#james kelly x reader

[hearts4sammonroe]

could you write a little fluff of raising two daughters with james, him being the best husband and girl dad despite his past maybe some super cute moments between him and the kids and him and reader. only if you’re comfortable with that of course!

pairing: dad!james kelly x mom!reader

contains: fluff, girl dad James, typical kid behavior.

a/n: thank you izzy!! I’ve never wrote anything like this before, and I don’t have a good relationship w my dad so I pray this is accurate girl dad stuff 💀 i hope it’s okay 😭🫶 also I got the names off of Google lmao.

divider credit: @kodaswrld

James Kelly was trying his best to do his daughter’s hair. You tasked him with getting your daughters ready for the park while you packed lunch. James was miserably failing. Of course, he’d done their hair a million times, but your oldest daughter suggested pigtails. He only knew how to do a ponytail.

“Ah, shit I’ve— I mean shoot I’ve messed it up again.” He sighs.

“Mommy, daddy said a bad word!” Your three year old, Charlotte says.

“Nooo, I said shoot.” James rolls his eyes playfully. After ten minutes, he finished your 7 year old Amelia’s hair. “All done.”

Amelia skipped over to the mirror just to look horrified. “Daddy…”

Thankfully you walked in. “James, what in the world did you do?” You ask, the big grin on your face trying to suppress a laugh.

“I did pigtails!” James shrugs, a smile creeping onto his face.

“Oh, my goodness.” You sigh. For the next twenty minutes, you spent showing him how to do pigtails on your daughter.

Finally, you made it to the park. You had a small picnic lunch which surprisingly wasn’t messy then headed to the playground.

“Mommy, can you push me on the swing? Pleaaaaaase?” Charlotte asks with that gap toothed smile. Of course you oblige.

As you were swinging, James was helping Amelia on the monkey bars. “You can let go now!”

“Are you sure?” James asks.

“Yes, daddy. Promise.” Amelia smiles.

James hesitantly lets go. The poor kid lasted five seconds before falling down onto the mulch, letting out a cry.

“James…” you call out, already knowing the incident happened with him. He was a great dad, the best dad even! But one of those kids always got hurt with him.

“She said to let go.” James shrugs helplessly before picking up his crying daughter. “You okay, doll?”

“Yeah.” Amelia sniffles. “My knee hurts.”

“All right, let me see.” James says, setting her down on the bench and taking his backpack off. Yes. James is a backpack dad.

You walk over, Charlotte on your hip. “It’s okay, baby, see it’s just a little scratch.” You console.

“Yeah, daddy has these magic bandaids. Gonna make it all better.” James says, putting the bandaid onto the girl’s knee.

You, James, and your daughters were now at the grocery store. You were pushing Charlotte in the shopping cart, while James walks hand in hand with Amelia.

“And goldfish, and pudding, and cookies, and ice cream, and…” Charlotte was going on and on with her own requests for snacks. You were just smiling and nodding.

“My knee is all better so I think—“ Amelia stopped to gasp, pointing to the box of cake mix. “Daddy, daddy, daddy, can we pleeeaaaase make a cake?”

James looks over at you, like he’s asking permission. Last time you all tried to make a cake it was a disaster, but you always had to give it a second chance. “… all right.”

“Yay!” Amelia cheers. James grabbed two different cake mixes, mainly because he knew the first one would probably fail.

As you guys were heading into the house, the girls were walking together hand in hand. Just happy to be there. In their own innocent little world.

You look over at James, to see him with a big grin and fishing his phone out. That phone he’s had for years, barely works. But he was taking a picture of the girls, proudly, even with his bad angles.

“Look at our sweet girls.” He smiles.

Surprisingly the baking was going really well! The girls were doing great! But then James messed it up…

“Babe, can you open the bag of flour?”

“Uh-huh.”

He didn’t open it. He ripped it. The flour went flying everywhere. Everywhere. Not just the counter. It was the floor, the wall, the stove, and all over your daughters.

You look up to see your two little girls covered in flour. You didn’t even know how to react until they bursted into a fit of giggles.

“Daddy messed it up this time.” Amelia giggles.

“Yeah, I did.” James nods with a sheepish smile before getting a puff of flour blown at him by Charlotte. He got her back by tickling her, sending puffs of flour giggles everywhere.

You laughed, rolling your eyes playfully and trying to clean up the kitchen counter. And those three menaces… they saw their opportunity. They all threw flour at you.

“James! I just washed my hair!” You squeal, trying to be mad but you couldn’t with the way he was laughing and the girls were giggling.

“Now we all look like that pillsbury doughboy, huh?” James laughed, wiping flour from his eyebrow.

You all indeed looked like the pillsbury doughboy. It was like if he came in extra small, small, medium, and large. Crazy.

Bath time was rough. Getting flour out of two little girl’s hair was hard but you and James worked together. Then had to clean yourselves up for the second time.

You were all snuggled on the couch, in pajamas, freshly clean bodies, all cozy in James’ arms. James had one arm around you, one arm around Amelia, and Charlotte in his lap.

You were watching sleeping beauty. James claimed that he wasn’t interested but he definitely was. He was so invested.

Once the movie ended, he realized you were all asleep and he had been watching it by himself for thirty whole minutes.

He shook his head, chuckling quietly at himself before pulling a big blanket over you all. He glanced down at you with loving eyes, a small smile on his face.

“My favorite girls.”

@anakinstwinklebunny @haydenismyman @anisangeldust

[weixuldo]

Who's your Daddy?

Older!James Kelly x f!reader

(SORRY FOR BEING GONE SO LONG OMLLLL- i’ve never written anything other than starwars lol- but I hope this is enjoyable. I also havent ever written fauxscest and I wouldn't say i'm really into it, but I feel like it fits the character lowkey)

One of James' customer mistakes you for his daughter and you actually play along...James isnt thrilled

warnings: dead dove do not eat?, Fauxscest, age gap, orgasm denial, just regular schmegular smex, name calling,

________________

 “Fuck Jamie!” you squealed as DILF!James Kelly harshly bent you over the old camaro that had been sitting in his shop for the past two weeks. 

His strong tattooed hand had your nicely curled hair in a strong grip as he smacked your ass with the other. “You wanna act like a child so bad, then I’ll treat you like one” he said as he continued to spank you. 

Earlier, James had been finishing up a job on an old Ford pickup and was negotiating payment with the owner when you skipped out from inside the shop wearing shorts and a tank top.

In James’ “office”- really just a room with a chair and desk that he’d toss papers on (or eat you out on)- he had a bowl of candy just in case a client brought around their kids. James never really knew what to do with kids, but you told him having a candy jar would make him seem less scary.

Of course he had one the next day.

But clients never really brought their kids around the shop so you got to enjoy the majority of the candy. Today you were feeling the cherry lollipop and twirled it around your mouth as you scampered out to see what James was up to. 

As you walked out you saw James broad back facing you as he stood with his arms crossed towards a gruff man with gray hair. They looked like they were talking shop- how boring.

You sighed and were about to go back inside when the gray haired man noticed you. 

“Kelly, you never mentioned ya had kids?”. 

James was taken aback- kids? 

He turned to see what the man was looking at when his icy eyes landed on your tantalizing form; it was nearly 97 degrees and humid as fuck- why the hell did you look so good?

He subconsciously licked his bottom lip before remembering the man’s comment; he turned back just about to protest when you skipped up to him and threw your arms around him. 

“He’s never mentioned me?” you said with a fake pout. 

“But dad- I thought you were proud of me? Why don’t you tell your friends about me?” 

James was too stunned to speak- sure, you’d occasionally call him “daddy” in bed but he never thought that act would leave the bedroom. His left eye twitched as he looked down at your doe eyed expression. 

“Haha- I’m sure yer Dad’s proud of ya kiddo- probably just wanted to hide you away cause you’d have all the boys riled up” the gray haired man chuckled as James fought to keep his frustration at bay. 

“Is that why daddy?” you asked innocently. 

James was pissed

…

and extremely turned on.

But he was really bothered that his client was obviously checking you out right in front of him. He clenched his jaw once more before straining out an answer. 

“Yea thats why, sweetheart. I’d hate to have to get the shotgun out of the shed for something other than hunting” he falsely smiled. 

You hugged him once more before heading back inside “Well I’ll let you two keep talking- Thanks for choosing my dad’s shop” you smiled at the man before your boyfriend. 

He shot back a bright grin “Not a problem darlin’, I’ll be sure to come to yer Dad’s shop from now on haha”. 

James clenched his fists at his sides, he could feel himself losing his composure.

The man finally paid James and added a little extra and told him to “buy somethin’ nice for that daughter of yer’s”. 

Oh- James would definitely not be buying you something nice after the little stunt you just pulled. 

“She's a looker Kelly, better keep an eye on her'' the man commented once more before hopping into his newly fixed truck. 

James just nodded as he counted the money the man paid him, “Yea, i’m always lookin at her- especially when she's bouncing on my cock”. 

The old man’s eyes almost popped out of his sockets; “Pardon?!”. 

James finally met his eye once more with a smug look, “Yea, she’s not my daughter- that’s my girlfriend”. 

The man just sat with the truck held in reverse as he tried to replay the whole interaction. 

“And I’m gonna fuck her raw for that shit she just pulled- Thanks for the tip and have a nice day” he said before shoving the cash into his pocket and shutting the garage gate. 

You had taken a seat at James’ desk as you mindlessly scrolled on your phone. You thought it was funny to play with him like that but you didn’t think it would get him too worked up- so when you heard him call for you to come out to the garage your body buzzed with nervous excitement. 

He had called your name harsher than he normally would so you could tell he was feeling some type of way but you couldn’t quite put your finger on what… were you about to be lectured, yelled at, or fucked? 

Maybe all three heh

James was standing domineeringly with his feet slightly parted and arms crossed tight as you entered the garage. 

“Yesss? What’s wrong Jamie” you answered innocently. 

He clicked his tongue and cut his eyes, “you know damn well what you were doing”. 

You pouted your pretty lips and shook your head, “I don’t really see anything wrong with joking” you said smugly. 

Annnd now you’re here, bent over his camaro with him ruthlessly plunging his thick cock in and out of you.

James’ veins popped as he tugged at your hair with one hand and angled your hips up with the other. He was panting like an animal as he forcefully thrusted into you, heavy balls slapping against your swollen clit. 

“Fuck, please! Jamie- Slow down!” you cried as you grounded yourself on the hood of the old car as your boyfriend hit it from the back. 

“Jamie?” he questioned, squeezing your ass harder.

“James!” you managed.

He let out a low chuckle that made you even wetter than before, “you wanted to call me dad so bad earlier, what happened, doll?”. 

You could hear his stupid smirk in the way he spoke, you wanted to say something but all that was coming out were pathetic whimpers and moans.

You felt him shudder as you clenched your gummy walls around his throbbing cock- “s-shit” he cursed under his breath as he slowly pulled out until just his tip was left in you. 

Your eyes were already brimming with tears-but when he stopped his movements, the tears started to flow. Your poor pussy ached for him to slide between your folds- once he started, you needed him to finish. 

It was almost criminal how empty you felt without your boyfriend’s dick inside of you. You began to whine the longer he held still. 

“You think you’re so slick, little brat” he growled as his rough palm made contact with your bright red ass cheek for the umpteenth time. 

He leaned down to whisper in your ear and you felt the cool silver of his cross chain as it slid down your arched spine. 

“Who am I” he asked with a dangerous lilt to his voice. 

“James” you cried again, you knew that was the wrong answer but you needed him to keep going.

Without warning he plunged into you and bottomed out as your eyes rolled back in pleasure. But just as fast as he was in, he had resumed the previous position. 

“Incorrect” he said before pulling completely out. 

You whimpered before he flipped you around so that you were staring at his flushed face; God he was perfect. Looking down between the two of you- his hard cock was completely coated in your combined juices and twitched as he stood over you. 

He grabbed your hips and lined himself up with your aching core once more before shoving himself in with an abrupt snap of his hips. You gripped onto his forearms as you yelped. 

“Who am I” he asked once more, his voice low with lust. 

“D-Daddy” you cried in humiliation as you shied away from James’ watchful eyes. 

He halted his movements and leaned closer to your ear, “Almost. What did you call me earlier, doll?” he said with a devious smirk. 

You took a deep breath and closed your eyes, “...dad”. 

“What was that baby? Didn’t hear ya” James taunted. 

“DAD!” you wailed as you dug your nails into your older man’s forearms. 

“That’s it, Sweetheart” he smiled as he quickened his pace. 

You moaned as his sloppy thrusts jiggled your breasts around for Jame’s viewing pleasure. You felt your high approaching fast. 

“Fuck- I”m close- I” you cried as James continued diving deeper and deeper into your sopping cunt. 

James bit his bottom lip and pulled out as fast as he had been fucking you; leaving you with a disappointingly empty feeling. You gasped at the loss of his massive member and your eyes shot open to see why your boyfriend felt the need to pull out. 

There he was in all of his glory; brow adorned with sweat , face flushed, brows drawn together, and lips parted. Soon you felt his warm ropes of cum spilling onto your stomach, you whimpered at the wasted seed and your lost orgasm. 

He finished stroking himself with a shudder and squeezed out the rest of his spend onto you with a low groan. 

“W-why?” you almost cried as your boyfriend began to clean himself off. 

“Good girls wouldn’t cum from their dad’s dick-” he tossed you a towel from the hanger on the wall, “I hope you’ve learned your lesson, little one”. 

“Once you’ve had time to think about your actions and clean up- maybe I’ll consider letting you cum” he said before leaving you alone and empty in his dim office. 

***

lol I hope you enjoyed :)

[awhhayden]

GOD BLESS YOUR DADS GENETICS ⋆˚࿔ [PT.1]

CONTAINS : [ fem!reader x dilf!james x son!sam ]

DISCLAIMER: I do not condone cheating, this is fictional and all characters are 18+ [ NO INCEST ]

꩜.ᐟ You had been dating Sam kelly for six months now. You were always over at his house lounging around in your tiny pjs and skirts. Sam lived with his father James kelly, Sam’s mother left when Sam was very young. James had always enjoyed teasing you and poking fun at Sam. You couldn’t help but enjoy both of their companies…

꩜.ᐟ Sam Kelly, who’s house you have practically lived at for the past Six months, who would give you soft kisses in bed, and would rub your back until you fell asleep. Sam Kelly who would show you his favorite comic books and let you play Taylor Swift as loud as you wanted on his brand new stereo set.

꩜.ᐟ James Kelly, who’d wake you and Sam up with pancakes and bacon, who’d carry you upstairs to Sam’s room after you fell asleep on the couch whilst Sam was at work. James Kelly who’d let you pick out a cheesy romance on movie night and act like he wasn’t interested but was secretly invested, James who’d roll his eyes and smile and hand you his credit card to go grocery shopping for the house.

꩜.ᐟ Tonight you lounge on their couch, Your legs dangling off the edge as you lay your head in Sam’s lap, Sam munched on a bag of chips whilst you both watched the TV, Suddenly the front door clicked open and James walked around the corner into the living room and tickled your feet, you yelped and snatched your legs up “James!” you squealed, he laughed his deep hearty laugh and wiped his dirty hands on his work jeans “I ordered pizza kiddos” he said. James always ordered you guys pizzas on Fridays, “Sausage?” Sam asked rasing his eyebrow, “You know it” James winked his eye.

30 minutes later the three of you were sat in the living room, Pizza and soda in hand scrolling on Netflix. “Oh! can we watch That one?” you asked excitedly pointing to yet another Romance movie. “What?! No! you picked last week!” Sam objected. You gave him a pouty look. James cleared his throat, “How about this one? we will meet in the middle” James suggested. “Fine by me” Sam shrugged, you nodded.

Torwards the end of the movie you were dozing off, Sam got up from the couch “I’m gonna go smoke real quick” he leaned down and pecked your forehead before walking out the back door. You snuggled into the arm of the couch sleepily. James sat in the recliner sipping his beer, eyes on the TV screen. You yawn and stretch, James glances over at you and laughs “Tired Princess?” he asks raising an eyebrow. You stand up “Yeah Yeah,” you wave him off as you head up the stairs “Goodnight James” you yawn once more, He looks up the stairs “Goodnight sweetheart” he calls after you.

꩜.ᐟ late in the night James woke up. He yawned and stretched before standing up and stepping into his slippers. He rubbed his eyes before lazily walking out into the hallway and towards the bathroom. Halfway through the hall he stopped dead in his tracks. Was that?…he thought to himself. “Oh Sam mhm” he heard you moan quietly yet softly. James took a step forward to Sam’s bedroom door.

the bed was creaking slightly. Your soft moans and whimpers could hardly be heard, but James heard them. His face reddened and he took a step back. His palms were sweating and for the first time in a long time, James Kelly was flustered. He hurried to the bathroom and quietly shut the door. It wasn’t enough. Your soft moans could still be heard. James leaned forward palms on the sink trying to ignore the betrayal in his pants. He looked in the mirror and saw his flushed expression. He splashed some cold water on his face.

James’s mind was racing he flipped the seat down and sat down on the toilet. The growing tent in his pants was obvious and he groaned. James hesitated before he reached his hand down in his pants. He wouldn’t be able to sleep like this. He leaned his head back and palmed himself. Another moan could be heard from behind the wall and James sighed as he stroked himself again.

Before he knew it he was stroking himself in time with your moans. Faster and faster. He imagined your pretty face, your soft skin, your concentrated face as you chased your high. He imagined it was him on top of you with you withering and moaning beneath him. It only took a few more strokes before James quietly groaned as he released himself onto his stomach.

as he cleaned himself up your moans had stopped and he assumed you guys had finished. He splashed some cold water in his face once more and looked at his reflection ‘what the hell is wrong with me?’ he thought in shame and disgust. You were his son’s girlfriend for crying out loud. You were 20+ years younger than him. You were to soft. Too sweet and innocent for someone like him.

꩜.ᐟ the next morning you awoke to the smell of pancakes and the bed next to you empty, You scurried out of bed and hopped down the stairs. “Hmm yummy” you commented as you walked into the kitchen. Sam was at the table eating a plate, “Sammy, why didn’t you wake me up?” you pouted at him. He grinned “I know better than to wake sleeping beauty” he teased. James was at the stove flipping pancakes.

He quickly plopped them down onto a plate before turning around and handing it to you without a word. His expression was something you couldn’t place. You took the plate before walking past him to the butter and syrup. Your shoulder brushed his arm and he quickly stepped back and cleared his throat, “I..um- I’ve got to get to work. See you later Sammy” James said patting Sam’s shoulder before walking out the door without another word. You arched a brow “What’s up with him?” you asked Sam as you poured syrup on your plate. Sam shrugged “I guess he didn’t sleep well” he said taking another bite.

and indeed he didn’t….

ahh kinda nervous about this series! not sure where it’s going yet but let me know what team ur on so far…

TAGLIST: @anakinstwinklebunny @fredswrite @divineani @speaknow-sw @nikiloveshayden @haydensheartt

ask to join!! <3

[skyguytoast]

YOU’RE THE ONLY THING THAT I GOT RIGHT - JAMES KELLY X YOU

SYNOPSIS:  James always believed he was doomed to destroy everything good in his life. But then there was you—too good, too kind. You stayed through the mess, even when he tried to push you away. The night before the heist, he comes to you, unsure if he'll make it out alive. He doesn’t ask for forgiveness… but he asks to be held one last time. WARNINGS:  angst  WORDS:  785 A/N:  Hi loves of my life, how are you? I love James, he's so suffering poor thing, every time I watch the movie I want to pick him up and never let go🤧😔❤️‍🩹So, basically, I wrote what I would like to do, anyway I hope you like it, comments, likes and reblogs are always appreciated 🩷🩷🩷 And requests are open, please, ask!! DIVIDERS BY @cafekitsune

When I take a look at my life and all of my crimes  You're the only thing that I think I got right  I'll never give you away 'Cause  I already made, already made that mistake

You were curled up on the living room couch, already in your pajamas, balancing your laptop on a pillow while your fingers raced over the keys. The sales spreadsheets for the small grocery store where you worked blurred together, the numbers twisting into knots the longer you stared at them.

Your hair was piled into a messy bun — half from comfort, half from the hundred times you’d run your fingers through it out of frustration. A forgotten mug of coffee sat half-full on the table, gone cold hours ago. Takeout burger wrappers were scattered across the surface, your half-eaten sandwich abandoned next to crumpled napkins and a mess of sauce packets.

You barely heard the knock at the door over your headphones, only catching the second round thanks to the ad flashing across your laptop screen. Frowning, you shoved the pillow aside and padded barefoot to the door, wondering who would show up this close to midnight.

When you cracked it open, your heart twisted.

James stood there, hunched slightly like he was carrying the weight of the world on his back. His dark hoodie hung loose around his frame, grease-stained jeans rumpled and dusty. His face was drawn, his blue eyes a storm of anxiety and something softer — something broken.

You didn’t hesitate. You reached for him.

Wordlessly, James let you pull him inside, his body heavy with exhaustion. He dropped onto the couch where you’d been working, elbows braced on his knees, hands scrubbing at the worn denim on his thighs as if trying to wipe away something invisible.

“What happened, James?” you asked gently, kneeling in front of him, your hands hovering just shy of his trembling ones.

“Nothing you need to worry about, sweetie,” he said, the edges of his southern drawl curling around the words, soft but strained.

You didn’t believe him. You knew him too well. You could see the chaos crashing behind his tired eyes.

“James,” you whispered, your voice full of quiet insistence, “is it about Frank? Did he… force you into something again?”

Your lips parted to say more, but he reached out, brushing his thumb over your mouth in a silent plea. “Not tonight, baby,” he murmured, voice cracking. “I don’t wanna talk. I just—” His chest heaved. “I just need you.”

The words cracked something open in you.

Without hesitation, you climbed onto the couch beside him, fitting yourself against his side until your thighs touched. "I'm here, James. Always," you promised.

He let out a shuddering breath, turning to press his face into your chest, arms snaking around your waist like you were the only thing keeping him alive. His fingers clutched at the fabric of your pajama shirt like he was afraid you’d slip away.

“I know,” he whispered thickly. “That’s the problem.”

You didn't push for more. You knew better. You simply gathered him close, threading your fingers into his messy dark hair and stroking soothing lines across his scalp, cradling him with an almost maternal tenderness.

Softly, you began to hum — an old lullaby your grandmother used to sing, letting the quiet vibrations anchor him. His body slowly melted into yours, the tension bleeding out of him little by little, though you could feel the slight tremors still running through him.

You didn’t flinch when you felt the warmth of his tears soaking through your shirt. You didn’t tell him to stop. You just held him tighter, pressing kisses to his hair, to his forehead, to any piece of him you could reach without pulling him from the shelter of your arms.

After a long while, your lips brushed the shell of his ear. “Do you want to go to bed, baby?” you offered softly, rubbing small circles against his back.

James shook his head, a muffled, broken sound escaping him. "Nah," he whispered hoarsely, "don’t wanna move… don’t wanna be away from you."

Your heart cracked wide open.

“It’s okay, baby,” you murmured, rocking him slightly. “We can stay right here. As long as you need.”

Slowly, James lifted his head, blinking up at you with raw vulnerability laid bare across his face. You cupped his cheek, your thumb brushing away the lingering salt tracks on his skin.

He leaned forward, brushing a soft, desperate kiss against your lips — a silent prayer, a plea for forgiveness he didn’t know how to ask for yet. You answered by kissing him back, gently but firmly, pouring all your love and reassurance into that one moment.

If tomorrow he had to walk into hell, you would make sure that tonight — at least tonight — he would know what it felt to be in heaven, to be safe, to be loved without condition.

TAGLIST: @ihearthayden @anakinstwinklebunny @sometimescharlolette @awhhayden @dessxoxsworld  @speaknow-sw

[slutforfinnickodair]

𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐅𝐀𝐕𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐓.

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐲𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐛𝐢𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠���� 𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐡𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐠𝐚𝐩 (𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝟐𝟎/ 𝐡𝐚𝐲𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐢𝐬 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐚𝐥𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭) 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩, 𝐒𝐌𝐔𝐓 𝐰𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐨𝐫!𝐇𝐚𝐲𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐱 𝐅!𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐚/𝐧: 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐨 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲 𝐢𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞! 𝐀𝐥𝐬𝐨 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐨𝐧 𝐰𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐩𝐚𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 {𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐥𝐮𝐯𝐯𝐫𝐩𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐳} 𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲😭

You had decided to wear a button up and skirt to class today. The upper buttons of your shirt were unbuttoned and showed a little bit of cleavage. The skirt was kinda short and your ass looked perfect in it. Honestly, you looked hot, but you were running too late to see yourself in the mirror.

It was History and Hayden Mr. Christensen taught that subject. No girl in your university ever missed his lectures, hoping for him to at least smile at them, no, at least notice them. Don't blame them, he was hot.

Little did the girls know that his heart and his dick, already belonged to a certain Y/N L/N.

Yeah. You were in a relationship with your History professor. For almost 6 months now.

It started out as longing stares at each other during classes with Hayden fantasizing about your lips around his cock and you being too busy to stare at his beautiful face, wanting nothing more than to kiss him and make him yours.

One day you accidentally left your textbook in his class, and you went to fetch it, not knowing only he was in the classroom. One thing led to another and thirty minutes later he was pounding himself into you as his gagged you with his fingers, shutting your moans up, his other hand pulling at your hair as he let out low grunts. And boy that was like the best sex you ever had in your life.

That day then led to other days and nights with you beneath Hayden, as he ruined you completely. He was a literal sex god, if you were to be honest. Nobody did it like him. He made sure that whenever he fucked you, his name would be the only thing on your tongue.

But there were times when he was gentle too. Those were the times when you could see his soft side. Not that he wasn't caring or gentle, but all that was thrown out of the window whenever you guys had sex.

Soon you guys started secretly dating, and the sex got even better, as Hayden knew that you were his to mark.

Your dates would often consist of you hanging out at his apartment, watching a movie, yet neither of you would actually watch it, being too busy making out with each other. You guys couldn't actually go out together without being spotted and getting in trouble, so you both would rather sit in his house and hang out. Or sometimes, he would help you study, and then reward you for being his good girl.

Sometimes, when he would be stressed from all the work, and papers to grade, you would just cuddle him as he would fall asleep with his face buried in your boobs, which would make you chuckle.

You loved Hayden, and so did he love you. There was risk in your relationship, but at the end of the day, it was all worth it.

And oh boy, you were lost in your thoughts. Again. You were going to be so late for your history lecture.

You ran down the hallways, pushing past against other students, making your way to Hayden Professor Christensen’s classroom. Thankfully, you weren't late, as students were still entering the classroom.

Your eyes met his as he stared at you with love and adoration. But seeing your outfit, his eyes went wide. He took a good look at your boobs and your legs, his mouth watering at the sight. You frowned, not realising why he was acting that way.

A typical frat boy took a seat beside as you, as Hayden Professor Christensen started his class. He tried so hard to concentrate on his teaching, but everytime he would look at your direction, the bulge in his pants would become harder. He was gonna fuck you after the class. He just had to go through this 2 hour lecture.

You met his eyes as he continued to speak about American History. You shifted in your seat and he could almost see your pink panties. He shut up himself before he moaned. Oh boy you were going to get it rough later.

As the lecture ended, students hurried out of the classroom and as always, you stayed behind. You noticed him acting wierd all the time, so you wanted to talk to him and help him about it. So you locked the door and made your way towards him, placing a hand on his shoulder comfortingly.

"Hayden, are you-" You were cut off by him attaching his lips to yours and as always you melted in his touch.

Without detaching his lips fron yours, he pushed you on the desk, so that now you were sitting on it. Lifting you up as you wrapped your legs around his waist, his hands roamed around your sides and your ass as he groped it and squeezed it. You moaned into the kiss, as he started kissing your neck hungrily. He even made sure to leave a few bite marks on it.

"Hay, wait-" "Shh, less talking more kissing princess," he said in a raspy tone, as he unbuttoned your shirt hastily helped you take off your skirt, leaving you almost bare in front of him. You then helped him take his shirt off as he played with the clip of your bra, unhooking it and throwing it away. He placed a hot and wet kiss on your breast as his hands slipped inside your panties. You let out a moan as he rubbed your clit into figure 8s.

His fingers worked their magic against your clit as you helped him unbuckle his pants and he pulled down his boxers. His long-hard member sprung free and he removed your panties with ease.

He took out a condom from his drawer and tore it open, as he rolled it onto his length. "You ready?" he asked as you have him a nod. He slid into you easily as you were already wet from all the rubbing he did on your clit. You let out a pornographic moan as he buried himself into your g-spot. You clenched around him as he hissed. He started out in a steady pace, and you couldn't keep in your moans as his one hand made its way on your clit and his mouth attached yo your nipple. He nibbed on it as he rubbed vigorously on your clit.

"H- Hayden, I- oh my god, it feels so good," you moaned gripping his back for support. His pace got even faster and the sound of your skin slapping against him was echoed across the room. "Yes- oh my god!" you screamed as he hit your g-spot repeatedly.

"Shh, you don't want anyone to hear you, do you?" He mocked you as he almost pulled out you, only to slam back with a force. You screamed as white spots covered your vision. He thrusted in and out of you and you felt close. "Hay, I..uh..so close," you moaned as you clenched around him again.

He moaned at the sensation, as he placed a wet and sloppy kiss on your lips. "Fuck- I'm gonna cum," he grunted as his thrusts grew sloppy. He hit your g-spot again, and without warning, your orgasm slammed into you. You moaned as you rode out your high. A few more thrusts and he came into the condom, as he moaned into your ear.

He kept himself buried inside you for a few more moments, as you guus were still coming down from your last orgasm. Soon he slid out of you and rolled off the condom and threw it in the dustbin. He kissed you deeply, as you smiled into the kiss.

"You did good today angel,"

"Well maybe, I should wear skirts more often,"

[roryheartz]

save me frat boy hayden

[anakinstwinklebunny]

PAIRING: james kelly x pregnant!reader

SMUT ❦

JAMES KELLY had been nothing but careful with you since the day you told him you were pregnant. There was no roughhousing. No spontaneous sex. No bending you over the kitchen counter while dinner was still cooking. Just nothing.

At first, you thought it was sweet—how gentle he was, how his big hands always rested on your belly, being protective, reverent. How he pressed kisses to the swell of it, how his eyes shined whenever the baby moved in the womb. Yet overtime, you started to feel..needy, to say the least. Seeing those long fingers work on whenever he was doing, hold random stuff, how he spread his legs too casually, made you FERAL. And you had enough of acting like it wasn't taking a tool on you.

So here you were, desperate enough to climb into his lap at the end of the day, straddling him on the couch, grinding against the hard length in his sweats with slow, teasing rolls of your hips.

James groaned, head falling back, hands gripping your hips to still you. “Baby, you gotta stop.”

“Why?” You whined, dragging your nails down his chest, watching his muscles tense. “You haven’t touched me in weeks.”

He exhaled through his nose, patience hanging on by a damn thread to not just do what you wanted him to do. “You know why.”

You pouted, yet rolled your hips again, making him suck in a sharp breath. He was hard—so deliciously hard—straining against his sweats.

"Jimmie," you whispered, leaning in, pressing your lips to the shell of his ear. "I need you..please.."

You kissed down his neck, grinding against him until you could feel the way his cock twitched underneath your clothed core. His hands suddenly grabbed your ass, kneading, squeezing so beautifully you had to close your eyes and sink in the feeling. His lips brushed your ear. “You wanna ride me, baby?”

You nodded quickly, already moving your hands to pull off his shirt. He caught your wrists, eyes locking with yours with seriousness. “Nice and slow. You hear me?”

You swallowed hard, nodding again.

And when he lifted you slightly, lifting his hips to push his sweats down just enough to free his cock; thick and leaking at the mushroomy tip already, to which you could feel the shiver spreading up your spine. You braced your hands against his chest as he smoothly took off your lacy white, already soaked, panties and lined himself up, dragging his tip through your slick folds..slowly..teasingly. You whined at the freely feeling, rolling your hips against him, hoping to have more of this friction.

“Shit,” James cursed as you finally sank down on him, inch by inch, stretching around him so perfectly. “You feel so good, baby. Always so tight around me.” your mind spined in the great feeling as his hands gripped your thighs, steadying you, keeping you from taking too much at once. It were slow, deep strokes—he really made sure you felt every single inch of him, rubbing against your walls just right, softly making sure he reached that breathtaking spot in your core.

Your hands braced on his chest, to make it easier for yourself to lifting up slowly, before sinking back down, gasping at the impossible stretch that happened.

James moaned low in his throat, hands gripping your hips, helping you guide your movements. “That’s it, baby. Just like that.” your belly brushed against his abs, and James’s hand immediately went to rest there, thumb rubbing slow, lazy circles over your swollen, stretched skin. “Doin’ so good for me,” he murmured, watching you through hooded eyes, thumb gently pressing down to your navel, hooking it up with his digit. With your mind spiraling, eyes rolling back, and lips parting to exhale another series of moans, your gummy walls clenched around his member, your body already trembling from the building, strong orgasm that pooled in the lower base of your tummy

“Yeah, you close?” he breathlessly muttered, sensing your soon-to-come release. You only whimpered, grinding against him, trying to chase your high, while James was right there with you—his movements slowing, grip tightening. "Yeah, me too baby, me too"

When he came it was a deep, slow, drawn-out—his body tensed underneath you, face twisting in the overwhelming sensation, his hips bucking up just once before he stilled. You collapsed against his chest, breathless, his arms wrapping around you immediately, holding you close, pressing soft kisses to your shoulder. “Wasn’t too much?” he murmured after a moment, voice softer now, yet hoarse, hand trembling as he run it down his face. Your lips only curled in satisfied smile when you shook your head, before pressing a lazy kiss to his jaw.

TAG LIST: @kingdomhate @divineani @haydensprettyprincess @skyguys-princess @catnipaddictt @heartscone @haydensbbg @inneedsoffanfics @jediavengers @babybell-cheese @anisluvrgirl @slutforfinnickodair @xhunnybeeex @fuckmyskywalker @gallerygourmet @ysrjune @anakinskwkler @cookybananas @emotionallybruisedx @diorvalentina @sevinax @throughparisallthroughrome @aniiuv @ritosparty @ninastyless @lily-strnlo @thesassypadawan @awhhayden @sydkneez @anisangeldust @l1ttle-misssunsh1ne @anakinca @rubiesarepretty @luluartpop @cloverina @nikiloveshayden @cherriies-snake

[lunarnightt]

A little thing called love :: James Kelly x Fem! reader

Summery :: James, a reformed criminal starts working on a car of a preschool teacher who just started her job. Who would have thought that he falls in love with the girl with paint on her shoes

CW :: no smut! James is a love-sick puppy, the reader is slightly not self-aware, just pure fluff!

Author's note :: This might be a mini series plus come with a side bot! So enjoy this first bit!

Word count :: 1.6k words

James Kelly was a lot of things—ex-con, screw-up, mechanic—but at this point, he figured good person didn’t make the list.

He'd done shit he couldn’t take back. Bad shit. The kind that stuck to your bones no matter how many times you tried to scrub it off. And because of that, he didn’t think he deserved much. Not happiness. Not peace. Not people.

He clocked in six to nine at the garage, wiped grease off his hands, cracked a beer, and sat in silence until the day ended. Rinse and repeat. Same rhythm. Same quiet. Same ghosts.

James didn’t mind the solitude—not really. Talking to people felt pointless most of the time. He’d try sometimes, throw out a sentence or two, but it never stuck. Either he didn’t have the time, or he just didn’t give a damn. Maybe both. He figured if he kept to himself, he couldn't mess anything up.

His world was small. The shop. The grocery store. That was it. Any talking he did happened in between—quick, surface-level, nothing that lingered.

The day was dragging. Real slow. A couple of folks came in, needing the usual—tune-ups, busted heaters, mystery noises under the hood. He wiped the sweat from his neck, jotted down a list of what needed doing, totaled the cost.

Then he heard it.

Engine rolling up. Not loud, not fancy—just enough to catch his ear.

He glanced up and saw it—a white car, dust-covered, dent near the fender. Not much, but what caught his eye was the little drawing hanging from the rearview. Crayon colors, paper curling at the edges. Looked like a kid’s handiwork—maybe a niece, maybe her own.

The engine cut off, and the driver door opened.

She stepped out.

Simple sundress, all floral and soft, like she didn’t belong anywhere near an oil-stained garage. Her Converse were speckled in paint—messy, lived-in. She looked like spring in a junkyard.

She shoved her sunglasses up onto her head, hesitating as she stepped out. Her sneakers smacked against the pavement with each slow step, and from the way she moved—like the concrete might bite back—James could tell she was nervous as hell.

She looked like she came from a different world. Somewhere with lemonade stands and freshly cut grass. Even her dress had smudges of dried paint like she’d walked out of an art project and straight into the grease-stained lot of his reality.

"Excuse me?" she asked, voice small, unsure. She was close now, hands fidgeting at her sides, eyes flicking everywhere but his.

James didn’t move right away. Just watched her for a beat, the rag still clenched in his hand. She looked like she’d rather be anywhere else.

"Do you know how much it would be to fix my car’s air conditioner?"

He finally stepped forward, slow, measured. “Depends on what’s wrong with it.”

She nodded, but her eyes dropped, teeth pressing into her bottom lip like she was holding something back. When she looked up again, it was like she was hoping he’d have all the answers before she even finished explaining.

“It’s not cooling at all,” she said, frowning. “It’s like… stuck on heat or something.”

James sighed through his nose, nodded once. “Pop the hood.”

You gave a small nod and turned back toward the car, your sundress swaying behind you as you moved. The click of your shoes echoed in the lot before you climbed into the driver’s seat and popped the hood.

James didn’t say anything. He just stepped forward, wiping his palms on the rag before leaning over the engine, eyes narrowing as he zeroed in on the compressor. His fingers moved with practiced ease, stained with grease and years of knowing exactly where to look.

You stood nearby, arms crossed over your chest, trying not to stare—but failing.

There was something about him.

The way that old work jumpsuit hung low on his hips, unzipped halfway to reveal a white tank soaked in sweat. The fabric clung to his chest, stretched slightly over muscle—earned, not given. His dark hair was slicked back, damp from the heat, strands sticking to his forehead. The shop’s AC had been busted for weeks, and judging by the way he moved, no one was in a rush to fix it.

Oil clung to his arms and shirt. Sweat glistened along the curve of his biceps, catching the light from the hanging fixture above like it had been placed there on purpose.

Then there were his eyes—clear, piercing blue. Not icy, not cold. Just... calm. Like the edge of the ocean where the waves met sand, soft and steady. There was a small crease between his brows as he leaned in, tongue peeking out in concentration, eyes scanning every inch of the engine.

And just when you thought that was enough to knock the breath out of your lungs, your eyes landed on the ink that traced up his arm. A tree . Black and intricate, stretching from the back of his hand all the way beneath his sleeve. Not flashy. Not loud. Just... there. Rooted deep.

You swallowed hard.

He was handsome in a way that didn’t ask for attention. Handsome in the way a storm is—quiet, but impossible to ignore.

“It’s an electrical issue,” James said, finally lifting his head from under the hood.

His voice cut through the quiet, low and rough, like he hadn’t used it much today. His eyes flicked to you, taking you in all over again, pulling you straight out of your thoughts.

You blinked, cleared your throat, and stepped forward, your arms dropping to your sides. "How much would it cost to fix it?" you asked, your voice soft—too soft for a place like this. Sweet in a way James hadn’t heard in a long time. It hit him harder than he expected.

“Over three hundred,” he said. “Maybe three-fifty.”

You winced, the sound slipping past your lips like air from a punctured tire. Your gaze shifted to the car, lips pressed into a line, clearly calculating something.

“How long would it take?” you murmured, still watching the vehicle like it might answer instead of him.

James looked at you—really looked. Part of him didn’t quite believe you were standing there. You didn’t fit in this setting. You were too bright, too warm. For a second, he wondered if the heat was playing tricks on him.

He swallowed hard, wiped his hand again out of habit, then stepped around the car, laying his palm on the hood like it would steady him.

“Could be a few hours,” he said. “Could be a few days. Depends how deep it goes.”

You nodded slowly, brushing your fingers through your hair, and for a second he swore time slowed. Just a second.

“Do I pay you now, or…?”

He shook his head quickly. “No. Just wait. I’ll let you know when it’s done.”

His voice was quieter this time. Not dismissive—just cautious, like he wasn’t used to anyone offering something up front without taking something back.

You nodded, rubbing your palms against the fabric of your dress before sticking your hand out toward him, that easy smile tugging at your lips.

“I’m Y/n, by the way.”

James blinked like the words took a second to register, then gave you a small, quiet smile—just the corner of his mouth twitching. It was the most expression he'd shown all day.

He reached out, slipping his rough, calloused hand into yours.

“James,” he said. “James Kelly.”

The second your skin touched his, something shifted. It was subtle, electric—like something had snapped into place. He didn’t move for a second, hand still in yours, trying to process it.

It wasn’t just warmth. It was right.

It rattled him more than he wanted to admit. His jaw clenched slightly, like maybe he was mad at himself for liking how good it felt to hold a stranger’s hand. You had just told him your name, and already, it felt like something he shouldn’t want.

But you felt it too.

That strange, magnetic pull in the pit of your stomach. Your breath caught slightly, knees just a little too soft now. It was like your body already knew something your mind hadn’t caught up to yet.

His eyes locked with yours—intense, steady—and for a second, it was like the rest of the world didn’t exist. Just that gaze, the heat of his palm, and the silence stretching between you like a thread pulling tight.

You laughed quietly, glancing down to break the moment as your hands finally parted. His dropped to his hips, fingers curling against the fabric of his jumpsuit.

“It’s nice to meet you, James,” you said softly, eyes trailing over him once more before shifting back to your car.

And just like that, the moment passed. But not really. It lingered—humming underneath the surface, waiting.

Maybe once he fixed your car, that feeling would go away.

That pull in his chest. That quiet ache he’d learned to live with. The need—that hollow need—for someone to actually be in his life. Maybe he’d hand over your keys, give a polite nod, and watch you drive away, and things would go back to how they were.

Back to routine. Back to silence. Back to being the same brooding, solitary guy who only trusted engines more than people.

But deep down, James already knew better.

Because from the second your hand touched his, from the second your voice softened the air around him like sunlight slipping through cracked blinds, something changed. Something stirred.

You were like warmth in a place that hadn’t seen it in years. An eternal sunshine he never asked for—but suddenly needed.

And as he watched you move—smiling, talking, just existing like it didn’t weigh heavy—he realized something that hit harder than any job, any debt, any mistake that kept him up at night.

He wanted more of it.

More of you.

And that scared him more than anything else ever had.

Author's note :: Hello everyone! So this is my first James Kelly fic, and as you guys can see— I intend to either make this a short series or a long one. It's whatever you guys want! Also, like I mentioned, this will include a side bot, so I will let you guys vote on what bot you would like for it to be in another post! Please reblog and like to give feedback!

[cloverina]

HIS JERSEY..

warnings: porn with a plot??, creampie, (soft) dom!scott, sub!reader, tummy bulge and i think that’s it !!

summary: the popular cheerleader stole scott’s jersey off you.. so he got it back and gave you a surprise:3

The stadium lights blazed overhead, casting a warm glow over the sea of faces in the stands. The air had anticipation and the smell of freshly cut grass. You nervously clutched the hem of the oversized jersey that hung from your shoulders, the number 10 proudly displayed across the back. It was the first time you had ever been to a football game, but tonight was different; you were here to support your boyfriend, Scott.

You felt the weight of a hundred eyes as you made your way to your seat, the whispers of the other students trailing after you like a ghostly echo. You had always been a quiet presence at school, the kind that blended into the background. The jersey was your silent declaration of support for Scott, your way of showing him you were there, even if you weren't ready to shout it from the rooftops.

As you took your seat, the cheerleader's glossy smile turned into a sneer. She strutted over with the confidence of someone who had never felt a moment's doubt in her life. "What do you think you're doing wearing that?" she snarled, her voice a knife cutting through the air. "You're not one of us."

You swallowed hard, trying to find the words to explain that the jersey was Scott's, that it was a symbol of your love and support. "It's... it's my boyfriend's," you murmured, feeling the fabric cling to your sweaty palms. "He asked me to wear it tonight."

Her eyes narrowed into slits, and she stepped closer, her breath a toxic cloud of mint gum. "Your boyfriend? Scott? He's mine. He's always been mine," she spat, her fingers wrapping around the material of the jersey. "Now give it to me."

The stands grew quiet as the whispers turned into a hush. Your cheeks burned, and you felt the heat of embarrassment crawling up your neck. You knew Scott had noticed the commotion, his eyes flickering in your direction every few seconds, but you couldn't meet his gaze. You were trapped in a nightmare, and the only escape was to hand over the jersey. You slowly pulled it off, the fabric sticking to your sweaty skin, and handed it over. She took it with a triumphant smirk before flouncing away, leaving you in your t-shirt.

At half time, the cheerleader was signing autographs, basking in the attention she so clearly craved. Scott's eyes searched the crowd, and when he saw you sitting there, shivering without his jersey, something in him snapped. He marched over, his expression a storm cloud of anger and protectiveness. The crowd parted for him like the Red Sea, unsure of what was happening but sensing the tension in the air.

He grabbed your hand, his grip firm but not painful. "Come with me," he said through gritted teeth, pulling you through the throng of people. You followed, your heart racing faster than the players on the field. The cheerleader looked up, her smile fading when she saw the determination in Scott's eyes. "What's the problem?" she asked, her voice laced with false sweetness.

"This," Scott said, pointing at the jersey she had draped over her shoulder like a trophy. "It's not yours. Apologize to her, now." His voice was a thunderclap that echoed through the now-silent stadium. The cheerleader's eyes widened, and she took a step back, suddenly aware that she might have crossed a line.

You felt a rush of warmth and gratitude flood through you. Scott's hand was still wrapped around yours, his grip a comforting anchor in a stormy sea of emotions. You watched, frozen, as he faced down the person who had just humiliated you. His eyes were like steel, and you could see the muscles in his jaw tensing.

"Apologize." he demanded, his voice a low growl that sent a shiver down the cheerleader's spine. The air around them crackled with tension, and the crowd held their breath, waiting for her response. She looked from Scott to you, then back again, her expression a mix of surprise and something akin to fear.

Her grip on the jersey tightened for a brief moment before she realized she was outmatched. She peeled it off her shoulders, the fabric sliding down her arms like a shed skin. She held it out to you, her head bowed. "I'm sorry," she mumbled, the words barely audible over the murmurs of the watching students.

You took it back, your hands trembling. You didn't know how to feel, torn between anger and relief. Scott's hand didn't leave yours, and he gave it a gentle squeeze. "It's okay," he murmured. "You’re okay.”

And just like that, the moment was over. The crowd dispersed, and Scott led you away from the field and into the dimly lit school hallway, his hand still entwined with yours. The echo of his footsteps seemed to bounce off the lockers as he pulled you into an empty office. The door slammed shut behind you, and before you could process what was happening, he had you bent over the desk, the jersey pooling around your waist.

You gasped as he entered you, his hands firmly on your stomach, pushing you back onto his thick cock. The sound of your skin slapping against his filled the room, punctuated by your muffled moans. You had never been so turned on by a display of dominance, the way he had claimed you in front of everyone, the way he had made it clear that you were his. The smell of sweat and desire mingled with the dusty scent of old textbooks and stale air conditioning.

Scott's rhythm grew more intense, his grip tightening as he watched his cock disappear into your tight pussy. You could feel every inch of him, the head of his dick brushing against your g-spot with each thrust. Your eyes rolled back, and you bit your bottom lip to keep from screaming out his name. The desk beneath you creaked and groaned with the force of your passion, a testament to the power of your love.

As his hands slid up to your stomach, he felt the unmistakable imprint of his cock, the deep indentation it left as it claimed you. The sensation sent a new wave of desire crashing through him, and he began to fuck you harder, his hips slamming into yours with a ferocity that left you trembling. The feeling of his dominance was intoxicating, and you found yourself pushing back into him, eager for more.

He leaned over you, his breath hot against your neck as he whispered sweet nothings into your ear. "You're so tight," he murmured, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through your body. "Like a glove made for my cock." Each word sent a shiver down your spine, and you felt your pussy clench around him, begging for more. You could feel your orgasm building, a delicious pressure that grew with each of his movements.

Scott's words grew more urgent, his breathing ragged as he lost himself in the moment. "You're perfect," he groaned, his voice a mix of wonder and possession. "Made for me." His grip on your hips tightened, and he pushed deeper into you, filling you completely. The sound of your wetness was a symphony in the quiet room, a testament to how much he turned you on. You bit down harder on your lip, the pain mixing with pleasure, creating a heady cocktail that made your head spin.

You put your hands on your stomach, to feel the imprint of his cock for yourself as it stretched and filled you. It was a strange sensation, one you had never experienced before, but it sent a thrill through you. You whimpered again, the sound a silent plea for more. Without thinking, you reached back and grabbed his hand, guiding it back to the spot where his cock was buried deep within you. He responded “I know baby.. i know.” he whimpered in your ear, before a wicked smile spread across his face.

Scott took your hand in his and placed it back on your stomach, his own large hand covering yours. He began to move it in time with his thrusts, showing you the power and intensity of your union. The sight of your hand moving with the rhythm of his hips was erotic, and you could feel yourself getting wetter with each movement. His eyes never left yours in the mirror, a silent communication passing between you that needed no words.

You were so close, the tension coiling tighter and tighter in your core. With each stroke, his cock hit that spot inside you that sent sparks flying through your body. You felt like you were teetering on the edge of something incredible, something that would consume you whole. And then he whispered it, the words like a dark spell. "I want you to cum all over my pretty cock."

The words sent a jolt of electricity through your body, and you felt yourself tighten around him, the walls of your pussy clamping down like a vice. You moaned, the sound echoing through the empty room as you gave yourself over to the feeling. His thrusts grew harder, more urgent, and you could feel him swelling inside you. It was like he was trying to reach deeper, to claim every inch of you. And then you did it, you let go.

Your orgasm crashed over you like a wave, drowning out the world. Your body convulsed, your muscles spasming as you came all over Scott's cock. The sensation was so intense, you thought you might pass out. You felt him tense, his grip on your hips almost painful as he buried himself deeper inside you. And then he was cumming, too.

His warmth flooded into you, filling you up in a way that was almost overwhelming. He groaned, his head thrown back as he emptied himself into your pulsating pussy. His cock jerked and spurted, painting the insides of your gummy walls with his release. It was like experiencing a live porn scene, but it was happening to you, and it was the most erotic thing you had ever experienced. You felt like you were the star of the show, and Scott was your devoted audience of one.

A/N: this is my second time writing, reblogs are appreciated!! thank you for reading<3

[skywlkrhoney]

A night with a stranger

James Kelly x Fem!reader

Warnings: reader smokes and drinks beer, age gap (reader is 19 and james is 35), problems with parents slightly mentioned (don't go out with strange men on the street guys)

Author's notes: amazingly, this is purely fluff.

My back was pressed against the worn-down wall of the small neighborhood convenience store. Between the fingers of my right hand, a Marlboro Light burned slowly, releasing a pale smoke that danced lazily in the cold evening air.

The end of the day brought a paler sky, all soft tones, and the chilly wind whipped against my bare legs. I was wearing nothing but a pair of short, frayed denim shorts and a strapless white top with lace trim. My red Converse were beaten up, their best days long gone.

I took a drag off my cigarette, feeling the smoke fill my lungs with a bitter sort of relief, then exhaled slowly through my mouth. I looked around. Everything was quiet. No cars, no kids, no noise. It felt like the whole town had gone to sleep. Silence.

I dragged again, pulling in more smoke. That’s when I saw it — a black Cadillac pulling up right in front of the store. Old-school, impressive. The engine hummed low as the guy climbed out. Tall, messy black hair, wearing a worn black t-shirt. Tattoos covered his hands. Way too good-looking for a place like this

He walked around the car and headed straight for the store. Just before he went inside, he lifted his head — and looked right at me. Quick, but enough to make my heart stutter.

I stayed put, pretending not to think too hard. Alone again, waiting for something I couldn’t quite name.

A few minutes later, he came back out, carrying a case of beer in one hand and a fresh pack of cigarettes in the other. I watched him, slow and steady, as he opened the passenger door and set the beer inside with a practiced ease. Then he shut the door with a soft click and leaned back against the car like that crummy little spot was the best view in the whole town.

He pulled a cigarette from the new pack and placed it between his lips, then patted down his jeans, searching his front pockets, then the back. He mumbled something I couldn’t catch, and then, clear enough to reach me, he muttered:

“Shit.”

I lowered my cigarette and looked at him.

“Looking for a lighter?” I asked, my voice stronger than I expected.

He lifted his gaze slowly, sizing me up with a certain kind of carefulness. His blue eyes skimmed from my legs to my face and locked with mine for a second that felt longer than it should have.

“Yeah,” he rasped out, his voice low and rough.

I reached into the back pocket of my shorts and pulled out a red lighter, stretching my hand toward him. He pushed off the car and walked over, slow and steady. When he got close enough, he took the lighter from my hand — his fingers brushing against mine. He flicked the lighter, lit his cigarette, and took a drag, never taking his eyes off me.

“So,” he said, smoke curling from his lips, “what’s a pretty little thing like you doing out here all alone?”

I shrugged, taking another pull from my own cigarette.

“Got bored at home.”

He nodded once.

“Wanna beer?” he offered, tipping his chin toward the car.

I hesitated for half a second, then shrugged. “Why not?”

He turned back toward the Cadillac, popped open the door, shoved the case of beers into the backseat with one hand, and cracked one open. He held it out toward me.

I walked up, took it from him, and took a sip, feeling the cold bitterness coat my tongue. I leaned against his car, the cool metal pressing against my bare skin.

“Nice car. Vintage,” I said with a crooked little smile, glancing sideways at him.

He let out a quick breath of a laugh.

“Yeah. She’s taken me to some interesting places,” he said, dragging on his cigarette, that amused look never leaving his face. “You wanna go for a ride?”

The question hung in the air, somewhere between reckless and tempting. I thought about it for a moment. Accepting a ride from a stranger wasn’t exactly the smartest move. But there was something about him… a dangerous calm, a rugged kind of safety that made me think, maybe just for one night, it was okay to break the rules.

“Sure,” I said, taking another sip of beer and flicking my cigarette to the ground, stamping it out with my shoe. My heart was beating faster now.

He opened the passenger door for me, tossing the beer case into the backseat with a careless kind of ease, then stepped aside to let me in.

“Your chariot, princess,” he said, smirking in a way that was teasing but never disrespectful.

I laughed, feeling my stomach flip at the nickname, and climbed inside, running my hand over the cracked leather seats, breathing in the scent of cigarettes, gasoline, and something else that was just… him. I shut the door behind me and watched him round the front of the car, tossing his cigarette to the ground and crushing it beneath his boot before getting in on the driver’s side.

He turned the key, and the Cadillac rumbled to life, like a beast waking up.

Without looking at me, he smiled slightly.

“Hope you’re not on a curfew.”

I smiled back, settling into my seat, beer still in hand.

“Tonight’s wide open.”

And just like that, the Cadillac rolled down the empty road, leaving the dead-silent town behind us.

The car cut through the night like an arrow. Outside, the trees blurred into shadows against the dark sky. I leaned against the window, the cold wind whipping through my hair and sending shivers across my skin.

For a while, we didn’t say anything. Only the sound of the engine filled the space between us. It was the kind of silence that felt right.

“So…” I finally said, turning my face a little toward him. “What do you do for a living?”

He kept his eyes on the road, a lazy smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“I work at a garage. Spend all day covered in grease, trying to bring old junkers back to life.”

“Fits you,” I said, smiling a little.

He let out a low chuckle, still focused on the road.

“What about you? How old are you?” he asked, glancing over at me briefly.

“Nineteen,” I answered, flipping my hair over my shoulder and shifting in my seat.

I leaned forward, reaching for the old radio. I turned the dial slowly, passing through stations full of static, until a familiar song came through — “Come On” by Letters To Cleo. I smiled, satisfied, and leaned back again.

This time, I shifted completely, turning sideways and resting my back against the door, stretching my legs out across his lap, my beer can still dangling from my fingers.

James glanced at me from the corner of his eye, a small smirk playing on his lips. He pulled one hand off the wheel and set it casually on my leg, his thumb drawing slow, lazy circles against my skin. A shiver ran up my spine, but I didn’t pull away.

I closed my eyes for a second, feeling the easy rhythm of the road and the cool night air.

“So where are we headed?” I asked, my voice a little softer now.

“There’s this diner out past town,” he said, voice rough and calm. “Small place, but they make the best milkshakes you’ll ever have.”

I nodded, relaxing even more, resting my head lightly against the window as the car rolled on.

A few minutes later, we saw the lights of the diner flickering in the distance. A worn-out neon sign buzzed and blinked, half-lit, casting a ghostly glow over the old building.

James pulled into the lot and parked out front. I straightened up, pulling my legs off his lap, and pushed the door open, the night air rushing in.

We got out together, James shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

“Used to come here with my brother,” he said, glancing at the entrance.

I turned to him, curious.

“You have siblings?”

He nodded.

“Yeah. Just one,” he said, voice a little more guarded.

“And you?” he asked, steering the conversation back to me. “Got any brothers or sisters?”

“Nope.” I smiled a little. “Only child.”

“Must be nice. Having everything to yourself.”

I laughed softly, shaking my head.

“Not always,” I said, staring at the ground for a second. “It gets lonely sometimes.”

James didn’t say anything. He just looked at me for a long moment.

When we reached the door, he stepped ahead and opened it for me with a slight nod.

Before walking in, I spotted an old, rusted trash can beside the door. I shook the beer can — just a swallow left — and tossed it inside, hearing the hollow clang at the bottom.

James waited, patient, that small smile still playing on his lips, watching me.

Inside, the diner smelled like burgers, fries, and old coffee. The place looked like it was stuck in the ‘50s — red vinyl booths, white Formica tables, a jukebox humming in the corner. Time hadn’t touched this place.

We slid into a booth near the back, away from the jukebox and the few scattered customers.

An old man in a stained apron shuffled over to take our order. James asked for fries and a Coke. When he turned to me, I ordered a strawberry milkshake with a shy smile.

Once the old man shuffled away, James leaned back in his seat, looking at me with a relaxed gaze.

“Your parents aren’t gonna be worried about you being out this late?” he asked.

I shrugged, looking out the window.

“No,” I said quietly. “They don’t really care.”

James frowned, his jaw tightening slightly.

“With all due respect… your parents sound like assholes.”

I laughed, genuinely caught off guard.

“You’re not wrong,” I said, shaking my head with a real smile. “But I’m used to it. It’s not a big deal.”

We kept talking — light stuff. The kind of easy conversation that feels like it’s always been there.

Soon, the old man came back with a tray — fries, Coke, and a bright pink milkshake. We thanked him and dug in, stealing glances at each other between sips and bites.

Time slipped by quickly. Before I knew it, the plates were empty, and so was my milkshake.

We paid the check and headed back outside into the cold night air. James looked at me with that easy smirk again.

“So, what’d you think?” he asked as we walked toward the car.

“I loved it,” I said honestly, crossing my arms against the chill.

He opened the passenger door for me again, and just as I was about to climb in, he slipped a hand lightly around my waist — the touch firm but soft, sending butterflies loose in my stomach. My cheeks burned instantly.

I bit my lip, trying to hide a smile, and slid into the seat.

We drove in a comfortable silence back toward my house. When we pulled up, the lights inside were all out.

“They’re probably already asleep,” I said, looking at the dark windows.

When I turned back to him, James was already watching me — that intense, almost hypnotic look in his eyes.

I gave him a shy smile.

“I’m glad I met you tonight,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “Way better than sitting outside that convenience store all night.”

He let out a rough laugh.

“If you ever get bored again…” he said, eyes still locked on mine, “you know where to find me.”

I laughed softly, my heart hammering.

We stared at each other for a long moment. Then, I leaned across the seat, closing the gap.

I kissed him first — soft and tentative. James didn’t hesitate. He grabbed my waist, pulling me closer, deepening the kiss. It was intense and hot, and I let out a small, helpless sound against his mouth. My fingers clutched at his arm, feeling the muscle flex under my touch.

We finally pulled apart, still breathing hard. I pressed one last kiss to his lips, smiling against his mouth before pulling away.

I climbed out of the car, still feeling lightheaded, and made my way to the front door, turning to look back one last time.

James was still there, watching me, smiling.

He gave a slow wave, and I waved back before slipping inside.

I closed the door carefully behind me and leaned against it, breathing deeply. I tiptoed down the hallway to my bedroom, careful not to wake anyone.

Once inside, I kicked off my old Converse and collapsed onto my bed, my heart still racing.

With a goofy smile on my face, I thought about him.

And I hoped I’d see him again.

[zapernz]

thigh riding James but he’s soft dom🤨🙏

eating up these james requests

“james- i” your sentence gets cut into a moan as james starts bouncing his leg to match the timing of you grinding down onto his muscular thigh. his hands stay at your hips encouraging the movement, “sayin’ something?” he grins to himself as the top of your body collapses onto his, you whine in frustration “james i need you- i can’t” you softly shake your head. you wanted him, not to rub off on his thigh.

he brushes a piece of your hair behind your ear, “yes you can you gotta earn it, right baby?” he reminds you kissing the top of your head. you nod clinging onto his shirt, “now if you cum f’me like this i’ll let you cum on my cock, how’s that sound?”

[hearts4sammonroe]

JAMES KELLY fixing our pinky vintage car for the forth time this month...and its always the same problem, and he swears hes about to buy a new car for us cus the one we have is too barbie-ish and is a trash...

- claiming myself as a 🐇 anon now 🙂‍↕️

pairing: james kelly x f!reader

contains: fluff (?)

a/n: okay yay bunny anon 😛 also I am not educated on cars so let’s just hope this makes sense LMAOOOO also SUPER short drabble I’m sorry ☹️

divider credit: @fairytopea

James Kelly was fixing your car for the fourth this month. Yes, the fourth. It’s that damn transmission.

“What even happened this time?” James Kelly asks while grabbing a tool.

“It was making this loud clicking noise then suddenly my car is messed up again.” You shrug.

“Same thing as the last three times.” James huffs. “Y’know, you really just need a new car.”

“No, I don’t! Just need a new transmission.” You argue. “No, you need something that ain’t a damn barbie car. It’s a piece of trash.” Okay that was just rude.

“A Barbie car?” You scoff.

“Mm-hm. I’m gonna get you a new one if it messes up again. You don’t need this Barbie car.”

“And how do you know so much about Barbie cars? You into Barbies?”

“… hell no. This car is just old and all pink and… I’m not into Barbie’s.”

taglist: @anakinstwinklebunny @haydenismyman @anisangeldust @cassielunaaa @madsluvsdilfs @mvst4far

[speaknow-sw]

𝓨𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓫𝓪𝓫𝔂

Summary : The backseat of James car seems like a good place to lose your virginity.

Word Count : 1.8k

Ｃｏｎｔｅｎｔ: mdni, age gap, James is 33 reader is 18, lost of virginity, first time, nipple sucking, car sex, kissing, PiV, clit toying, inappropriate use of lipstick.

AN : Okay so…I’m obsessed with Diet Pepsi by Addison Rae annnnnd I decided to give it his one-shot with the man of the year : James Kelly. Enjoy lovelies cuz this one sucks.

The night is warm, the air thick with summer heat as you slip into James Kelly’s car, your breath hitching in your throat. He’s behind the wheel, his grip firm, the glint of his cross gold chain catching the dim streetlight as he turns to look at you. His eyes linger, dark and heavy, on the curve of your body wrapped in those ripped blue jeans he can’t stop staring at.

“He’s a keeper,” you think, catching your own reflection in the window as you pull down the mirror to check your lipstick. But it’s his cross you see, a reminder of the tension that crackles between the two of you, the contrast of sin and sanctity making your heart race.

He notices, and a slow smile spreads across his face, one that tells you he knows exactly what he’s doing to you. “You look good,” he says, his voice a low rumble, one that makes your stomach flip.

You feel his gaze slide down your body, resting on your legs, and you shift slightly, aware of every inch of space between you. You know what he’s thinking; he’s told you before, late at night, in the kind of whispers that aren’t meant to be shared but somehow always are when it’s just the two of you. “Those jeans,” he murmurs, “make your ass look incredible.”

You blush, your cheeks red like cherries in the spring, and he reaches out, his hand brushing against your thigh. The touch is electric, sending a shiver up your spine as you close your eyes, trying to steady your breathing. He pulls his hand back, resting it on the gearshift, but the heat of his touch lingers on your skin.

“Let’s get out of here baby,” he says, turning the key in the ignition. The engine roars to life, the vibrations pulsing through your body as you buckle your seatbelt, feeling a knot tighten in your stomach.

As he drives, you can’t help but steal glances at him, at the way his hands grip the wheel, the muscles in his arms flexing with each turn. The city lights blur outside the window, and you lose track of time, of place, of everything but the way he makes you feel—alive, reckless, untamed.

When he finally pulls into an empty parking lot, the silence is deafening. He turns off the car, and for a moment, neither of you moves. The air between you is thick, heavy with unspoken words, and you can feel the heat of his body even though you’re not touching.

Then, without a word, he reaches for you, pulling you into his lap. The suddenness of it makes you gasp, but you don’t resist. You can’t. His hands are on your hips, guiding you, and you feel a rush of warmth spread through you as you settle against him.

“James…” you whisper, but he cuts you off with a kiss, his lips claiming yours with a hunger that takes your breath away. You can taste the Pepsi on his lips, the sweetness mixed with something darker, something that makes you dizzy.

His hands slide up your back, under your shirt, and you arch into him, your body responding to his touch with a need that surprises you. This is new territory, uncharted, and yet it feels like you’ve been here before, like you’ve always known this is where you’d end up—with him, in this car, losing yourself in the heat of the moment.

He pulls back, just enough to look at you, his eyes dark with desire. “Say you love me,” he whispers, his voice rough, desperate.

“I love you,” you breathe, the words spilling out of you before you can think, before you can second-guess. And as soon as you say it, you know it’s true. You do love him—this wild, reckless love that makes you feel like you’re on the edge of something dangerous, something you can’t pull back from even if you wanted to.

His smile is like a drug, intoxicating and addictive, and he kisses you again, deeper this time, his hands sliding down to grip your thighs. You can feel the heat of his breath against your skin, the way his fingers dig into you, grounding you even as you feel like you’re floating, weightless.

James' hands roamed up your body, pulling your shirt over your head, leaving you in just your bra and jeans. He leaned in, his lips trailing kisses down your neck, his stubble scraping against your sensitive skin. You let out a soft moan, your body arching towards him, craving more of his touch.

He pulled back, his eyes dark with lust as he admired your body, taking it all in. The tenderness of his gaze belied the animalistic hunger that consumed him. He reached for the clasp of your bra, fumbling with it for a brief moment before releasing your breasts from their confines.

He took one nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it, sucking gently before moving to the other. You gasped, your hands tangling in his hair, pulling him closer. His other hand slid down your body, unzipping your jeans as he fumbled with the button.

He pushed your jeans and panties down your legs, helping you to slide them off, leaving you completely naked in the dimly lit car. He admired you for a moment, his eyes drinking in every curve and dip.

Your breath caught in her throat as James's skilled fingers found your slick heat, parting your folds with ease. You writhed beneath his touch, your body writhing in wanton need. Your head rolled back against the seat, your eyes closed, drowning in the sensations that crashed over you like waves.

James's thumb found your clit, rubbing it in slow circles, and you let out a moan, a low, guttural sound that seemed to reverberate through the car. Your hips bucked against his hand, each movement seeking more, begging for the release you’d never known.

He leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, "Do you want me to make you come, dollface?"

You nodded, your voice caught in her throat, the only response your body could muster.

James continued his assault on your senses, his thumb relentless, his fingers delving deeper into your core. Your body arched, nails digging into the leather seat as you fought to stay grounded, to stay tethered to reality.

With a slick motion, James's hand withdrew, leaving you panting, eyes fluttering open. He quickly unbuckled his belt and shoved his jeans down, his erection springing free, hard and throbbing. Your eyes widened at the sight of him, your body humming with anticipation.

As James buries himself inside you, you can't help but gasp at the fullness, the warmth, the sensation of being filled. It hurts but it’s so good, so right…Your eyes meet his, your pupils dilating in the low light, and you feel a sudden, intense connection between the two of you.

He withdraws almost entirely, leaving you quivering and needy, before plunging back into you. The pace is slow, deliberate, as if he's savoring the moment as much as you are. Your body feels like it's on fire, every nerve ending alive and tingling.

He leans in, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, "You feel incredible, you know that, doll?" His fingers dig into your hips, gripping you tightly.

You nod, your breath hitching in your throat, lost in the sensations and the intensity of the moment. James starts to move faster, his thrusts deep and powerful, leaving you breathless, your moans growing louder, more desperate. "Huh…such a pretty little sight, gonna keep you around my cock like the lil’ sweetheart you are, huh baby ? Lemme take care of you, i’m older, wiser, experienced, I can give you everythin’ my sweet girl…"He grunted manly and your walls clenched against him as you moaned loudly.

You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer, wanting to feel every inch of him. His hands roam over your body, leaving trails of fire wherever they touch. He cups your breast, his thumb teasing your nipple, and you arch into his hand, your body hungry for more.

He leans down, his lips capturing your mouth in a searing kiss, his tongue dancing with yours as he continues to thrust into you. The rhythm is hypnotic, pulling you deeper into the sensations, the pleasure building within you like a crescendo.

You feel his hand slip between your legs, his fingers trailing over your clit, teasing you mercilessly. The combination of his touch, his grunts and his thrusts is too much, pushing you over the edge. You cry out, your body convulsing as you shatter, the pleasure crashing over you like a wave.

James doesn't stop, his thrusts growing harder, more determined, as he continues to pound into you. You feel him tense, his body shuddering as he releases into you, the warmth of his release filling you completely.

The windows fog up as you lose yourself in him, in the way he makes you feel like you’re the only thing that matters in the world. It’s a blur of sensation, of lips and hands and heat, and you let go, surrendering to the moment, to him.

You can’t tell where he ends and you begin, the two of you intertwined in a tangle of limbs and breathless moans. And when it’s over, when the car is filled with the scent of sweat and something sweeter, you collapse against him, your heart racing.

He tilts your chin up, looking at you with a kind of awe, like he can’t believe you’re real. “You’re mine, my girl,” he says, his voice soft, possessive.

“Yours,” you agree, because it’s true. You’ve always been his, even before you knew it.

With a wicked grin, you reach into your bag and pull out your lipstick, the sweet pink shade that always makes you feel calm, warm. His breath hitches as you twist the tube, the scent of cherries filling the air. Leaning in, you press the tip of the lipstick to his chest, just above his heart, and slowly, deliberately, you begin to scrawl your name across his skin. Each letter is a claim, a promise, the pink pigment leaving a vivid trail that stands out stark against his tanned skin. You can feel his heartbeat quicken beneath your fingertips, and you smile, satisfied, as you finish the last stroke. Stepping back, you admire your handiwork, your name emblazoned on him like a brand, a reminder that he’s yours, marked in a way that no one else ever will be.

“Let’s go, sweets” he says finally, but there’s no rush in his voice, no urgency. You know you have all the time in the world—time to break all the rules, to get caught, to fall deeper into this wild love that’s taken hold of you both.

And as you drive away, the city lights blurring into the distance, you can’t help but smile, knowing that you’re his baby, his everything, and that this is just the start of something unforgettable.

[awhhayden]

CONTAINS : age gap 20+, dilf!hayden, fluff, anxiety/panic attack, short story

SUMMARY : Hayden wakes up from a nightmare, his anxieties weighing down on your relationship.

Hayden stirs beside you, the peaceful rhythm of sleep abruptly shattered as he shoots upright, fear flickering across his features. A cold sweat glistens on his chest and neck, his breath coming in frantic gasps as another nightmare haunts his consciousness.

For the past week, the same chilling dream has plagued him, each one a manifestation of the simmering anxieties about your relationship. With you just stepping into your 23rd year and him carrying the weight of 43, the whispers of the world loom large, as if the media’s scrutiny could unravel the delicate threads of what you both share.

Each day, he finds himself on high alert, bracing for the latest wave of cruel commentary about your love—the love that defies conventional norms but thrives in its authenticity. Hayden positions himself as a shield between you and the relentless barrage of judgment, yet deep down, he knows the sting of those words reaches you, drawing a painful line back to him.

Guilt tugs at his heart, knowing that these dark reflections are a consequence of his existence in your life, and he longs for a way to silence the storm that rages endlessly in his mind.

He turns and gazes at you, a soft contrast to the panic in his chest. Your hair spills like silk across the pillow, catching the soft glow of the moonlight that dances through the window. Each rise and fall of your chest is a tender symphony, a rhythm that lulls him into a deeper calm.

With a gentle smile, he lays back on his side and wraps his strong arm around your waist, pulling you closer into his warmth. The sweet scent of your strawberry shampoo envelops him, a fragrant reminder that you are all he needs.

You stir slightly, your voice a soft murmur in the quiet of the room. "Mmm, you okay?" Your eyes flutter open just enough to glimpse the worry etched on his face, and he smiles, leaning into the fragrant softness of your hair. "Now I am," he whispers, his words a soft caress that fills the space between you with a warm intimacy, as if the world outside has faded away, leaving only the two of you as his anxieties melt away into oblivion.

He feels the heat radiating from your body and leans in closer, letting the moment deepen. The room is filled with a comfortable silence, punctuated only by the soft sound of your breathing. With each breath, he finds himself more anchored in the present, savoring this shared moment of peace that feels both timeless and sacred.

"Do you remember the first time we slept like this?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper. He recalls that night, when the stars overhead seemed to twinkle just for you two, a new chapter just unfolding.

You chuckle softly, eyes still heavy with sleep. "I think you were the one who ended up stealing all the blankets," you tease, a playful smile dancing on your lips.

He smirks, nudging you playfully. "Guilty as charged." A moment of laughter passes between you, a thread of shared memories that wraps around you in warmth. Beneath that playful exchange, a deeper truth lingers in the air—an unspoken understanding of each other, grounded in genuine affection.

You shift slightly, nestling into his embrace, and he tightens his hold instinctively, as if afraid to let go. The soft rhythm of your breaths intertwining sets a peaceful cadence. “What are you thinking about?” you ask, curiosity sparking your gaze as you finally meet his eyes.

He hesitates for a moment, his brow furrowing slightly. “Yeah, it’s just…” He takes a deep breath, struggling to find the right words. “Sometimes I worry about the age gap between us. I mean, I know it’s not the worst difference, but still…” You frown slightly, propping yourself up on one elbow, giving him your full attention. “What do you mean?”

He sighs, running a hand through his hair, his gaze drifting toward the moonlight spilling through the window. “With me being in the public eye, everyone seems to have an opinion about everything. I can imagine the headlines, the gossip… it worries me. I don’t want to be that guy who’s dating someone significantly younger. I don’t want it to look like I’m… I don’t know, taking advantage of that.”

Your heart sinks a little at his unease, seeing the vulnerability etched in his features. “You’re not taking advantage of anything. We’re not like that. We have something real here.”

“I know that,” he replies, looking back into your eyes with sincerity. “But the media spins things. I've seen it happen to friends, people in the industry facing scrutiny just for their choices in relationships. I don’t want to subject you to that kind of negativity. You don’t deserve it.”

“You can’t control how others see us,” you say gently, brushing your fingers across his cheek. “What matters is how we see each other. You mean the world to me, and I don’t care about the age gap or what people think.”

He listens, but the concern doesn’t entirely vanish from his eyes. “You say that now, but what if it becomes a burden in the future? What if the attention—both good and bad—pulls us apart instead of bringing us closer?”

“If it’s meant to be, we’ll find a way to make it work,” you reply, your voice steady and unwavering. “And if we do hit bumps along the way, we’ll face them together. Love isn’t about age or public perception; it’s about trust, respect, and the connection we’ve built.”

He smiles softly at your words, grateful yet still clouded by his worries. ��You make it sound so simple. I just don’t want to risk losing what we have because of outside noise.”

You take a moment, gathering your thoughts, before responding. “I’m not naive. I know the world can be harsh. But I also believe that if we’re strong in our bond, we can withstand anything. Our relationship doesn’t have to be defined by the age gap—or by the spotlight you’re in.”

He studies you intently, his brows slightly relaxed as he absorbs your words. “You really believe that?” He probes, searching your face for reassurance.

“I do,” you affirm, leaning closer, grounding him with your presence. “Each day with you just feels right. It’s not about the years; it’s about how well we fit together and how we support each other”

A soft chuckle escapes him, his tension easing slightly. “In all my life, I’ve never met someone quite like you,” he admits. “You’re a breath of fresh air, you keep me young” he jokes.

You smile at that, feeling a wave of warmth wash over you. “I’m glad I can be someone who brings you comfort. Just remember, I want this, I want you” you say softly. He reaches for your hand, intertwining your fingers as he gives a light squeeze. “Thank you for being you. For standing by me. I just want to protect what we have.”

“Then let’s protect it together,” you say, resolute. “I love you” you whisper, he smiles

As you settle back into his embrace, the weight of his worries lingers in the air but feels lighter now, softened by the understanding between you. Together, you drift into a shared silence, sleep finally weighing down on Hayden’s eyes, you fall back asleep together, a newfound understanding and the sound of the wind in the air.

a little story while I work on a chapter two of my james kelly fic! also still adding to my taglist so lmk if you want to be added! <3

taglist : @bimbo-baggins17 @malinadbbdh @speaknow-sw @haydensheartt @inlovewithdob @fredswrite

[akixxrafiiy]

deciding to post this on tumblr, because on tiktok it flopped so bad😣🙏🙏

[xzaddyzanakinx]

Not That Kind of Guy

Part Twenty: Stalker!Anakin Skywalker x femme reader series

Warnings: stalking, weirdo behavior, psychotic/delusional behavior, possessive/protective, sexism/misogyny, sexual content/fantasizing, pervy behavior, panty/scent kink, mask kink(Ghostface), gaslighting/manipulation, public/semi-public, spitting, cumplay, nude vids/pics, masturbation, oral, PIV, dick piercing, forced orgasm, bondage/blindfolds, biting/slapping/ spanking/cutting, rape kink, NONCON/DUBCON/CNC, Somno, blood, knife, GEN. SMUT, [All possible tags listed, all may not apply] GORE, MURDER

Info: Aw ur having such a cute dinner party... wtf is that?? [diary entries from Ani] extremely not proofread. MDNI 18+

”Jesus Anakin, what happened?” You gasped, seeing the damaged door of his car as he walked you toward it. You crouched down and touched the big scrape, feeling the dented and scratch metal beneath your fingertips with a wince as you turned to look up at him, you were surprised to see a little smile on his face when you’d expected one of annoyance or anger.

”Some little girl backed into it.” He snickered, giving you a hand up from your squatted position. “Looks like there are worse drivers than you out in the world. Makes me shudder to think about.” He dramatically shivered, opening up your car door for you and guiding you into your seat with a hand on your ass.

”Was she alright?” You asked, eyebrows furrowed when he plopped himself down in the drivers seat and slammed the door shut. 

“Yeah, it was a stationary accident. She was fine, just real upset.” He sighed, running a hand through his hair before starting the car and reaching over to put a hand on your thigh while he drove. “She had the tiniest dent and just a bit of paint on the bumper. Worried sick her momma would be mad about the insurance going up.”

”Oh poor thing.” You winced, knowing all too well the worry of something like that happening from experience.

”No, don’t ‘poor thing’ her.” He snorted, patting your thigh affectionately. “I told her to get some WD-40 and a magic eraser, it’ll fix it up and her mom won’t notice the dent for a while, its so small.” 

“Well what are you gonna do about your car?” You asked, feeling a strange mixture of pride in Anakin for taking care of the issue for the young girl and a dash of irritation that he’d be paying for the damage on his car when it wasn’t even his fault.

”Cliegg will take care of it.” Anakin shrugged, clearly unbothered by the whole situation.

”Really?” You raised an eyebrow in surprise, not realizing his stepfather had any auto-body experience.

”Yeah, we’ll buff the paint and pop the dent out, its no big deal doll.” He said reassuringly. Squeezing your knee as he drove the short distance back home. 

After arriving at your apartment you were pleasantly surprised to see that your entire apartment was spotless. The dishes were gone, the trash had been taken out, the floors vacuumed and mopped so well that you could catch a whiff of the faint scent of the cleaning solution he’d used. Even the basket of laundry had been emptied and put away. It was so nice to come home to a clean, fresh smelling home like this, you’d missed it so much more than you’d realized. 

It nearly made your heart ache. 

“Anakin you didn’t have to do all this.” You turned around, giving him an appreciative smile and swallowing the little lump in your throat that was trying to creep up and stop your breathing. 

“I know that princess,” He said softly, the corner of his mouth curving up into a smile. “I just thought you might be able to relax a little better if i took care of it for you.”

”Thank you for being so sweet.” You whispered, inching closer to him until you were able to rest your head against his chest and allow him to hold you close.

“Anything for you doll,” He murmured, pressing his lips to the crown of your head lovingly. “You’re all tense sweetheart.” 

Anakin rubbed your back, one hand cupping the base of your skull, his fingertips gently scratching your scalp. After a moment of standing there comforting you, he pulled back and stroked your cheek with his thumb. He sighed, smiling down at you like you’d hung the moon just for him, you couldn’t help but blush. It was an endearing quality of his, the ability to love you so thoroughly that he didn’t even have to speak the words aloud. It often made you wonder if you exuded that same warm feeling for him, you wanted him to feel it like you did. 

It was odd, how one minute you were so completely enraptured in Anakin’s presence and the next you were punching down every guilty feeling or idea threatening to interrupt those sweet little daydreams. It seemed nearly impossible to get through a single line of thought without being intercepted and hijacked. It made you not want to think at all, made you wonder what it would be like to feel nothing but a void in your soul, not the kind that ached, the kind that burned your stomach and clawed your throat. You wanted the kind that was far removed from emotion the kind of void that was blank, empty and cold.

“Sorry, I- I was just thinking about getting in the shower.” you leaned back to look up into his face before getting to extricate yourself from his embrace.

“Let me come with you?” Anakin murmured, not entirely a question but not really a demand either. “I’ve missed you.” 

“I missed you too.” You said quietly, you had missed him of course, but there was someone out there you missed more. Not due to lack of love for Anakin, simply because it had felt like years since you’d spoken to the hunter who owned you as prey.

“Yeah, c’mon Ani.” Your voice a soft tone, hoping he’d accept the sudden subdued moment between you as one of reined in lust, rather than one of longing for another.

Anakin didn’t seem to notice, too busy ushering you toward the bathroom while he was ripping his clothing off. Whipping his shirt off over his head so aggressively that you heard one of the stitches pop, soon followed by the clattering of his belt and soft thud of his jeans hitting the bathroom floor.

“Mm.” Anakin grunted in a pleased manner as he watched you undress and toss your clothes into the laundry basket. “I love that pretty little set.” 

He whistled low and lustful as he stepped forward to fully appreciate the delicate fabric of your matching bra and panties. The snug bra had a cute, innocently sexy quality to it, the white and pink lace contrasting beautifully with your skin, the panties nearly entirely see through in the best way.

Anakin couldn’t stop smiling as he guided his palms over the soft planes of your physique as if he were seeing it for the first time all over again. Pausing his rough fingertips at the center of your spine he flicked his tongue out against your bottom lip and down your cheek to lave at your neck as a public declaration in purple. Both hands left a fiery wake as they slipped beneath the band of your bra and popped the clasp loose.

“Never gets old.” He shook his head and whispered quietly. “Every time I fall in love all over again.” 

“Ani, n-not yet.” You stuttered as he started to drag his tongue across your chest, goosebumps cropping up over your flesh so rapidly that it startled you. “At least let me rinse off the restaurant stink!” You squealed as he grabbed you by the waist and lifted you into the shower.

”Brace yourself.” He giggled, turning on the water once you’d pulled the shower curtains closed. The water sprayed down cold upon your skin, making you gasp before it grew warmer. 

“Shit, that was colder than I thought it’d be.” He shivered, chilly hands caressing your stomach until he reached the pillowy softness of your breasts, rubbing his thumbs over your pebbled nipples. “Worth it.” He grinned.

”Fuck you.” Swatting at his hands in playful defiance when you realized he wasn’t just being impatient, he’d wanted you to get doused in freezing water for his own satisfaction.

”Nope.” He shook his head, wrapping his arms around your slowly warming body, his lips tickling the sensitive skin of your earlobe. “I’ll be fucking you.”

The gravelly undertone of his voice rippled across your flesh and wormed its way down the planes of your body until it ripped into the coil growing taut in your core. Just like that, quicker than a snap of the fingers, you were putty in his strong, tattooed hands. His lips trailed down your neck, nibbled across your collarbone, and traveled to your breasts. His mouth and hands took their time massaging and tasting your water slicked skin, his little teasing nibbles turning into harder, needier bites as he moaned and fell to his knees.

”You just stay right there and make those pretty noises for me.” He murmured, lifting one of your legs to hook over his shoulder before nuzzling into your cunt.

”Anakin,” panting already as you grasped at his damp hair. “Anakin just fuck me already, you’ve been teasing me since we stepped in here.” You whined, trying to pull his face away from the apex of your thighs. 

Anakin’s hands roamed up your stomach and he shifted his position to tilt you farther back into the corner of the shower. He kept one firmly anchored to your hip that rested on his shoulder, the other gripped your chin with his thumb, pinky and ring fingers holding you in place. His middle and pointer finger forcing their way between your lips and pressing down on your tongue to shut you up.

”I want what I want and I’ll have it.” He growled, nipping your clit before diving back in to continue his work. His tongue tirelessly lapping at your folds, waning every time you neared orgasm until he had you desperately mewling around his fingers, your hips bucking against his smiling face. ”Keep your hands behind your back or I’ll make you wait longer.” He murmured, holding back a chuckle.

“Please?” You slurred, drool pooling in the corner of your mouth as you gagged on his fingers, your hands itching to move and force him to stay where you wanted him.

”You wanna cum?” He rasped, looking up at you beneath his thick lashes while flicking his tongue back and forth as he awaited your answer. A thick, garbled moan and rapid nod confirmed what he already knew, making him snicker as he slowly rose up.

”Well, you’ll just have to wait.” He whispered, wiping his face on your breasts, planting a kiss on your sternum before turning you until the water pelted your back so you’d face him while he soaped up your body.

”You’re joking.” You squeaked, your chest heaving with each breath as you shivered under the soapy loofah, the rough netting setting your already sensitive skin ablaze. “You can’t just-“

”Oh yes I can.” He interrupted you, a devilish smirk gracing his lips. “You were the one who wanted to wait until after the shower right?”

”But not like this! That was before you tortured me!” You whined, angrily grabbing the shampoos bottle, eager to get out of the shower and into the bed.

”C’mon doll, don’t complain or I’ll make it so much worse.” Promising more than just teasing, Anakin was promising a world full of nothing for you and all pleasure for himself.

”I need you, in a bad way.” He mumbled, spinning you to face the shower head so he could take over scrubbing your scalp and carding the shampoo down your tangled strands of hair. “Been waiting for you all evening, its your turn to wait now.” He growled, pressing his hardened erection against your ass, slotting it between your thighs to rub the tip against your folds, his rough hands gripping the base of his cock as he groaned. 

“This is so mean.” You whimpered, tilting your hips backward and grinding back on him.

”You better quit.” He chuckled, samcking your hip lightly before making you turn your back to the stream of water once again to rinse the suds from your hair. 

You couldn’t help but stare down at his hard, throbbing length. It stood there so proudly, so thick and pretty, adorned with that shiny silver jewelry that you never knew you needed before him. In the span of time that he’d had you distracted just by existing, he’d rinsed out your hair and rinsed himself off as well, the masculine scent of his body wash clinging to the steam of the shower. 

“Time for bed?” You grinned, wiggling your eyebrows as he led you out the shower and onto the soft bath mat, wrapping you in a towel.

”Oh you’re sleepy?” He teased, struggling not to smirk. “Well, I suppose I could wait until t-“

”No! You know that’s not what I meant!” You scowled, grabbing his wrist and dragging him along behind you to the bedroom. 

“Moody little thing.” He mumbled under his breath just loud enough for you to hear. He used his free arm to pull you back against his chest, using your tight grip on his wrist to his advantage by twisting your arm behind your back. With that arm trapped between yourself and his chest, he leaned in closer, his plump lips brushing against you ear. “I believe we’ve discussed this before. Do. Not. Raise. Your. Voice. At. Me.” 

Each word was punctuated with a pause that seemed louder than the words themselves. You’d heard that phrase. Heard it enunciated identically to this. The only difference between then and now is the person. 

“What did you just say to me?” You whispered, the warmth of your cheeks, flushed from arousal turned icy cold and pallid within milliseconds.

”I said not to raise your voice at me babydoll.” Anakin said sweetly, kissing your neck chastely before releasing you from his firm grasp, spinning you out of his hold as if on the dance floor. “It’s rude.” He chuckled, backing you up to the bed.

“Right.” You tried to swallow but it seemed as if you had temporarily lost that ability, “You’re right. I’m sorry.” 

You were startled, the aggressive embrace, the sudden change of tone, the familiar dialogue… that’s all it was. Familiar dialogue. Anakin was always a stickler for behavior, it wasn’t the first time you’d been chided by him over something small and it wouldn’t be the last. Anakin is aggressive sometimes too, this is fine.

“Atta girl.” Anakin chuckled, grabbing your chin in one hand, bringing your face closer to his for a slow, tender kiss. “I love it when you listen.” He murmured against your lips. 

“Doing my best.” You laughed uncomfortably, turning your head to the side to avoid his eyes.

”Aww, feeling shy?” He teased, stepping closer until you were forced to bend backward in order to look up into his face. 

Anakin cupped the back of your head in his large palm, using his free hand to hike one leg up over his hip. His tongue starting in the dip at the base of your throat, swiping side to side in a sidewinder fashion until he reached your jaw. The tip of his tongue traced the underside of your jaw lightly, traveling up the shell of your ear and ending with his teeth nibbling your earlobe. 

The sensation left behind was a cold flamed fire that spread from your flesh and began to seep deep into the marrow of your bones. 

“Shy?” You repeated in a whisper, having trouble forming a straight line of thought. Your brain felt off-kilter, like a switchboard operator had plugged all the cords in wrong. 

“Oh, poor thing.” He snickered, pushing you down gently. “You sound kinda stupid. Maybe just let me do the talking for now okay?” 

“S-sure.” You nodded, frowning slightly before one of his massive hands clamped down over your mouth.

”Good girl.” He grinned, pushing down on your stomach with his other hands laying flat, splaying his fingers to almost fully cover you abdomen. “Now lets see how long you can stay quiet.”

Diary Entry: October 14th

I love you. I love you so much. But I love that deer in the headlights  look on your face when I stitch your two worlds together even more. Why won’t you just admit it to yourself? Why do you continue to torture yourself like this? It’s baffling.  You’re sleeping beside me right now, if you could even consider what you’re doing to be sleep. Whimpering and mumbling in a  ‘being chased by a monster In your dreams’ kind of way. I’ve tried petting you, playing with your hair and even talking quietly. The only thing that seemed to work was  when I started to doodle in my notebook, maybe somewhere in the back of your mind you associate the sound of pencil on paper with safety. The brain is so weird in that way.  How is it that you couldn’t ever hear me break in and roam around your apartment but you could hear me sit in the floor with your cat in my lap and write in my journal? At this point I think even taking off my mask right in front of you wouldn’t convince you to see the truth.  What excuses are you giving yourself now?  What excuse are you going to come up with after you find out what I’ve done? 

Diary Entry: October 14th

I’m glad I kept the hall camera up. I’m glad I still check it, I’m glad I still have all the previous footage.   Lacey is a liar. 

October 15th

”Oh god, that’s just…” Luke gasped, the color in his cheeks draining clean to the floor beneath his as he stared at the tv in his living room. 

“Why the hell do they put crime scene photos like that on the damn news? Jesus.” Han said, whipping his hand out to the side to cover Luke’s face, knowing how squeamish he was compared to the average person. The photo didn’t reveal much at all, just a blurred figure sitting upright behind a counter.

“It’s the news Han, it’s not supposed to be puppies and rainbows.” Anakin said flatly, shutting the fridge door with two beer bottles in his hand, holding them by the neck and bringing them down on his knee. The first cap popped off easily and he caught it with his free hand, shifting the bottles slightly, he brought them down on his knee again and popped off the other cap.

“Well you’d think they wouldn’t put a dead guy on screen.” Han huffed, shaking his head.

”Show off.” You teased Anakin, watching him open the beers while you were busy rinsing the dishes from dinner off in the sink to then set up in the dishwasher. 

“That’s what I do baby.” He shrugged, a grin on his lips as he plopped himself down on the other side of Han, handing him one of the beers. 

“It was all blurred on purpose, they didn’t show anything gross.” Anakin said to Han dismissively. “Just don't watch the 20/20 special they’ll put out. They always get their hands on a couple gnarly crime scene pictures.” 

“Ain’t that right.” Luke gagged dramatically, recalling a memory of the true crime show that he and Han had watched a few weeks prior. 

“I don’t get why they haven’t released the name yet.” You mumbled, leaning against the counter as you glanced at the tv. “You think it was a minor?”

“No, they would’ve said that by now.” Anakin shook his head, sipping his beer. “They’re probably waiting for the autopsy or the family or something.”

_______________________________________________

“What you’re seeing on screen now is a security photo, taken from a CCTV camera inside the building.” A male news anchor gestured to the upper left corner of the screen where a black and white photo was being displayed. It was grainy and dark, half of the lens obscured by something. “This is the only image released to the press via the police department, we were unable to confirm if this is the only image containing the suspect.”

_______________________________________________

“What am I even looking at?” You asked, walking up behind the couch and leaning over Anakin’s shoulder.

“I don’t see a person there.” Luke said, craning his neck to the side in an attempt to see it from a different perspective.

_______________________________________________

“Sources state that the substance obscuring the camera lens is black spray paint, making the majority of the image completely useless.” The news anchor spoke with a clear voice, pausing for a moment before speaking again.

“Analysis has confirmed that this re-touched image holds the only current clue to who the suspect is.” He paused again while a new photo appeared on screen, slightly different in color tone and slightly less grainy. The difference of the pictures side by side was quite clear, just above the black spray paint splotch, a slightly different shade of black and grey could be seen. “Highlighted within the yellow circle, you can just barely make out the shape of a hand holding the spray paint can.”

“Police are fairly certain the suspect is wearing a black long sleeved shirt or sweatshirt, as well as black gloves. Due to the poor quality, they were unable to determine the material of the clothing and gloves.” The female news anchor took over speaking while live footage of the crime scene played on screen. Police tape, an evidence tent and a coroner’s van could be seen in the center of the shot.

”Investigators working the scene have claimed there seems to be no clear motive in the murder and no suspect has been cited. The victim was a young, well liked individual, whose family claims had ‘no enemies’.” The female anchor continued, pausing again before switching gears slightly.

“The mall will remain closed for the next two weeks while the police continue to gather evidence. All other information is being withheld from the public while the investigation is still in it’s beginning stages. More on this story tonight at 6:00pm.”

_______________________________________________

“That's it?” Han scoffed, shaking his head in frustration at the short ‘update’. “This is almost worse than ‘Frat Lake’.”

“What?” You squeaked, the heat in your body all rising to your head at once, making you feel light headed. 

“You know, ‘Frat Lake’.” Luke turned around to look at you, “Those guys they found in the cabin across the lake from ours.”

“Oh, no… I know what you’re talking about. I guess I just didn’t realize they’d given the case a name.” You said quickly, trying not to stumble over your words.

“Well it’s like one of the main things in the news still, of course they gave it a name.” Luke said, shifting in his seat to put his arm on the back of the couch. “I don’t know about you but I still don’t think that kid did all of that by himself.”

“What makes you say that?” Anakin asked, his hand reaching up to snake underneath your arm and squeeze your bicep as if he could sense your nervousness even if he didn’t consciously recognize it.

“It was all so weird.” Luke said, looking over at Han. “Didn’t they say there weren’t any fingerprints anywhere?”

“Yeah, no fingerprints, no serial number on the gun, no bullet in the one dude.” Han mused aloud, each syllable from his lips making your stomach rise an inch higher in your throat. “He left those others alive, in the closet. It just didn’t make sense.”

“Well, shit happens.” Anakin said nonchalantly. “Maybe the plan changed.” Anakin’s thumb brushed back and forth over the soft skin of your inner arm, tilting his head up and to the side to kiss your arm. 

“Maybe, yeah.” You agreed, your eyes shifting away quickly as your cheeks grew hot and your throat began to itch. “He probably realized he’d screwed up big time and panicked. Maybe that’s why he posted that stuff before he killed himself.” You suggested, growing increasingly uncomfortable with the conversation but feeling it was more awkward not to give any input. So you simply repeated a paraphrased version of what Ghost had said to you.

“Probably.” Han agreed, nodding slowly before he put his arm across Luke’s shoulder. “I mean they weren’t good people so I kind of have a hard time feeling too bad about it.”

Anakin snickered at Han’s comment, turning his head away from the group for a moment before returning his eyes to the tv. 

“What? You think they should’ve gotten away with it?” Han asked with a scoff. “Maybe they didn’t deserve to die, but I think a few days in that closet might have been good for them.”

“Oh no, not at all. I’m with you 100%.” Anakin said with a crooked upturn in his top lip. “I’d say you’re probably right on the nose there buddy. That’s probably what that little shrimpy kid had in mind. I doubt he planned on them all dying. He was probably hoping they’d get found before then.”

“Great so now Han has a true crime buddy to yap about the unspeakable with.” Luke grumbled, looking over at you with a look of understanding and sympathy. His face morphed into concern when he met your eyes. “Jesus babe, you alright?”

“Ani,” You said quietly, unable to come to terms with the fact that they were all so casually speaking about the case that you’d been involved in. “I don’t feel so good.” 

“C’mere.” He said worriedly as he stood up and walked around behind the couch to stand in front of you, cupping your face in his hands to inspect you. “What’s wrong?”

“Can we please talk about something else?” You whispered, feeling tired and drained compared to how lively and happy you were just moments before. Ghost was right to tell you that you shouldn’t watch the news on ‘Frat Lake’. You’d thought you were over it, but the guilt just smashed into you like a mac truck.

“Feeling squeamish?” He asked, his eyes soft and caring as you nodded. “Lukey, it’s your lucky day. No more crime-talk. We’ve upset the fairer sex.” Anakin joked, trying to break the mask of seasick green that covered your pretty face. 

“Thank god.” He sighed in relief, changing the channel immediately, searching for something more friendly and less murdery. “This was supposed to be a cute double date. Not a gorefest.” He muttered under his breath.

Diary Entry: October 16

You know what? I complain in this little book a lot but honestly I just can’t help it. I’m a whiny guy sometimes and that’s okay. I can’t complain out loud. Even if I really wanted to. The other day made me feel kind of bad, after we left Luke and Han’s you were in a sluggish mood for the rest of the night. That’s okay, I get it. But I haven’t gotten all my fuckin’ done. I’ve been debating the possibility of digging Ghost back up just to get in a few extra rounds with you. I know you can handle it. You’ve done it before.  Anyway, I get it. You need some time to process that conversation but please for the love of all things holy, do it quickly before I go bonkers. You’re always right here with me and I can’t get enough of you, it's always been like that but before I was able to have you so much more. I was fuckin’ for two. 

Diary Entry: October 17

You keep texting Ghost. Why? It’s never a question. It’s never begging. You just tell him about your day. You tell him things you don’t tell me.  Do you really love that side of me more? Is this love for the best version of myself not authentic? I wish you’d stop texting. It’d save me a world full of confusion. I don't know what the hell to do. I need you to stop. I don’t know that I want you to see the two of me blended together anymore. The longer this goes on, the more worried I’ve made a big fat mistake I become.  Why do you trust him so much? It’s not like I didn’t lie to your face constantly. Knowing how badly you want Ghost to engage makes me want to bury him even deeper. I separated these two sides of myself for a reason, to give you the best and only the best. I lost that original goal somewhere along the way. 

Date: oct 18th

“Can you hand me that big spoon please?” You asked Anakin as you worked around him in the kitchenette of his apartment. 

“No.” He said flatly, even as he was handing it to you before you finished your sentence, making you snort softly. 

“Thank you!” You said in a sing-songy voice, turning back toward the stovetop to finish stirring up the pasta sauce. “Are you almost done with those?” You asked over your shoulder.

“I’ll be done when I’m done darlin’. This takes time and precision.” Anakin said seriously, holding up a finger to signal you to wait. 

“Ani…” You sighed, turning off the burner you were using and walking over behind him, pushing him to the side with your hip so you could see what he was doing. “Anakin SKywalker!” You gasped, smacking his arm.

“What?” He grinned, looking down at your red and embarrassed face. “You don’t like my cookies?” His lips in a pout.

“Just put them in the oven, we don’t even have time…” You tried to scowl but ended up with a downturned smile that gave way to surprise when you heard a knock at the front door. “See? No time to change them anyway.” You sighed.

“It’s unlocked!” Anakin shouted, scraping the left over chocolate chip cookie dough off his fingers with his teeth. 

“Oh my god, this place looks… exactly as expected.” Luke snickered as he walked into Anakin’s apartment for the very first time, seeing his eclectic design and decor choices.

“Yeah, looks cool as hell.” Anakin nodded, a big grin on his face as he funneled a few stray chocolate chips into his mouth and then dusted his hands off over the sink before washing them thoroughly. 

“Where’s this record collection you're always going on about?” Han asked, setting a big tote bag down on the center of the table. 

“In my lair.” Anakin said, happily jogging over to his bedroom door to let Han look through them. “Feel free to dig around, I don’t mind.” He said as he flopped down onto his neatly made bed.

Meanwhile Luke was looking through the random trinkets and knick-nacks littered about the living area. Occasionally scooting something around to get a better look at it, like he was grocery shopping and searching for a ripe avocado. You heard a gasp and the sound of Luke’s ‘ew gross’ noise and quickly turned around.

“What the hell is this?” He squeaked, pointing to a jar on a shelf positioned above the couch. 

“Oh, shit Luke. You scared me.” You laughed, walking over and standing up on the couch to grab the jar and bring it down for him to look at. “It’s a wet specimen.” 

“It looks like a… I don't know.” He grimaced. “Is it a kitten?”

“It’s a rat.” You laughed, turning the jar slowly to give him the 360 view.

“Why the fuck would- Anakin?!” Luke shouted and after a few seconds both Han and Anakin came out of the bedroom. “Why?” Luke squeaked out, pointing to the jar is disgust.

“Oh! You met Bertie.” He grinned, walking over and picking up the jar. “Bertie was… a gift.” He said awkwardly.

“You got a rat in a jar… as a gift?” Han scoffed in disbelief.

“No, I got the rat as a gift. The jar came after.” Anakin grinned, putting the jar back up on the shelf. “Wet specimens are a form of taxidermy. Bertie was my first and only childhood pet. I wanted to keep him.” He shrugged.

“I’m… okay.” Luke blinked, sharing a look with Han. “Remember when I said he was too good to be true? I was right.” Luke frowned in disgust at the jar.

“Oh come on, it’s no big deal, we had stuff like this in the science lab in highschool. I thought it was sweet.” You defended Anakin’s odd keepsake because it really didn’t seem all that odd. 

“Sweet?” Luke scoffed. “Babe. No.”

“Ah, leave him alone.” Han snickered. “You just picked up a stray cat and named him after your dead one. You’re weird too.”

“No. That’s different!” Luke insisted, crossing his arms and looking at you in hopes you backed him up but you were too busy giggling at the exchange to even pay attention. 

“Ah, well. Don’t come crying to me when Art the second dies and you want him in a jar.” Anakin snickered, teasingly clapping Luke on the shoulder.

“That’s serial killer shit bro.” Han snorted, following Anakin over to the oven where the cookie timer was beeping.

“Oh yeah?” Anakin grinned widely, holding up his hand in a fist to bring down a few inches above Han’s chest. “What’s the Psycho sound effect? ‘Ree-Ree-Ree’?” He snort-laughed, bringing his fist down repeatedly in a stabbing motion.

Han laughed, dramatically going along with Anakin’s jest by slumping over on the counter and reaching out a hand for Luke, making a fake strangled gurgling noise. Anakin shot a big smile over at you before he bent down to pull out the cookie tray from the oven while Han straightened back up and went over to console a very unamused Luke. 

“C’mon it was funny.” He laughed, putting an arm around him and steering him toward the kitchen table. He pulled out a chair and gently shoved Luke down into it by the shoulder. 

“How do you expect me to eat when there’s a dead rat in the room?” He asked in whiny voice.

“Anakin? Do you mind?” You prompted him with an apologetic glance. 

“Ugh, fine.” He rolled his eyes and made his way to the shelf, grabbing Bertie’s jar and taking it to his bedroom to stow it away while Han and Luke stayed for dinner. 

“Don’t you dare fuck with my cookies!” Anakin playfully shouted as he reentered the room to see you plating the cookies out of order. 

“Oh come on.” You whined as he picked you up by the waist and carried you over to the table, sitting you down next to Luke. 

“I think they put us in time out.” Luke muttered, his chin resting on his fist as he watched Han and Anakin filling plates and bowls for the four of you. 

“Yeah.” You huffed, rolling your eyes as you flipped on the tv. “Feels like it.”

“Eat.” Anakin said firmly as he sat down a bowl and plate in front of you, returning in a second with a glass of water. “Please.” He added in a sweeter tone as he kissed your cheek and sat down beside you with his own food. 

“Gimme that.” Han said, snatching the remote from your hand. He turned his seat sideways to better view the tv as he searched for the local news. 

“Wait, they’ll run it again in an hour.” Anakin said, snapping his fingers to get Han’s attention. “Remember how the ladies acted last time? You want it to be worse?” He gestured to the food on the table.

“Oh. Yeah you’re right.” Han chuckled, switching off the tv for the time being, deciding that the latest press release could wait until after dinner. 

“Ladies?” Luke repeated with his jaw hanging open. “Han really?” 

“What?” He snickered, turning his head to grin at Anakin. “He’s right. Just looking out for you hon.” He said, ruffling up Luke’s hair. 

“Oh whatever.” You muttered under your breath. “You two are awful when you’re together.” You said jokingly to Han and Anakin. 

Dinner went smoothly for the remainder of the time everyone was sat together at the table. The food you’d prepared and cooked alongside Anakin was much better than he gave himself credit for. He’d wanted to order in, insisting that Granny Lee at Thai Palace was a much better cook than either of you. (She was.) But you managed to convince him that it would be like a competition to see who could host better and that seemed to change his opinion very quickly. Even more so when you allowed him to take over making dessert all by himself. Which you sorely regretted.

“Cookies?” Anakin asked, a wicked grin spread from ear to ear as he placed the neatly lined up chocolate chip cookies down onto the center of the table. You sighed, blushing deeply as you hid your face behind your hands when Han busted out laughing and Luke started to giggle. 

“Darlin’, go ahead.” Anakin prompted, rubbing between your shoulder blades while chewing on the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. “Choose one.”

The pristine white ceramic cookie platter held a baker’s dozen of chocolate chip cookies, each housing a letter made of chocolate chips.

G-O-H-O-M-E-I-M-H-O-R-N-Y

“I suppose I’ll just take the G.” You laughed, hiding your blushing cheeks with one hand while picking up your chosen cookie with the other. 

“Momma always said you gotta send your guests home with a parting gift.” Anakin snickered, tonguing his labret piercing. 

“Are you kicking us out?” Han laughed, grabbing a random cookie without a second thought. 

“Nah, not yet. When the cookies are gone, you two better get going unless you want a show.” Anakin grinned, jabbing you in the ribs with his knuckles to tickle you and make you laugh despite yourself. 

“Shut up!” You giggled, reaching up and behind yourself to gently smack his cheek. 

“Ooh, feisty.” Anakin leaned down and tipped your chin up with his middle finger, planting a kiss to your lips before he yanked on your hair and sprinted away to the couch, leaving you with a scowl as you smoothed out your hair. 

“Ready?” Han asked as he walked over and plopped himself down on the floor in front of the couch to watch the press release from the local police department. 

_______________________________________________

A tall imposing police officer stood behind the dark stained oak podium, tapping a thin stack of papers into order on the wooden surface before clearing his throat and nodding to someone off camera. A few camera flashes could be seen as he leaned forward to speak into the handful of microphones situated on the podium. 

“On October 13, 2024, at approximately 6:32 AM, the Police Department responded to a report of a possible homicide located at Revival Records within the East Side Mall." He made a short pause.

"Upon arrival, Officers met with an employee who wishes to remain anonymous, who discovered the deceased victim, a male identified by family members as Eric Codgins aged 24.” The officer waited a moment to flip to the next page of his pre-typed speech.

“Investigators were called in to begin immediate follow-up." He stated, looking up from his papers into the crowd.

"Those on scene learned that the victim had passed away while inside Revival Records during closing hours the previous night. The Coroner took possession of the deceased, and the results of the full autopsy are pending. The current information available reads: Victim is believed to have expired between 6:30PM to 8:30PM. The deceased was found to be missing several body parts which were found to be stowed away on the victim’s corpse.”

“There were several tools and other affects found at the crime scene that point to the work of at most, two individuals involved in the murder.” The officer sat down his papers, cleared his throat and stepped back to allow another officer to take over the podium.

------------------------------------------------------------

“Body parts?” You asked in surprise. “I thought they found him sitting up in a chair.”

“They did.” Han nodded in agreement as you made your way to the couch and settled against Anakin’s side. 

“Well how did they… what parts are missing?” You asked in morbid curiosity.

“Baby they aren’t going to release that just yet.” Anakin said as he put his arm around you and planted a sweet kiss to the top of your head. “That’s the kind of thing they withhold for when they question someone.”

“Mmm, right yeah that makes sense.” You hummed in response.

-----------------------------------------------------------

“We will now allot for a brief Q and A session.” The new, younger looking officer announced as they stepped up to the podium. Looking immediately regretful as reporters and the like started shouting out questions.

“There have been many rumors circulating that this crime is occult in nature due to the brutality and mutilation to the deceased." The young officer paused with his lips pursed impatiently as the crowd began speaking over him.

"We have explored this lead in great excess and are confident that it does not fit the description of any satanic or otherwise occult crimes.” He responded, another round of loud shouting starting up the moment he stopped speaking.

“We are still working closely with the coroner’s office in determining the official cause of death as well as the murder weapon." He shifted on his feet as though uncomfortable with the information he was about to give.

"What we can share with you is that the main instrument used was some type of small, handheld double edged blade. Much like a tactical knife or pen-dagger. As well as certain types of butterfly or switchblade knives; both of these variants are illegal in our state.” The young officer responded, pausing and holding up his hand to signal for the room to remain silent as a fellow officer joined him for a moment to whisper something to him.

“I’ve just been cleared to confirm a frequently asked question on the case.” He cleared his throat as his colleague stepped back. “We are aware of the use of CCTV cameras that utilize time-stamped photos as a means of security are used throughout the mall and among several other stores and workplaces throughout the city."

"There is no immediate threat to other businesses or establishments that we are aware of, though we do urge business owners to update their surveillance technology to twenty four hour surveillance taping rather than timed photos.” The officer paused again while the crowd burst into another bout of questions.

“With that being said, our investigative team has determined the CCTV photos from the crime scene have not been altered, modified or tampered with in any way before or after the crime occurred." He continued, seemingly agitated that he was continuously being interrupted.

"The only camera on site that was tampered with was located in the service hallway behind Revival Records, via the use of spray paint.” He cleared his throat again, seemingly pausing for a deep breath before preparing to answer the next top question.

“It is not known how the perpetrators worked around the timed photos, though what we can say is that there is obvious movement of objects and the victim’s position in these stills. The only photo of a suspect we have at this time is the photo released earlier this week."

"The image is obscured in such a way that our team has been unsuccessful in enhancing it any further.” The officer stepped away from the podium as the first speaker came back into view to speak once more.

“This will conclude our Q and A session for the time being. Our hearts go out to the Codgins family who will be holding a public vigil for their son in the main square, downtown tomorrow at 5:00PM. We’d like to close this session by saying that while there are no current suspects, rest assured we are working diligently to find the persons responsible for this heinous act.”

------------------------------------------------------------

“Well that was a crock of shit.” Han scoffed, shaking his head as he reached up to his right side to squeeze Luke’s knee. 

“Do you want to go?” You asked Anakin quietly, a hint of concerned understanding lacing your words.

“To the vigil?” Anakin asked, his eyebrows raised as if he were surprised you were asking. “I mean… do you think I should? I didn’t really know him that well.”

“Well I don’t know, I just thought maybe since you saw him so often you might want to?” You asked, leaning your head over on his shoulder while playing with the rings on his right hand.

“You knew him?” Luke asked in surprise.

“Kind of?” Anakin sighed, looking at the tv screen as he spoke. “I go to that record store all the damn time so I saw him quite a bit but it’s not like we were friends or anything.” 

“Was he weird or like an ass or something?” Han asked curiously.

“What? No.” Anakin snorted softly. “He was just… normal I guess. I don’t know man, he was just the guy I handed my money to, you know?” 

“Right, yeah I get that.” Han nodded, while you on the other hand just quietly listened to the conversation happening around you. 

Noticing that something in Anakin’s voice had changed slightly, as though he weren’t fully engaged in the topic anymore despite still speaking about it somewhat in depth with the other boys. You assumed that he was busy watching the rest of the news broadcast still playing on screen and only giving the conversation a third of his attention, splitting it between petting you and halfheartedly watching the tv.

“Are you okay?” You whispered, disguising the question as a kiss on the cheek, knowing he probably wouldn’t appreciate you asking it aloud.

“Oh, yeah sweetheart.” He mumbled, bringing his hand up to twist the ring on the left side of his lip. “I’m all good, just thinkin’ that’s all.” He smiled.

“Okay Ani.” You said in a tone that let him know you didn’t exactly believe him, but you were willing to let it slide for now.

“So you guys want to watch a movie or something?” Anakin asked, licking over his top row of teeth. 

“Yeah sure, but I want some drinks or something.” Han said, rubbing his palms together. 

“I’ve got beer and that’s about it.” Anakin said with a shrug. “Or actually I think my girl’s got a bottle of wine, don’t you baby?” He asked.

“Yeah but we took it to my apartment, remember?” You said, patting his hand. 

“What a shame, you live so far away.” He tsk’d, smiling crookedly. 

“Speaking of, why don’t you guys just live together already?” Luke butted in, always one to ask awkward questions without a filter.

“Uh…” Anakin looked over at you as if he were asking permission to answer for the both of you, but you just shrugged. “You know, that’s a great question.”

“I guess we kind of already do live together. We always sleep in the same bed every night, just not always in the same apartment.” You said with a slight laugh. 

“I always imagined when I found my person that we’d move into a house, not an apartment. So maybe that’s why.” Anakin said, standing up and pulling you with him. 

“Are you saying you need a realtor?” Luke asked, his voice proving his excitement at having started this conversation and bringing up this topic. “I can call my mom. She’s got a realtor lady friend.”

“Oh yeah!” You nodded, “I remember her I think, blonde, scary acrylics?”

“Yep, that’s Amy.” Luke snickered, pulling out his phone and sending a text to his mother to get the information. 

“Well I guess we’re house hunting then, hmm?” Anakin grinned, smacking your ass lightly to usher you along. 

“I suppose we are.” You giggled excitedly, allowing him to usher you away from the couch without really knowing why he had gotten you up in the first place. 

“What are you doing?” You asked, looking down over your shoulder at his hand that was firmly planted on your ass. 

“Walking with you to go get that wine.” He chuckled, glancing back to see Han and Luke chatting while Luke hung off the edge of the couch. 

“Oh, right.” You nodded, letting him lead the way across the hall and into your apartment.

“So do you think I should go?” He asked the moment the door closed behind the two of you and you were in the hallway alone.

“Go where?” You asked in confusion. “The vigil?”

“Yeah, do you think I should go?” He asked, unlocking your apartment door and pushing it open for you, tonguing his lip piercings. “I knew him so like, i should right? Would it be weird if I did?”

“Ani, you’re overthinking it.” You sighed, picking up your cat as she sidled up beside you and rubbed against your leg. “If you want to go, then go and I'll come with you.”

“But I don’t want to go.” Anakin shook his head, leaning against the counter. “But I feel like I should.”

“Will it make you feel better?” You asked, scratching Boogie’s head.

 

“Nah, baby.” He shrugged. “I don’t feel bad in the first place, there’s nothing to feel better about.”

“Really?” You asked curiously, thinking it was odd that he was making such a big deal over it but still claiming he didn’t care. “How come? I mean you seemed friendly with him, didn’t you call him by some nickname?”

“Nickname?” Anakin scoffed. “No, that was an insult. Ferdinand, you know like the bull from that kids book? I called him that because he looked like an idiot with that big ol’ honking nose ring.”

“That’s a little hypocritical for someone who has a pound of metal in their face.” You pointed out with a sly smirk. 

“Yeah, yeah.” He rolled his eyes at you, but smiled anyway. 

“Ani, seriously though.” You said, sitting the cat down on the kitchen counter so you could walk over and smush yourself against him. “If you’re this worried about it, maybe you should go, just for your own peace of mind.”

“No, no you were right babydoll. I was overthinking it.” He shook his head, wrapping his arms around you and resting his chin on your head.

“If you change your mind it’s okay.” You said softly, pressing a kiss to the center of his chest. 

“I know darlin’. Thank you.” He murmured, tilting your head back in one of his massive hands to tenderly kiss you, barely parting his mouth to lick across the plumpness of your bottom lip. “You always know what to say. Always.”

“Mmm.” You hummed, smiling against his mouth. 

“I love you baby.” He whispered, squeezing you a little tighter as he tucked his face into your neck, his knees bent slightly. 

“I love you too.” You said quietly, your hand coming up to play with the curls at the nape of his neck.

“Alright let’s go back over there before I end up fuckin’ you.” He sighed, sniffing as he awkwardly tried and failed to shift his half-hard dick by kicking out one leg, resigning himself to shoving his hand down his pants instead. 

“Really?” You snorted, smirking as a pink tint grew across your face.

“Yes really.” He grumbled. “Your fault. Bein’ all hot and shit all the time.”

“My bad.” You shrugged and giggled, grabbing the wine bottle from the fridge and following Anakin on the short trip back across the hall where you found Luke and Han now cutely cuddled up on the couch. 

“Back already?” Han smirked, shooting Anakin a knowing look.

“We have company man.” Anakin grinned. “I can wait til after you’re gone. I’m not a complete horn-dog.”

You snickered, swatting at his chest before turning away to pour two glasses of wine, one for yourself and one for Luke, handing it to him before offering your glass to Han, but he held up a beer bottle to show he’d already found himself a drink. So you happily climbed back over into your preferred corner of the couch with Anakin, tossing the boys a blanket before covering yourself and Anakin up with another, getting settled in for your movie night. 

Just before Anakin picked up the remote to search for something suitable to watch, the newscasters announced the arrival of newly released, or rather, leaked photos from the CCTV at the Revival Records crime scene.

—----------------------------------------------------------

“The photos on screen now show very miniscule changes between frames. Each picture is taken at thirty second intervals, these three photos are shown chronologically.” The female newscaster held up her hand to gesture to the left side of the screen where three photos were lined up, each with a slight change between them.

“Our sources state that the majority of photos are similar to these, depicting very small movements around the victim, whether it be objects moving across the counter or even the digital footprint of the computer which showed activity during the time of the attack.” She said, looking over to her co-host for them to take over. 

“With no trace of the suspect or suspects in any of these photos, it’s hard to understand how this crime was committed. According to several twitter posts currently circulating, users are theorizing the crime was committed by someone with a military background or perhaps even a poltergeist.” The co-host said, cracking a smile at the end as a few different twitter posts went up on screen to back up their statement. 

“With such a brutal crime occurring on Friday the 13th in October, there was bound to be some wild claims, especially due to the seemingly invisible perpetrator of the crime.” They said, quickly switching back to their professional approach. “Online users have officially dubbed the suspect ‘The Ghost’.”

__________________________________________

Your eyes snapped up to the screen as your vision went blurry, unsure that you’d heard correctly, your voice sounded far away as you asked Luke to confirm the newscaster’s declaration. After having it confirmed, a sweet taste leaked out into your mouth. Your fingers went to your lip slowly and as you pulled your hand away, you heard Anakin speaking to you as though muffled by water. The words were unclear but his tone was understandable enough that you nodded along with whatever he was saying and allowed him to leave your iron grip to grab a paper towel for you. 

“Open up.” He said softly, his eyebrows pinched together in worry as he dabbed at your lip.

You did as he prompted and opened your mouth, hearing him wince as he pulled your bottom lip down carefully to expose the chunk you’d bitten out of the inside of your cheek. He sighed, tossing the remote to Luke so he could take over while Anakin tended to your self imposed wound. He carefully doctored you as best he could, wadding up a paper towel to soak up the blood trickling out to mix with your saliva while he put ice in a ziploc bag and wrapped it in a hand towel to hold against your cheek.

“You okay?” He asked worriedly, tilting and turning your face gently to check for swelling as he held the ice pack. 

“Uh huh.” You nodded, your eyes not meeting his. “I’m okay.” You smiled weakly, standing up and taking out the paper towel that hindered your speech, tossing it in the trash can. 

“Are you sure?” Anakin asked, following behind you closely as you curled back up on the couch and waited for him to settle beside you.

“I’m sure.” You said flatly, refusing to make eye contact with anyone in the room. “Can you just sit down? Please?” You asked impatiently as he stood in front of you, wearing that same concerned expression that had been there since the moment you injured yourself. 

“Right, of course babydoll.” He nodded, swallowing hard as he sat down and pulled you over into his lap. “Is this better? Can I get you anything? You’re comfy?”

“Can you stop talking?” You grumbled quietly, nestling yourself against his chest as he put both arms around you and settled your lower half between his thighs, cradling you in his embrace. 

“S-sure.” He nodded, furrowing his eyebrows but not complaining or prodding any further. 

“What we can share with you is that the main instrument used was some type of small, handheld double edged blade. Much like a tactical knife or pen-dagger. As well as certain types of butterfly or switchblade knives…” 

The police may not know what weapon was used. But you do.

The first half of Texas Chainsaw Massacre was spent in complete and utter silence between you and Anakin. An event that had never occurred before and you assumed would never occur again. He was always giving commentary, especially with movies he loved. This shouldn’t have been a quiet movie. He should’ve been yapping about what was going on behind the scenes, what props were used in place of other things, which lines were improvised, what he thought would’ve worked better had he been in charge of directing the film. But he was so, so silent. 

“Where is it?” You whispered. 

“Hmm?” He hummed as though he hadn’t heard you, but you knew by the way his heart sped up that he had. 

“Where is it?” You repeated yourself, trying to keep your voice as low and monotone as possible so you wouldn't alert Luke or Han. 

“Baby, I dunno what you're asking me.” He said quietly, shaking his head and putting his hand on the back of your head to hold you down against his chest when you tried to pull away to look at him.

“Anakin, no you-” You started, but stopped before the next word could be formed.

“Don’t tell me no.” He said sternly. Whispering into your hair as he threaded his fingers through it soothingly. “Everythin’s fine.”

“No, no I need you to tell me right now wh-”

Suddenly his mouth was on yours as he cupped your face in both hands, aggressively, passionately, angrily kissing you. If you couldn't have a verbal argument, he’d give you a physical one. He was telling you to shut up. You were telling him to please say something, anything. He was begging you to stop asking, you were begging him to come clean. 

“Jesus you guys, get a room.” Luke snickered quietly and you felt Anakin’s hand leave your face, his arm moving upward quickly, presumably flipping him off before returning his hand where it belonged. 

“Oh come on I was just joking, I don’t-”

“Shut up.” You and Anakin snapped at him in unison, turning your heads simultaneously and resuming your passionate wordless discussion. 

“Ew oh my god.” Luke groaned, nudging Han. 

“Leave ‘em be.” Han snorted, pulling Luke up from the couch and gently shoving him toward the kitchen to gather their things and before they’d even shut the door to the apartment Anakin was whipping his shirt off over his head.

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