obi-Wan calls upon it without realizing, without meaning it. Only the force can stand witness to this moment, judge it, measure it. Guide him, tell him right from wrong. “Force.” His voice trembles with it, realizing for the first time that Anakin does see him, in truth, does and still…

“It’s fine with it.” Anakin remarks, nonchalant, amusement coloring the timbre of his voice. “You don’t have to shout at her, I don’t think she like it very much” Anakin refers to the Force differently every time, Obi-Wan suspects he does it simply for the joy of throwing off the younglings.

It unsettles Obi-Wan as well, he will not admit that much, though. Anakin’s connection with the force was always stronger, always different than anyone else’s. If he’s saying that the Force is not finding this offensive…. Obi-Wan will trust him. Anakin enjoys messing around at times, stretching the truth about how the Force works, but he’d never lie about this, not to him. 

Obi-Wan’s body relaxes so completely that he practically sags into Anakin, relief, so much relief. It feels…. Good. There’s rightness to it that even without the Force humming pleasantly in his ears, he’d recognize. Like sharing a sleeping cot in the war zones, minus the blood and gore and pain… it feels secure, it feels…good…. 

He feels himself being lulled to what he suspects will be a long and restful sleep. Such a luxury as of late. “Mnh..” He jolts a little when a hand moves across his side, resting at his hip bone and then back up to his side. He should not permit Anakin this much leeway with him and yet…. He likes it… oh he likes it.

So he doesn’t comment it, allowing him to continue, to stroke him and care for him, and hold him. He is not leaving. 

Sleep comes ease, as easy as an inhale. One moment he is aware of all that surrounds him, the scent and warmth, the weight and touch. The next he is sinking into the open embrace of rest. Distantly, he feels the touch of a Force Signature he knows as well as his own. It is the only half of it, after all. Accepting it, is as easy as breathing too. 

There’s a distant shift, even in sleep he can feel the bond snapping back into place, like moons falling into a familiar route, circling a singular sun. Maybe it was not Anakin who was the sun around which Obi-wan was revolving all along, but their shared….

[confidentialsolitude]

“im not thin enough to have an ed” i say while fasting for days/starving myself, restricting, worrying about my weight, terrified of gaining a pound, constantly counting calories, wanting to get deathly thin, and finding enjoyment out of losing weight

[kflixnet]

Check out our member Jun’s headcanons!

sweet venom.

synopsis: when you pull them by the collar of their shirt to kiss them

who: zb1's middle & maknae line x gn!reader (yujin not included)

categories: fluff, sort of suggestive, hurt / comfort, headcanons + short scenarios

warnings: light swearing, mentions of food in gyuvin's section, not proofread bc im such a slay so please please please lmk if there's more

word count: 1.5k

✧ MATTHEW !

⟡ you do it to shut him up /hj. affectionately. this canadian man is funky and we love and cheer for him because of that. but boy do most canadians have something in common: talking. (as a canadian im allowed to say this)

⟡ in this case, it’s not storytelling or his ad campaigns, it’s about how he loses to you in mario kart for the fifth time in a row. for all i know, he could be cracked at mario kart, but let’s be honest, he would somehow go from second place down to eleventh within a matter of minutes. 

⟡ matthew isn't a sore loser by any means, his whining about losing are mainly all for fun and to tease, but after the fourth game… maybe he does gaf y’know :/ 

⟡ pouty!!! also probably throws the controller, lightly mind you, to the side before taking a deep breath in and letting out a silent scream into his palms as the screen flashes with another loss for him. 

⟡ kiss it better otherwise he’ll never play again (that’s a lie) (he’d do almost anything you’d ask him to) (whipped)

matthew leaned his head back against the couch cushion and pinched his arm to make sure that this was real as his character finally crossed the finish line. in eighth place. you looked over at him encouragingly, made a remark about how this was better than last game, before patting his knee. he threw you a scathing glare, whines bubbled up from his throat, and he leaned his full body weight against you. he didn’t notice that there was a tug on his shirt, the soft cotton balled up in your fist as you pulled, before his lips were on yours, his whines drowned out. it was embarrassing how fast he melted into the contact, eyes closed as he rested a hand overtop of yours, he’d never live it down.

✧ TAERAE !

⟡ a kiss like this with taerae would most likely happen in a slow, sort of slow, heat of the moment thing. but it would be a softer, gentle tug of his shirt. nothing too fast. 

⟡ you both would probably be looking at each other already, coming down from the high of hanging out together before bam! it hits the both of you that “wow. i'm incredibly in love with this person.” 

⟡ ngl… he’d be a bit too hesitant to do much about it at first. but i mean. that’s why you’re the one gripping his shirt collar and not the other way around-

⟡ he stares at you with wide eyes and a facial expression like :o when his lips are suddenly pressed against yours. but taerae recovers from the shock fairly quickly and leans into it, eyes closed as he kisses back with the tease of a grin on his face. 

⟡ he’ll pull away with the biggest smile and pinch your cheek before going in to kiss you again, being the one to pull you in this time.

water dripped from his thoroughly soaked hair, trailed down his jaw and continued to dampen the fabric of his shirt, leaving no place dry as you both stood outside amidst the rain. he stared at you, breath coming sharp from his mouth as he looked at you in some awe. you laughed and in return, so did he. you cupped his face gently, wiped a thumb under his eye to clear the water, efforts futile. taerae grabbed your hand and tugged, nose bumped against yours, before he greedily took your lips in his once again.

✧ RICKY !

⟡ he’s insufferable istg / j. ok but you not be able to get away with this move properly imo without having some sort of built up tension. as in the type of tension to cut with a knife, the opposite of taerae’s. 

⟡ ricky would be able to see you go in for the kiss from a mile away… he just. knows these things somehow and is prepared. he would have to be distracted enough, emotionally, in order to pull it off. 

⟡ that or you wrestle him and pin him for long enough. i have such a strong urge to grab this guy by the necktie and shake him around a little. affectionately i swear. 

⟡ despite the colder appearance, ricky is emotionally intelligent and he does have his softer moments. the aftermath of a fight would be the main scene i picture this happening in? 

⟡ “do you even want this?” // “what-” // “do you even want us?” // “of course i do.” type of beat do you get me? you feel me? you hear me? set me freeee- erm. 

there was something about the silence, weight undeniable as you and ricky stood opposite of each other. shoulders tensed, he heaved out a sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose as you dug your nails into the palm of your hand in a closed fist. you knew what was coming; the rush of doubts and worry that would spill from his mouth about the relationship and how he constantly felt as if you deserved better, how he was the damage. you marched with a purpose towards him, placed a hand firmly on his waist as he knotted his brows together in mild confusion, before butterflies bursted in his chest. the pressed collar of his shirt would need ironing later, crumpled in your tight grasp, but ricky couldn’t find it in himself to care all too much, not when he cupped the back of your head and pressed you closer.

✧ GYUVIN !

⟡ it would be a “did you eat the last donut in the fridge?” // “yes. what are you going to do about it?” // “get it back of course.” // *starts making out* type of thing. 

⟡ we know this man has the best reactions to things so just. he flounders when you first kiss him out of the blue; like a literal fish out of water despite this not being the first time lol. 

⟡ idk i just feel like this would happen so often?? like i see gyuvin dating someone with similar energy and excitement towards things (not to say he wouldn’t date you otherwise. man falls hard in general) but just imagine doing something dumb and then one of you pulls the other in. 

⟡ “i can’t believe you just did that.” // “yeah well.” // *making out again* this whole thing is just. gyuvin coded imo. maybe im just sleep deprived. 

⟡ when you do it however… he can’t do anything but stare are you with those eyes of his. you already know the ones. shellshocked, flabbergasted, stunned, electrocuted, astonished, etc etc.

you grinned as gyuvin flailed his arms before resting them on your shoulders, slumping into the kiss. it was sweet in a literal sense; you could taste the powdered sugar and jam that stained his mouth from earlier. his face was fully flushed when you pulled apart. you giggled and swiped a thumb at the corner of his lips, collected the last bit of your sweet treat, and brought it to your mouth with a wink before walking away like nothing ever happened.

✧ GUNWOOK !

⟡ omg the scene i have in mind is when you have to leave for a while, talking like a month or more, and won’t be seeing gunwook for the next while. he’s so intent on making things work out for all the time you guys are doing the ldr. 

⟡ runs through a list of everything you’ll need to pack, triple checks everything with you, makes sure you have the right flight booked… you’ll have to pull him aside and reassure him that you’ll be fine and that he doesn’t need to worry about anything; doing all that is kind of a stress reaction. 

⟡ is so jittery leading up to the day where you have to leave :( clears his schedule to the best of his abilities to make sure he has all the time with you. 

⟡ 100% is seeing you off at the airport don’t even think otherwise. “you’ll call me when you land, right?” // “of course.” // “and you’ll update me with stuff you’ve done? And sec pictures of yourself?” // “sweetie-” 

⟡ kiss him to shut up but softer and with more tears bc he will start crying and bury his face into your shoulder. 

gunwook thought he looked horrible, face puffed up and nose runny as he sniffled and wiped away the tears in the corners of his eyes. you thought completely the opposite; there was something about the early morning sun that shone through the windows and highlighted the rosy parts of his cheeks and the small pout he wore on his lips. he opened his mouth, ready to go on another ramble before you delicately pressed your lips against his. the drawstrings of his hoodie were twirled between your fingers as you pulled lightly on the thick material. he smiled into the touch, eyes still rimmed with tinges of red, and held on for one last kiss.

^ . _ . ^ notes: first post on the new blog... apologies for any mistakes im notorious for writing these late at night and giving up when it comes to proofreading TwT.

© taeiun 2023. all rights reserved. do not copy, repost, translate, modify, or claim any of my writing as yours.