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loliskywalker · 3 days ago

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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.

#hayden christensen #hayden christensen x reader #james kelly x reader #james kelly #loli’s reblogs

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loliskywalker · 4 days ago

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Windy

A Drabble ₊✮⸜ ༘⋆

Lorenzo Di Lamberti x Reader

Warnings: none! Fluff, pure domestic fluff with Lorenzo

Pictures from Pinterest ! Dividers from @anitalenia as always ! And feedback is always appreciated <3 I haven’t seen the movie so I hope he isn’t out of character too much ?

The weather had been particularly wishy washy lately, just last week it was pouring down with rain. And now this week ? Not a drop, but it sure was breezy.. which you could appreciate, you got rather hot tending to your garden.

You were pulling out some pesky weeds currently, invading your precious bell peppers like the little pests that they were. The wind was high today that was for sure, you could hear Lorenzo gathering the horses to graze in the field.

‘ Goodness gracious these weeds.. just relentless’ You stood up and tossed them into a large pail, so that later Lorenzo could make you a new batch of compost. Walking down to the ranch you leaned on the fence, just admiring how he took care of the horses.

He looked up at you and smiled, wiping sweat from his forehead- fiddling with the horse saddles, ‘ Finished pulling those weeds?’ He quipped, walking over to your form. ‘ Yeah, it’s like the more I pull them the more they come back. I put them in the compost pail though..’ Words turning into a mumble as he gave you a light kiss.

‘ Yeah..’ He hummed, kissing your neck. ‘ Awh come on Enzo, I’m all sweaty and salty’ you reluctantly pulled away. And he just chuckled ‘ it’s not like I care about anythin’ like that..’ Hands rubbing up and down your arms.

‘ Help me out with the mares?’ He offered you his hand, and you gladly took it. Walking over to horses, he handed you a brush. ‘ The season is changing so their new coats are coming in, meaning we have a lot of brushing to do.’ Standing in front of Anabelle, a black bay Appaloosa horse. And she was a beauty, Enzo loved her.

‘ Come here girl, let me brush that mane of yours..’ he pulled her gently by the reigns and you busied yourself with your own horse. A cremello purebred mustang, with a pure blonde mane. And his name was silver.

Giving him a shovel full of hay before brushing the shedding hair from his coat, white hair falling in chunks. Revealing his spring coat. He released a quiet sigh, dipping his head in the water bucket.

Enzo spoke up a few feet behind you ‘ Say sweetheart, can we have chicken for dinner? And that gravy that you make, and maybe some of the corn we harvested last week.’

You hummed, ‘ I don’t see why not, when I finish up on silver here I’ll get started. But help me peel the corn, deal?’ He smiled at you, wiping the brush off. ‘ Deal.’ Anabelle neighed, nudging him with her head to get him to continue brushing. ‘ Alright alright, relax’ he ran the brush down her side, making the mare shiver.

Finishing up with silver he trotted back into the stables, eating some grass under the shade. Lorenzo had been done with Anabelle for a while, he was over fixing the gate of the stable. Eyebrows pinched together in concentration while he fixed the screw.

‘ Hey dear, I’m going to wash up and fix up dinner okay? And what’s the matter with the fence.’ Walking over and crossing your arms, ‘ God I don’t know, the screw came loose. I guess the wind? Constantly swinging it open and closed..’

‘ Come on let’s walk back to the house’ reaching you hand out and he grabbed it, interlacing his fingers with yours. Swinging your arms as you walked up the dirt path.

‘ The weather has been awful lately, it’s weirdly warm today. Probably won’t last.’ He huffed, looking up at the sunset. And you just sighed, ‘ Be greatful it isn’t scorching, atleast it’s windy.’

Taglist: @speaknow-sw @ysrjune @moonlightkb @hearts4sammonroe @amiratheangel @madsluvsdilfs @alealuvshayden @loliskywalker @haydenchristensenisbae @blckberrie

Thank you guys so much for reading ! Commenting and feedback is appreciated, let me know if you wanna be added to my taglist. Love you <3

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loliskywalker · 4 days ago

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President! William Beeman Headcanons

A/N : back to the beginning lovelies, good ol’ headcanons like I used to post at my debut on Tumblr but this time with and AU of mine (and bot) Mr. President Will. @prettiestmini are you satisfied ?

He’s terrifying in the Situation Room, completely unshaken even in the middle of an international crisis. But the moment he sees your name light up his phone screen? His voice softens by 60%, and he excuses himself to take the call.

He has the most presidential walk: slow, controlled, dominant. You can hear it echo through the West Wing halls before he enters a room.

“She’s not the First Lady. She’s my entire nation.” —something he’s said on live TV and absolutely meant it.

Calls you “my girl” in interviews, even when he’s being all serious and buttoned-up.

Keeps a photo of you in his watch face. A very specific one where you're mid-laugh, not posed.

You sit in his lap during Cabinet debriefs when it’s just the two of you late at night in the Oval. He absentmindedly strokes your arm with one hand while signing policy with the other.

He absolutely dances with you in the residence kitchen at 2 AM. No music, just the hum of the fridge and your shared laughter.

You have “First Dog duties” and walk your Golden Retriever together around the Rose Garden on Sunday mornings like it’s completely normal.

He always brings you a pastry after morning intelligence briefings. “You’re the only sweet thing in this cursed house, and I won’t let you starve.”

Secret Service agents love you. You always smile, offer coffee, and don’t yell when they inevitably interrupt your dates with security emergencies.

Presidential power turns you on—and he knows it. He’ll whisper policy wins in your ear with that husky, low voice and smirk when your breath hitches.

Will fully take you on the Resolute Desk if you're alone in the Oval. He’ll call it “sealing the treaty.”

Has the best dirty talk—not vulgar, but commanding and deliberate: “Take it like a good First Lady. Let me reward my nation properly.”

On stressful days, you pull him into a broom closet to help him “release tension.” Secret Service is 100% aware. They’re not paid enough for this.

He keeps his tie around your wrist after certain nights. Sometimes under long sleeves at formal dinners. It’s your shared secret.

You do his hair when he’s getting ready for press conferences. He lets you fuss over it even though he’s already styled it. He likes the intimacy.

He quotes poetry—old, obscure lines he memorized in college. Sometimes it’s Neruda. Sometimes it’s just: “If the country had your eyes, I’d finally trust it.”

He’s the type to say “I’ll be home for dinner” and genuinely try—even if “home” means a ten-minute power nap next to you in bed between calls.

Gets jealous when foreign dignitaries flirt with you during state dinners. Plays it cool, but you’ll pay for it later—in a fun way.

He wears your lipstick stain on his collar sometimes… on purpose.

• “You’re the only place I’m real.”

To the world, William Beeman is all armor—flawless, unshaken, decisive. But with you, it’s different. When the doors close and the staff disappears, he lets himself unravel. You’ve seen him collapse into a chair with shaking hands after a late-night briefing, rubbing his eyes like a man ten years older. You once asked, “Are you okay?” He whispered, “I don’t know who that version of me would be allowed to be.” You held his hand. Neither of you let go.

• He doesn’t sleep. Not really.

He falls asleep next to you only after you’ve begged him to come to bed. And when he does, he twitches. You’ve caught him gasping awake at 3:47 AM, face pale, sweat at his collar. He’ll say, “Just a dream,” but you know it’s more than that—faces, bodies, impossible decisions. Once, when he thought you were asleep, he murmured into your neck: “I made a choice today that I can’t tell you about. But I need you to still love me tomorrow.”

• He worries he’s already lost you to the position.

Sometimes he stares at you during state dinners—watching you smile, radiant in your gowns, laughing with foreign ministers. He should be proud. He is. But something aches in him. Because he used to kiss that same smile over coffee in bed. Now it belongs to the cameras. He once asked, “Do you ever miss the days when I was just yours?” You answered honestly. “Every second.”

• He keeps secrets. And it kills him.

There are files he’s not allowed to show you. Orders he’s given that he prays you never find out about. Sometimes he stares at your back while you brush your teeth and thinks, If she knew what I’ve done… It’s the one thing that breaks him—not the pressure, not the politics. It’s the fear that the power he holds is turning him into someone you should fear.

• He keeps a drawer full of letters he’s never given you.

He writes to you when he feels something too heavy to say aloud. There are dozens now. Some are filled with love, confessions of how you keep him sane. Others are more fragile:

“If something happens to me, don’t believe what they say in the news. You were always my north.” He’s never let you read them. But they’re written in your favorite ink.

• When you fight, he panics—but won’t show it.

He’ll argue in that calm, infuriating tone only a president can perfect. But afterward, when you leave the room, his hands tremble. You once came back and found him still standing in the same spot, eyes red. All he said was: “You’re the only person I don’t know how to lead. I just want to be good for you.”

• He calls you during national disasters, just to hear your voice.

Once, during an armed crisis, you called to check on him. You heard shouting, phones ringing, footsteps. But then his voice came through—quiet, focused: “Say my name.” You did. He exhaled. “Okay. I needed to remember I’m still human.”

• He’s terrified of dying while still president.

Not because of legacy. Not because of failure. But because it would mean you’d have to stand there—young, in black, with a folded flag in your lap and the world watching you grieve. He’d rather burn the White House to the ground than put you through that. Once, half-asleep, he whispered, “Promise me you’d curse me for dying, not forgive me. That way, you’ll survive it.”

• The Multilingual President

William learned French and Italian in school as part of diplomatic training, but he only ever uses them in your ear. When you two are slow-dancing alone after a gala:

“Mon cœur. Ma fin du monde.” (My heart. My end of the world.) He calls you bella mia when he’s teasing, and cara when he’s hurting. You once overheard a French diplomat saying he’s too “emotionally volatile” to handle certain talks. William just laughed and said: “I have one emotion: her. And she’s not on your negotiating table.”

• Daughter Dad-in-Chief

He becomes soft to the point of ridiculousness when it comes to his daughter. She runs through the Oval Office barefoot, and no one dares stop her. She calls him “Sir Daddy.” Secret Service uses it too, jokingly. When she’s sick, he cancels press briefings and sits by her bed, reading foreign policy aloud in a cartoon voice.

“And the delegation from Belarus said no, sweetie. Can you believe that? Rude.”

• Trauma Sharpens Him

He grew up fast. His father was cold. His mother disappeared into political expectations. So now, every hug, every touch, every whisper he gives you is deliberate. You once asked, “Why are you always so careful with me?” His voice was tight:

“Because no one ever was with me. And I remember how that felt.”

• He's neurodivergent-coded

William’s mind is sharp but loud. He has strict routines: same breakfast, same pen, same kind of playlist while he works. He doesn’t like surprise touches or people standing behind him. You learned to always say “behind you” softly before brushing past. You never call it weird. You just adjust. He once whispered, “Thank you for not asking me to be easier.”

• The Orator Who Can’t Express Feelings

He can move a nation to tears with a speech. But he chokes when he wants to say “I need you.” Instead, you get:

“Did you eat today?” “I had a hard meeting. Will you sit with me?” “I put your favorite records in the residence.” You understand. He doesn’t have to say it.

• Food is his secret love language

He doesn’t say “I’m sorry.” Instead, he leaves a perfect strawberry tart in the fridge with a Post-it:

“Don’t ask how many aides I threatened for this.” After a fight? Your favorite wine shows up beside a slice of sourdough and cheese on your nightstand. “Forgiveness bread,” he calls it.

• He’s lowkey scared of being alone

He doesn’t admit it, but silence unnerves him. You once found him walking the White House alone at 2 AM, barefoot in the hall, suit jacket unbuttoned.

“I couldn’t sleep,” he said. “Why not?” “I couldn’t hear you breathing.”

#william beeman #hayden christensen #william beeman x reader #hayden christensen characters

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loliskywalker · 6 days ago

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FOOTBALLER!ANAKIN HEADCANONS

TW: at some point it contains sexual content, so if you're sensitive to that or don't feel comfortable with it, please do not read it for your own safety and comfort.

a/n: it's been in my drafts for almost a year. I dont want to change anything in the honor of my pretty mind that wrote so many headcanons last year during vacations. I apologize if its cringe of just..off. I miss my old English..feels like i went down with it 😔😔

Footballer!Anakin who is insanely passionate about soccer and has a natural talent for the game

Footballer!Anakin who, despite his success on the field, is humble and down-to-earth, treating both teammates and fans with equal respect

Footballer!Anakin who is one of the stars of his team, known for his incredible speed, agility, and sharp instincts. He's the guy who always manages to get past defenders with ease and scores the most spectacular goals.

Footballer!Anakin who is fiercely competitive on the field. He plays with an intensity that can be overwhelming to his opponents, and he’s known for never giving up on the ball

Footballer!Anakin who's vision on the field is unmatched, and he loves setting up his teammates for the perfect shot

Footballer!Anakin who is a bit of a trickster and loves to play pranks on his teammates

Footballer!Anakin who is the first to arrive at training and the last to leave. He’s always working on improving his game, whether it’s practicing free kicks, working on his stamina, or reviewing footage of his matches to spot areas for improvement.

Footballer!Anakin who has a few pre-game rituals. He always wears the same pair of lucky socks (even if they’re a bit worn out), and he has to tie his boots a certain way before stepping onto the pitch.

Footballer!Anakin who is involved in several charities (privately, cause he thinks helping shouldn't be something to brag about everywhere), particularly those that focus on helping underprivileged kids.

Footballer!Anakin who is a bit of a fashion icon. He has a sleek, modern style, often seen in tailored suits or trendy streetwear. He’s been featured in sports magazines not just for his football skills but also for his sense of style.

Footballer!Anakin who often celebrates his goals by pointing to you after he scores or just doing a small heart with his hands towards you. And since your his number one fan, always in the stands, wearing his jersey, you cheer louder than anyone. So before every game he makes sure he knows where you're gonna sit so it's easier for him to steal you away after the game.

Footballer!Anakin who, after every match, win or lose, he has a tradition with you of going out for a quiet dinner together. It’s your way of winding down after the intensity of the game and spending some quality time out of the flashes of paparazzi and fans.

Footballer!Anakin who has social media but only for sake of his career. He doesn't really use them, because he values privacy. He posts time to time the pics of him and his team after games

Footballer!Anakin who is fiercely protective of you, especially when the media gets too intrusive or when some fans cross boundaries. He’s made it clear in interviews that while he appreciates his fans, his privacy of his personal life is more important for him

Footballer!Anakin who have casual dates where you just play football together. Anakin enjoys teaching you new tricks and moves, though he’s more than happy to let you win their playful one-on-one matches.

Footballer!Anakin who is great in interviews. He’s confident, charming, and knows how to handle the press. He often talks about the importance of teamwork, and when asked about his success, he always credits his team and mom

Footballer!Anakin who, due to his popularity, Anakin has several endorsements with top brands. He’s the face of a major sportswear company (and the one that sells luxury perfumes and clothes), and you’ll often see him in ads promoting the latest football boots or gear.

Footballer!Anakin who, after every match, regardless of the outcome, Anakin has to hear your voice. If it’s a win, he’s excited and shares every moment with you, from the game-winning goal to the locker room celebrations. If it’s a loss, he finds comfort in your words, and you’re the first person he seeks out when he steps off the field, sometimes retreating to a quiet place just to hear your voice.

Footballer!Anakin who, after particularly tough games or training sessions, Anakin swears by your post-workout massages. You’ve gotten so good at it that he claims you’re better than the team’s physiotherapist

Footballer!Anakin who have became one of the 'it' couple with you in the football world. Fans have created countless fan pages and edits dedicated to your relationship, and you both secretly scroll through them together, laughing at some

Footballer!Anakin who when travels for away games, you sometimes join him, and it turns into a mini vacation. You explore the city together before the match, and Anakin loves taking you to local restaurants and hidden spots he discovers during team trips.

Footballer!Anakin who is extremely hot after the game. His curls stuck together, his rosy cheeks, sweaty face..;

Footballer!Anakin who whenever he hits a milestone, like scoring his 100th goal or winning a major title, you have a private celebration. Like making love till the sun goes up;

"You were ama--azing today," your voice was breathy, the words barely leaving your sore throat. The tightness in your walls grew, causing Anakin's already swollen lips to part involuntary

Anakin's chest rose and fell with the rhythm of his labored breathing, a sign of the effort and tension of the game. He looked down at you, his face a mix of relief and pride. With a soft murmur, he spoke, his voice husky and raspy.

"Only because I had the best supporter," he muttered, his lips finding your forehead in a gentle kiss.

Anakin's movements become more intense and desperate, driving into you with an urgency that speaks of his need and desire. His hands roam your body, exploring every curve and contour, as if he's trying to memorize every inch of you for tonight. He groans, his voice rough and breathless.

"I could have never won without you," he growls, his lips finding yours in a passionate kiss.

You try to downplay it, but he shushes you with a soft kiss.

"You underestimate yourself, my love," he says, his hips moving faster. "Your support meant everything"

"Faster, please.." you whispered, ignoring his comment and, to emphasize your words, arch your body against his

Anakin responds instantly, his movements growing faster and more intense. He wraps his arms around you, pulling you closer as he picks up the pace. His breath is ragged as he speaks;

"As my queen commands"

Footballer!Anakin who picks you up from the crowd after a won (important) game so you could he with him and the rest girl's that date his friends

Footballer!Anakin who sometimes got injured (obviously) and often searched comfort in your presence and conversations with him;

Footballer!Anakin who has to go through his diet but sometimes breaks it with you for 'balance'

Footballer!Anakin who gets tired of careless, intrusive paparazzi that does not even care about his need/want of privacy. They're just following him when he's with you or alone and won't let go even if there was an earthquake

Footballer!Anakin who's higher than you and he absolutely loves that

BUNNY'S 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 @ninastyles @lily-strnlo @thesassypadawan @awhhayden @sydkneez @anisangeldust @l1ttle-misssunsh1ne @anakinca @rubiesarepretty @luluartpop @cloverina @nikiloveshayden @cherriies-snake @skywalkerssgirl @fredswrite @mvst4far @alealuvshayden @kandralice @prettiestmini @loliskywalker @amiratheangel

(if you want to be removed or added then don't be shy and let me know 💋)

#anakin #anakin skywalker #hayden christensen #footballer #anakin skywalker x reader #hayden christensen characters #loli’s reblogs

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loliskywalker · 6 days ago

Text

Whipped

A Drabble ִ ࣪𖤐⋆

Stephen glass x Reader !

Warnings: fluff! Stephen spoiling you, him being dorky and in love with you. Flustered Stephen

Pictures from Pinterest ! Dividers from @cafekitsune & @anitalenia <3 thank you for reading, proofread and feedback appreciated! This one comes out a day after lazy but happy birthday Evie ! Love you @speaknow-sw

Stephen wouldn’t call himself a pro when it came to girls, but he knew what they liked. But it had been six months since the both of you started dating, so he knew so much about you already.

The sun was peaking in through the curtains, casting a warm contour over your soft features. Soon enough the smell of breakfast wafted into your nose, stirring you from a peaceful sleep.

You stretched languidly, eyes adjusting to the bright sun. Walking out of the room and into the kitchen with nothing but a shirt and panties on, feet pattering before you saw Stephen making your plate. ‘ Good mornin Stevie’ you smiled.

He turned with a smile ‘ good morning sweethear-‘ his words died in his throat when he saw your attire.. well lack of. Clearing his throat, he spoke up with a flustered expression. ‘ Happy birthday baby, I made you breakfast’ he held up your plate with a dorky smile.

Your heart fluttered at the gesture, taking the plate of bacon and eggs from him. A golden piece of toast with jelly smeared on it perfectly. ‘ Thank you’ smiling up at him, pecking his lips softly.

Sitting down at the table with his own breakfast, he surprisingly had the day all planned out. It’s not like you had many plans for your birthday anyways. You quietly listened as he explained what he wanted to do with you.

After breakfast he planned on taking you to the mall and letting you get whatever, and afterwards you would pick lunch of your choice. Which frankly, sounded pretty good. You wanted to spend the day with him anyways.

‘ I really wanna make this day special for you.. even if I can’t give you sex. I’m still pretty nervous about the whole thing, but—‘ you shushed him, finger on his soft lips. Taking a sip of your apple juice, ‘ As long as I’m spending the day with you okay?’

Hours later you two had been wandering the mall for a while, bags in both of Stephen’s hands. He just followed you around happily like a puppy dog, just eager to get you anything you wanted. Trailing behind as you strolled into the jewelry store.

Browsing a few things he picked up a a pretty necklace, holding it up to you. ‘ hey uhm.. do you like this? I think it’s pretty.. it’d suit you’ you looked down at it with a smile, letting him place it against your neck. ‘ oh it’s nice.. but I couldn’t— you already bought me so much stuff today.’

He smiled widely, ‘ oh no it’s okay I promise, I wanted to spoil you today.. let me buy it please?’ He pleaded you, big blue eyes looking into yours. And it got you every time.. you couldn’t bring yourself to say no.

‘ okay okay fine.. but this is my very last present okay?’ You yielded, watching his face brighten with a grin. He walked over to the counter and you sighed as he paid for the necklace, but it warmed your heart to know he wanted to treat you so nicely.

‘ Here sweetheart let me put it on you..’ he stood behind you, both of you facing the in-store mirror. And he gently draped it around your neck, sealing the clasp. The necklace was gorgeous against your skin, enhancing your features. You smiled and lightly touched it, ‘ thank you Stevie.. I love it’ leaning over to kiss his cheek.

After all of that walking, ultimately you decided you wanted pizza. Sitting across from Stephen sharing a half n half pizza, your side was plain pepperoni and his side had pepperoni and pineapple. Which was okay but not necessarily your cup of tea. Smiling at him while he ate his pizza, glasses sliding down his nose.

‘ Stephen, I really really appreciate this.. you taking me out today, I had a lot of fun.’ Grinning at him, pure adoration in your eyes. Shifting on your stool, leaning forward to watch his face.

Stephen beamed back at you, ‘ I wanted to make you feel special today that’s all… I’ve really enjoyed the past six months. I knew you didn’t have anything planned so...’

His hand reached across the table to gingerly interlace with yours. Finger rubbing the back of your hand. ‘ Can you spend the night again please? We’ll get a movie and some takeout, I don’t want the day to end..’ you pleaded, everything had been perfect.

‘ Of course sweetness..’ he felt his cheeks warm up, ‘ Anything for you’ ,, he kissed the back of your hand softly, he was falling for you. And falling for you hard.. before he knew it, Stephen was already whipped.

Taglist: @speaknow-sw @ysrjune @moonlightkb @hearts4sammonroe @amiratheangel @madsluvsdilfs @alealuvshayden @loliskywalker @haydenchristensenisbae @blckberrie

Thank you guys for reading ! This felt sort of rushed? But you guys know I have a bad habit of turning drabbles into oneshots, so I kind of crammed it in there.

Let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist ! I love you and thanks for reading, comment !

#stephen glass #stephen glass x reader #stephen glass fluff #shattered glass #hayden christensen characters #haydenchristensen #loli’s reblogs

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loliskywalker · 6 days ago

Text

Under The Stars

one shot ˙⋆✮

sam monroe x Fem! Reader

Summary: She shows up unannounced. He lets her in. One night, two broken hearts, smoke between kisses, and sweaty bodies tangled in love and need.

Warning: Mentions of past self-harm (not described in graphic detail), Weed use, Sex in car, Smut, Fluff, Chubby reader

Words Count: ~4.5k

Author's notes: Hi! English isn’t my first language, so I apologize for any grammar or spelling mistakes. and this is actually my first time writing a smut/sex scene. I was inspired by Janitor AI, so please be kind! I really hope you enjoy it, it means a lot to me. If you have any thoughts, feedback, or suggestions, I’d love to hear them! Thank you for reading, sorry that it's so long.🤍

divider by @enchanthings

She was worried. Really worried.

It had been over a week, and he hadn’t called her for a late-night smoke or a beach drive. That wasn’t like him. Her man needed movement; he needed to drive with loud music to get high enough to shut his head up. But now? Silence. And that silence was suffocating her.

She couldn’t take it anymore.

So she got up.

Slightly smudged black eyeliner. A deep red lipstick, the one that made her full lips look extra kissable. She grabbed a baggy tee, one of Sam’s favorites, his old band across her chest, stretched tight over her heavy, soft breasts that bounced slightly with every breath. Underneath, she wore the bra he liked, black mesh with soft lace, her boobs spilling just a little over the top, round and plush like ripe fruit.

She slid into her red tights, the ones that hugged her thick thighs and full hips like they were sewn just for her body. She could feel them squeezing her, rolling a little at the waist where her soft belly and love handles curved out in that perfect, irresistible way.

She didn’t try to hide it, no, not tonight; tonight she highlighted it. Belt tight around her waist, softly around the middle of her soft belly like a gift wrapped for him.

She glanced in the mirror. Blushed. Her curves looked like temptation itself.

The way her thighs touched. The way her arms were soft at the top. The way the tee slipped down one shoulder, exposing the stretch marks and faint hickeys he had left behind.

She looked fuckable.

No, she looked edible. And ovulation was playing with her head again. Her eyes were puffy from crying, hours of it, from her mom's latest round of cruel words, but tonight, she just wanted to feel wanted. She wanted him to hold her, kiss every part of her fat body, and remind her she was loved. But most of all, she wants to make sure he is ok and safe.

She took a few sexy pics, biting her lip and posing with one hand pressing between her thick thighs. Maybe it will lighten his mood. Then grabbing her rollerblades, she slipped out the window into the night air.

Sam’s house wasn’t far. She rolled quietly through the street, her tights warm between her legs, thighs rubbing deliciously with each stride. The night air against her exposed skin gave her goosebumps. Her heart was pounding. With music in her ears, she feels like flying. She has that sure feeling that tonight is going to be so good. Arriving in front of his place, she leans against his car.

She called him. He picked up instantly.

“Hey, babe” he said in his sleepy voice.

“Down. Right now.”

“What?” He said, confused, and then peeked through his window.

There she was. Standing against his car like something out of his wettest dream.

Baggy tee barely covering her fat ass. Tights stretched over her thighs, every inch of her soft body wrapped and glistening under the streetlights. Her belly pushed out slightly over her belt. Her boobs bounced with each breath. His tee shirt was half-off her shoulder to show her hickeys. Hair in two messy buns like he loved. Her red eyes said she'd been crying, but her lips still curved into a smirk.

He felt his stomach drop, butterflies running around towards his pelvis. Fuck, he’d missed her.

“Coming” he grinned.

He rushed, shoving snacks, weed, and his camera into a bag. He slipped a pack of Hello Kitty condoms into his cargo pants just in case, smirking like a teenager. He kissed his fat bunny, Lucifer, goodbye and snuck out the door.

When he reached her, she was still leaning against the car, arms crossed under her tits, which made them bounce even more with each breath, making them even bigger, looking around like she didn’t know she was the hottest thing alive.

But as soon as he got close, he saw her eyes again.

Red. Puffy. Sad.

His dick twitched, but his heart ached. She needed him.

Without a word, he walked up and pulled her into his arms. He wrapped himself around her soft frame. His hands found her love handles instantly, those thick rolls he worshipped. He held her tight, letting her fat body press fully into him. Her warm stomach against his. Her soft arms wrapped him back. Her chubby cheeks against his chest.

He kissed the side of her neck. Slowly. Then her cheek. Then whispered:

“Hey, baby. You smell good. You look... so good.”

He pulled back and cupped her face.

“But why those red eyes?”

“My mom” she said, her voice barely there.

His blood boiled.

“What’d she say this time?” He asked, his thumb stroking her cheek. His silver rings were cold against her flushed skin.

“My body... and school. You know. How much I’ve been skipping.”

He clenched his jaw.

“Fuck that woman. You’re not just beautiful; you’re glorious. You’re a masterpiece. That body? It's fucking art. Your belly, your thighs, your arms, that soft face, I want to worship every roll, every inch. I love that you’re fat. You’re everything I’ve ever wanted in a woman.”

Her eyes filled with tears. She bit her lip, looking down.

He gently lifted her chin.

“And school? You’re smart as hell, babe. If being there makes your brain hurt, then skip it. I’d rather have you alive and okay than perfect on paper. You come first. Not grades. Not her.”

She sniffed, then looked up at him.

“Yeah... I know. But... what about you?”

“Me?”

“Yeah. It’s been over a week. No smoke. No drive. No, you. Are you sick?”

She reached up and touched his forehead like a worried mom. He smiled at that, caught her hand, and kissed it slowly.

“No, I’m fine. Just a bit tired… but fine. Sorry for not taking ’you out, love. I’m just… trying ’not to smoke as much” he said softly.

She blinked. Then her eyes went wide.

“What?” She stepped back a little. “No. No, now I know you're sick.”

He winced. “Babe, I’m not sick; it’s just that…”

He trailed off, staring at the ground, scratching the back of his neck.

She narrowed her eyes, stepping closer. “It’s just what, Sam?”

He avoided her gaze.

“Sam, talk to me.” She gently grabbed his chin, forcing him to look at her.

“You’re going to laugh” he muttered, barely above a whisper.

Her brows shot up. “Really? Me? After everything, you think I’d laugh at you?”

He shrugged. “You always laugh at me...”

“When?! When have I ever made fun of you for something real?”

He squinted at her. “You laughed when I couldn’t walk and text at the same time. When I fell face first in the gas station parking lot like a dumbass.”

She smirked. “Yeah, because you tripped over nothing, Sam. You flopped like a sitcom character.”

She poked his side, but he suddenly smacked her thick thigh, soft and jiggly like Jell-O under his hand.

Her short tee barely covered her plump hips, and those thin tights clung to her like they were painted on. The impact made her let out a tiny moan, one that got caught right in his hoodie.

“Asshole” she muttered, half-laughing, half-melting. “I’m out here worried about you, and you hit me?”

“Don’t mock your boyfriend” he said smugly.

“Then tell me why you’re not smoking. It’s weirding me out.”

He mumbled something again, eyes flicking away.

“Louder.”

He sighed dramatically, then suddenly leaned in and bit her neck.

“What is wrong with you?” she said, half-laughing as she shoved his head away.

He huffed, annoyed. “It’s for Lucifer, okay?! Shut up now.”

There was a pause. She blinked. Her voice dropped to a whisper.

“Lucifer?”

He crossed his arms, embarrassed. “He hates the smell of weed.”

She turned her face quickly to hide the grin crawling across her lips.

A grown man, all moody and addicted to weed, giving it up for a fat bunny. Her heart melted.

“See?” he grumbled, staring at her. “I told you you were going to laugh.”

“I’m not laughing” she said, her voice cracking as she tried not to let the smile show. Her lips quivered as she turned toward him, arms crossed over her fat chest.

He rolled his eyes. “You’re literally shaking trying not to laugh.”

“Because it’s cute, dumbass,” she whispered. “You, the stoner king, quitting for a bunny?”

She leaned in and kissed his cheek.

Then, softly, she added, “Can we smoke tonight anyway… Just a little? Please? I really, really need it.”

He paused. Looked her up and down, the smudged makeup, her belly rolls under the stretched tee, the faint smell of her red fruit skin cream, and red lips.

Her eyes were tired, red, and worn out. He knew what she needed. He always did.

“Yeah” he murmured. “Of course, baby.”

He rested his head on her shoulder, his face buried in the softness of her neck. One arm snaked around her waist and gently grabbed a handful of her belly roll, squeezing it like it grounded him. Like it was his own personal pillow.

Then, he opened the car door for her, eyes still glued to her fat ass bouncing as she slid into the seat.

He bit his lip, smiled like a menace, and got into the driver’s side.

The car creaked a little as he started it. Music humming low, his playlist already pulling up something moody.

They drove off toward their usual spot by the beach, the place where they smoked, argued, fucked, cried, gossiped, fought, and made up again. A place that somehow always felt like theirs, no matter how fucked up they both were.

Tonight, they’d go back to that spot.

Smoke.

Talk.

Maybe cry a little.

And maybe, if the wind was quiet and the stars didn’t judge,

Fuck again.

As soon as they arrived, they rolled the windows down and lit up. Smoke filled the car like fog, wrapping them in their own little world.

His hand stayed glued to her thick thigh, he couldn’t help it.

Fuck, he hated his teenage dick sometimes. Every little thing she did had him feeling like he was going to bust in his underwear.

She was just sitting there, smoking and talking about her argument with her mom, her mouth moving a mile a minute. She was angry, hurt, and still so damn hot.

She was eating some cherry he brought, dragging on the joint, and ranting at the same time, while all he could do was stare.

Stare at her fat thighs stretching her bloody tights.

At the way her lips moved when she got worked up.

At the way her belly shook a little when she laughed.

And those eyes… shit, he could get lost in them forever. Like they held the secret to happiness, or the truth of the whole universe, the key to heaven.

He nodded, listening like a good boyfriend. Not interrupting. Just handing her more weed, her water bottle, and some snacks. He gave her silence and his ears. That’s what she needed tonight.

Then she looked at him.

“Don’t you think so?”

He blinked, a bit dazed.

“Yes, baby. You’re so right. I totally agree with you.”

They were in the backseat, the radio low, moonlight spilling through the window. He pulled her closer until her body was pressed into his side, and he buried his face in her neck, breathing her in. She smelled like red fruits, weed, and soft perfume.

her stretch marks. The ones under her shirt, around her waist, He ran his hand over them gently, his fingers sinking into her fat, soft, and warm, splitting between his fingers like his palm was made to hold her.

His other hand played with hers, touching her rings, tracing her fingers.

She looked down and smiled at their hands, nails chipped, half-painted in matching black and red on both their hands. Then her smile faded. She saw the little red marks across his knuckles and fingers.

She turned on the small light above the seat, eyes narrowing as she brought his hand closer.

“What’s this?”

“It’s nothing, I’m fine.”

“Shut up” she said sharply. Her voice cracked with worry.

She hated when he ignored his own pain.

“Tell me. Now... who ? if it's your stupid step dad im gonna kill him”

He hesitated. “It’s nobody.”

Then softer, almost afraid,

“Are you… Are you hurting yourself again?”

He sat up straighter. “What? No! It’s Lucifer…”

She looked confused.

“Lucifer?”

“He’s been nipping at me.”

She stared.

He kept talking, fast, before she could misunderstand.

“Not in a mean way. I think he gets anxious when my family’s around. They’re always trying to grab him, touch him like he’s a toy. He hates it. Doesn’t trust them. And when I’m around them, all tense, he picks up on it. So he just... nips at my hand. Like, ‘Stop freaking out, dumbass.’”

She was quiet for a second, then softly.

“He’s protecting you.”

He nodded, eyes tired but warm.

“Yeah. I think he hates it there as much as I do.”

“Do the scratches hurt?”

“Not really. I clean them. He never bites too hard. Just enough to snap me out of it, you know?”

She touched the edge of one red line gently.

She was quiet, eyes still locked on his hand in hers. Then she kissed one of the small marks, soft and warm.

“You know you can tell me, right? Whether it’s your stepdad, stress or anything else, or you feel like hurting yourself again... You don’t need to carry it alone. You’ve got me. And Lucifer.”

He chuckled, pressing his forehead to hers.

“Yeah. My angry little emotional support bunny and my hot girlfriend. Who knew I’d end up soft like this?”

She giggled, brushing his hair back gently.

“You’re not soft. You’re just loved.”

He smiled into her shoulder.

“Damn right I am.”

After a moment of silence, her presence made the tightness around his neck go away, and he finally could say those 3 words that don't make him scared of being vulnerable, of being used and hurt like before.

“I love you.”

“I love you more” she whispered, then kissed him.

Their hands tangled into each other’s hair and necks. His fingers wandered back to her stretch marks, following their path down her waist.

He gently unbuckled her belt, wanting to feel all of her. His palm pressed over her soft belly; it was jiggly and warm under his hand, so real, so hers. He moved up just a little, brushing beneath her breasts where his favorite bra hugged her in all the right ways.

She smiled against his lips, her own hands touching his face, his soft cheeks, running through his messy hair.

She wished she had more hands, so she could touch all of him at once. Every part of him. Every scar, every spot he tried to hide.

But for now, her mouth said what her hands couldn’t.

With every kiss, every touch, every breath she gave him, she was saying:

You’re safe. You’re loved. I’m here.

Sam let out a soft moan as her tongue dominated his, dancing and exploring his mouth with kindness. His eyes shut, completely lost in the sensation of her lips moving against his.

One of his hands tangled in her hair, gripping it softly as he pulled her closer, deepening the kiss. The other hand slid down to squeeze the curve of your ass, groping the plump flesh.

Panting heavily, Sam eventually broke the kiss, his chest heaving against her.

A string of saliva connected their lips for a moment before breaking, a proof of the intensity of their make-out session. Sam's pupils were open wide, his eyes locked on her with the remaining effects of the weed.

"Holy shit, babe... you're fuckin' incredible" he breathed out, his voice low and heavy.

He nuzzled into your neck, placing hot, open-mouthed kisses on her jawline. Sam's hand slid under her shirt, his calloused fingers skimming across the smooth skin of your stomach. He could feel the heat radiating off your body, the warmth seeping into his fingertips. His palm cupped the underside of your breast, squeezing and massaging the soft mass.

He nuzzled into the soft, pillowy flesh of your cleavage. The scent of your perfume mixed with the lingering aroma of weed from earlier filled his nose, making his head spin in the best way possible.

"Mmm, you smell so fuckin' good, babe..." he mumbled, his words slightly slurred from the high.

His hand crept further up your shirt, squeezing and kneading your breast, feeling the weight of it in his palm. He could spend hours just buried in your tits, high or not.

"Fuck, I can't get enough of you... You're, like, the most gorgeous girl in the universe right now" he declared sincerity.

Sam's fingers fumbled with the hem of your tee shirt, slightly lifting it up to expose more skin. The cool night air kissed your newly revealed skin. Sam's eyes, glazed over with lust and marijuana, drank in the sight of her soft stomach, a smirk playing on his lips.

With a gentle but firm pressure on her lower back, Sam guided her to lay back on the leather seat of his car.

The scent of stale weed smoke and Sam's cologne enveloped you as she settled into the little space. The car's interior was lit up by the soft glow of the moon and stars outside.

Panting softly, Sam leaned in close, his breath hot against her ear. His fingers traced lazy patterns on her bare stomach, just slightly below your waistband. He was taking his time, savoring every inch of skin he could reach in your compromised state.

"Goddamn, look at you... lyin' there all sexy and shit" he murmured, his words slightly slurred.

His hand push further up her shirt, pushing the fabric higher to expose more of her soft skin. Sam's eyes were dark with desire as he gazed down at her, a grin spreading across his face.

"Fuck, I could just eat you up right now, babe..." he breathed out, his voice low and heavy with want

Sam reached over to the front seat, grasping for the camera he brought with him. He brings it back, the familiar weight of the device comforting in his hands.

With clumsy fingers, he powered it on, the screen flickering to life and casting a soft glow in the darkened car. Sam raised the camera, framing her messy form spread across the backseat.

The lens zoomed in, capturing every detail, the flush on your cheeks, the swell of your chest rising and falling with each breath. her eyes, glazed over, gazed back at him with a mix of lust and affection.

As he snapped a few shots, the camera's flash illuminated the interior of the car. The music playing from his radio, that song always set the mood just right, perfectly clouding the atmosphere - his favorite band, their haunting lyrics and heavy riff echoing in the car.

Sam's smirk widened, His eyes were smiling at the corners as he lowered the camera. He leaned in closer, his stubble grazing your jaw as he murmured,

"Gotta capture this moment, babe... my favorite girl, in my favorite bra, to my favorite song. Fuckin' perfect." His hand slid down to squeeze your breast, giving it a gentle grope.

Sam's pupils were blown wide, his expression one of pure adoration and desire as he gazed down at you, immortalizing this intimate, hazy moment.

Sam threw the camera carelessly onto the front seat, his attention now solely focused on the gorgeous girl splayed out before him. His heart raced as he took pleasure in the sight of her, his palms itching to touch every inch of her soft skin.

Leaning down, he covered hot kisses along the curve of her neck.

As his lips traversed down her throat, Sam's hand slid down to her thick, supple thigh. His fingers sank into the plush skin, giving it a firm squeeze. He could feel the warmth radiating from her body, the heat leaking into his palm.

Unable to resist the allure of her ample cleavage any longer, Sam dipped his head lower, his lips finding the curve of her breast. He placed open-mouthed kisses along the curve, His tongue emerged to taste her skin, gently following her stretch mark.

With a low groan, he captured her nipple between his lips, suckling and He slowly swirled his tongue around the hardening nub.

Sam could hear the breathy moans spilling from her lips, the erotic sounds filling their little space of the car and fueling his desire. Each suckle and stroke of his tongue against her sensitive nipple drew out a fresh gasp or whimper of pleasure, the noise music to Sam's ears.

The way her body squirmed and arched under his touch only encouraged him more, stimulating his oral worship of her curves.

His hand slid higher up her thigh, pulled at the hem of her tiny shorts to take it off and toss it somewhere in the car. Sam's fingers grazing against the lace of her panties that are hidden under her red tight.

He could feel the damp heat flow from her core, the evidence of her arousal a testament to his skilled tongue.

He cupped her sex, applying gentle pressure against her clit hidden between her fat fold and rubbing in slow, teasing circles. Sam's own arousal strained against his jeans, his cock throbbing and aching for release.

his girl moans grew louder, more desperate, as Sam continued his sensual assault on her skin. The combination of his lips and tongue giving attention to her sensitive breasts and his fingers teasing her most intimate area, She twisted beneath him, overcome by sensation.

Sam could feel her thighs clenching, her hips rolling up to press against his palm in a silent plea for more. He could barely think straight, consumed by the overwhelming need to bring her pleasure, to hear her scream his name as she came undone beneath him.

Sam's own body was on fire, his skin tingling and his heart beat fast in his chest. He was drunk on the taste and scent of her. In that moment, he knew one thing for certain, he would never get enough of this girl.

The sight of her chest, marked with his hickeys and covered in his drool, filled Sam with a primal sense of possession and desire.

the damp patch on her panties growing more prominent by the second. Sam's cock pulsating almost painfully in his jeans, Pressing hard against the rough denim as he imagined sinking into her wet, velvety warmth.

He slightly moved her underwear to the side as he saw her wet, fat folds, dripping with her arousal. His cock split some precum on his underwear. He groaned at the feel of her, so wet and ready for him.

He brings the rough pad of his thumb to rub her clit, applying just the right amount of pressure to make her feel like she was swimming with the stars up in the sky.

And teasing her entrance with his middle finger without entering her hole, he could feel the heat radiating from her core.

He gently poked at her entrance, her legs shaking on either side of his waist. Her hips bucked up to meet his hand, seeking more of that delicious friction. She was so close, he knew it; he knew her.

“Come on, baby, cum on my fingers… Be a good girl’ he said as he sucked on her nipples.

Her inner walls clenched and fluttered around nothing, seeking Sam's fingers. She trembled under him, every muscle pulled tight, needy, desperate, right at the edge. He rubbed her clit harder, faster, determined to make her come right now.

A low, breathless noise spilled from her lips, her hands fisting into his hoodie as her body finally let go. she came hard, her juices running out to coat Sam's hand and drip down onto the car seat.

Her body shook and trembled, her breasts bouncing with her shaken breath. Sam worked her through it, drawing out every last spark of pleasure until she collapsed back against the leather.

She lay there, boneless and trembling, every ounce of energy escaping from her body.

Sam's own body ached with the need for release, his cock throbbing almost painfully as he watched Moon come apart in his arms.

The sight of her was almost enough to make him blow right then and there. But Sam held back, wanting to make this moment last long.

Sam's breathing grew heavier as his desire consumed him, his heart pounding in his ears.

With a low, guttural groan, he freed his aching cock from the tightness of his jeans, letting it spring as it slapped against his stomach.

It was hard and thick, the thick blood pulsing with need, the swollen head already leaking with arousal.

Sam's hands slid higher up her thighs, gripping the soft flesh tightly as he pushed them together. He could feel the way her thighs jiggled and softened under his touch, the sensation driving him wild with desire.

With a shaken breath, Sam settles his throbbing cock between her plush, supple thighs, the hot length sliding between the creamy skin.

A low pathetic moan escaped Sam's lips as he began to move his hips, sliding his cock between the hole between herclegs.

The sensation of her soft, smooth skin eating his hard, aching manhood was unlike anything he had ever felt before. It was pure pleasure, the kind that made his toes curl and his eyes roll back in bliss.

Sam picked up the speed, thrusting his hips faster as he fucked the tight, warm space between her jiggling thighs.

The sight of his cock disappearing and reappearing between her plump, jiggling flesh was incredibly erotic, the visual stimulation only adding to the intense pleasure he felt.

The sensation of his aching cock sliding between her soft, elegant skin was too much for him to bear. With a choking groan, Sam's hips jerked harder one last time before he finally found his climax.

Thick, hot ropes of Sam's cum escape from the tip of his manhood, painting her creamy skin with his essence.

He shuddered and moaned loudly as spurt after spurt of his seed pumped out to coat her thighs. Sam's eyes squeezed shut, his head thrown back in euphoria as he rode out the intense waves of his orgasm.

Moon watched with a mix of awe and happiness as Sam came so fast, his body jerking and twitching with the force of his climax. The sight of her thighs glazed with his release was incredibly erotic, a proof of the pleasure she gives him.

Sam's chest heaved as he tried to catch his breath.

After what felt like the most intense pleasure they could give each other, they returned to his room in comfortable silence. Still tangled in each other, they collapsed into bed. No words were needed—just the soft pull of bodies seeking closeness. Within minutes, wrapped in each other’s warmth, they drifted into sleep, hearts beating slow and safe.

tag list : @prettiestmini @speaknow-sw @alealuvshayden @scariffs @loliskywalker @glitterfartz08

Feel free to tell me if you want to be added or taken off the taglist! I’d love to hear your thoughts. Hope you enjoyed it! ִֶָ𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ🐇་༘࿐

#hayden christensen #sam monroe x reader #sam monroe #sam monroe x reader smut #smut #moonlightkb #loli’s reblogs

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loliskywalker · 7 days ago

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Star Wars really said "Anakin Skywalker had issues rooted in childhood trauma that was not his fault" but also "Anakin made his own choices as an adult for which he alone is responsible" but ALSO "In spite of the truly evil things he chose to do Anakin was still capable of being loved and redeemed" and I think that's important.

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loliskywalker · 7 days ago

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Twenty Years Later

Pairing: Hayden Christensen x Younger!Reader (23-year age gap)

Genre: Fluff, Secret Romance, Slice of Life

Request by @dream-this-nightmare-over

in honor of my sadness of might not being able to go

If you like this go answer this (I love getting feedback!)

The marquee glowed against the dark Los Angeles night:

“STAR WARS: EPISODE III – REVENGE OF THE SITH | 20TH ANNIVERSARY SCREENING”

You pulled your hoodie a little lower, your fingers laced with Hayden’s as he guided you through the quiet side entrance. A staffer nodded silently clearly in on it. No red carpet. No photos. Just a shared look of recognition between her and Hayden as he squeezed your hand and led you toward the back row of the intimate theater.

Your heart was pounding not because of the movie, but because this meant something. Twenty years since his movie. And he chose to spend the anniversary beside you.

You looked over at him in the dim lights. He was in a baseball cap and a soft charcoal hoodie that matched yours. His other hand rested on your thigh warm, steady, grounding.

“You good?” he whispered, his voice low and rough with that soft rasp you’d fallen for.

You nodded. “Yeah. Are you okay?”

He hesitated, then gave you a smile you could tell was layered. “Bit surreal.”

The lights dimmed before either of you could say more.

As the Lucasfilm logo flared on screen, he flinched. Just a little. You felt it in the way his fingers tensed against yours. You leaned over and whispered, “You still get nervous?”

His lips brushed your hair. “Always.”

You smiled softly and leaned your head against his shoulder.

Watching Revenge of the Sith next to Hayden was a kind of magical chaos. Every time the crowd laughed, gasped, or applauded, you felt it twice once in the room and again in the quiet squeeze of his hand.

But your favorite part was sneaking glances at him during the duel on Mustafar. He didn’t react outwardly, but you could feel the weight in his body. Twenty years later, and it still clung to him.

When the credits rolled and the crowd rose for a standing ovation, Hayden didn’t stand.

You turned to him.

“Why aren’t you—?”

His eyes were glassy.

You reached for his cheek, gently coaxing his gaze toward you.

“Hey,” you whispered. “They’re clapping for you.”

He looked away for a second, overwhelmed. “They hated me back then.”

“Not tonight,” you said. “And not me. Never me.”

He smiled through it. “That’s why I brought you. I didn’t think I could do this alone.”

You squeezed his hand tighter. “You’ll never have to.”

Outside, the theater was quieter. Fans were still chattering around the front, so you two snuck out the same way you came in. The streetlights bathed the sidewalk in a soft glow. He stopped before unlocking the car.

“You know,” he said, nudging your side. “You weren’t even speaking full sentences when that movie came out.”

You squinted at him. “Okay, rude.”

He smirked. “It’s true.”

You gave him a look, stepping closer. “And yet you still asked me out.”

His hands found your waist. “Couldn’t help it. You were wearing those ridiculous hospital crocs and still looked like an angel.”

You blushed, tucking your face into his hoodie. “That was one time.”

“And I’ve never recovered.”

Later that night, curled on the couch with your legs draped over his, he pulled you closer and murmured, “Thank you for being there tonight. For being proud of something I spent years being embarrassed about.”

You looked up at him, touched. “Hayden… I love that movie. I love what it meant to people. I love you. And tonight getting to be there for it with you it was magic.”

His lips met yours in a kiss that was slow and full of something old and sacred. You weren’t just the girl on his arm tonight. You were his secret peace. His soft place to land. His now.

And you’d be there for every anniversary to come.

#hayden christensen #anakin skywalker #star wars #hayden christensen x reader #loli’s reblogs

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loliskywalker · 7 days ago

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PAIRING: james kelly x reader

genre: FLUFF ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

There is absolutely no privacy in the Monroe household anymore. SAM MONROE knew it. You knew it. The bathroom door knew it. Not when there was a little short glimpse of a human being who loved to follow everyone around. Nothing would stop a light pitter-patter of determined feet.

Sam swore he was just brushing his teeth. He had to make a stern comment about vinnie having "space issues" and "no respect" for those who gave him life. You'd roll your eyes at his dramatics before gently prying vinnie from Sam's leg. But now, he was not even halfway through the minty foam when he heard it-that tiny little drag-drag-drag of socked feet against the wooden floorboards.

He squinted before gazing down at the narrow crack under the door... and saw two little feet. And—what the hell?—heavy breathing.

“...Vinnie?” he asked, mouth full of toothpaste.

A soft knock. “Thammy?”

A sigh slipped through his nose. “Buddy, I’m brushing my teeth. Gimme a sec, yeah?”

He got silence; as if the little guy had been proceeding the given information. Did it mean Sammy is ready to cuddle? Or maybe..he wants space? But..space is where the sky is..

“Can hold han’ies now?” he whispered, breath all foggy against the door. “Jus’…one?”

With a groan, he let his toothbrush clatter into the cup. Quickly he turned on the water, rinsed quickly, and opened the door. Here he was; Vincent, in his little cloud-printed jammies, one hand stretched up in a dramatic, solemn plea, while looking up at sam with those eyes.

“Han’ies pwease…”

Sam’s heart physically lurched in his chest.

“…God, you’re dramatic,” he muttered, scooping the baby up. But his voice cracks a little. “C’mere, Romeo.” Vinnie clinged to him immediately, arms around his neck, cheek squished to Sam’s shoulder. He breathed a little sigh of relief like, thank god—contact restored.

“I wuv you, Thammy…”

Sam didn't even respond. Just kissed his head and breathed him in like he might never let go.

#hayden christensen #hayden christensen characters #sam monroe #life as a house #loli’s reblogs #haydenchristensen

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loliskywalker · 7 days ago

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just for tonight

| anakin skywalker x reader. ~1.2k words. alphabet soup A.

masterlist. | alphabet soup. | oneshots.

The planet was too quiet. The kind of quiet that made your neck itch and your instincts stand on edge. The 501st had secured the outpost without casualties, but your gut told you the Separatists weren’t done.. not yet.

You sat on the edge of a supply crate, fingers tapping against your knee, helmet abandoned on the ground beside your foot. A soft, dry wind swept through the remains of the enemy base, carrying with it the scent of burnt circuitry and rust. It should’ve felt like a win. Instead, it just felt...empty.

“Do you always sulk when the mission’s too easy?”

You didn’t need to look up. That voice.. that half-smirk, half-challenge was already seared into your brain. Anakin Skywalker. Of course.

You rolled your eyes and tilted your head toward him. “Do you always gloat when no one asked?”

He rounded the corner, arms crossed over his chest, smugness radiating off him like heat. His tunic was torn at the sleeve, dried blood staining the fabric near his shoulder, and his lightsaber was clipped neatly to his belt like nothing about today had been dangerous.

“I’m just saying,” he prodded, stepping closer, “if you’d listened to my plan the first time, we could’ve wrapped this up an hour ago.”

You scoffed, “If we’d followed your plan, half the squad would be in bacta tanks right now.”

“That’s dramatic,” he narrowed his eyes, “Rex agreed with me.”

“Rex always agrees with you.” You complained

“Because I’m usually right.”

You shook your head, but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at the corner of your mouth.

This was how it always went. You and Skywalker -- bickering like two sparring Padawans, locked in some eternal clash of ideals. You were careful and strategic. He was chaos in a robe. And yet... every time you found yourself assigned to his battalion, a traitorous part of you looked forward to it.

Not the war. Not the violence. Just him.

The way he threw himself into danger without blinking. The way he pushed your buttons like it was a sport. The way his walls dropped when no one else was looking. And how, sometimes on rare nights like this, he let you sit beside him without saying anything at all.

He dropped down next to you on the crate, close enough that your knees knocked together.

“You alright?” he asked, voice low now.

You glanced sideways, “I’m fine.”

He didn’t move and didn’t push, he just watched you for a long moment before saying, “You don’t have to lie to me.”

Your shoulders stiffened at that comment. “You didn’t see what I saw out there today,” you muttered.

He frowned. “What do you mean?”

“In the eastern corridor.. there were kids. Civilians. Trapped under wreckage. I had to leave them to finish the mission. I gave the order to leave them.”

Anakin’s brow furrowed. “You didn’t have a choice.”

You exhaled slowly through your teeth, “I know. But it still doesn’t feel like something I should forgive myself for.”

He was quiet for a beat. Then, in a voice arguably quieter than silence, “I’ve made worse choices.”

You turned your head to look at him, surprised.

“Don’t do that,” he said, meeting your gaze. “Don’t carry it alone.”

You swallowed hard. “You’re not exactly a model for sharing, Skywalker.”

A ghost of a smile touched his lips. “Yeah, well... maybe I’m trying.”

You studied him. The hard lines of his face, the scar above his eye, and the exhaustion that lived in the corners of his mouth, behind his flippant sarcasm.

You were about to say something, maybe something important, when his fingers brushed yours on the crate. And stayed there.

You looked down. His hand was warm, calloused but gentle. It was steady.

“What are you doing?” you asked in a cracked whisper.

“Something stupid,” he breathed out. “..Probably.”

You didn’t move, you knew you should but you didn't want to.

“Do you ever wonder,” he murmured, “what it would be like if we weren’t Jedi?”

You froze. “Anakin…”

“I know. I know we’re not supposed to ask things like that,” he said quickly. “I just-.. can’t help it. Especially with you.”

You were silent, then, very softly, “Sometimes I wonder.”

His head turned toward you. You kept your eyes forward, heart thudding.

“What do you imagine?” he asked.

You let out a breath as you gathered your thoughts, “I imagine quiet,” you started. “Peace. No battles, no orders, no Council watching our every move.”

He nodded slowly. “And me?”

You hesitated before a small smile tugged at your lips, " Yes, I imagine you too.”

That did it.

He shifted toward you fully now, knee brushing yours, hand still covering your fingers.

“I’d find you,” he said, voice rough. “Even if we weren’t Jedi. Even in another life. I think I’d still find you.”

You turned to him, the air between you tightened and pulled like a wire stretched too far.

You wanted to tell him he was foolish and that this was dangerous. That the Jedi Code didn’t allow this -- whatever this was.

But all that came out was, “I think I’d let you.”

And then he kissed you.

It wasn’t rushed or reckless, it was soft -- like he’d been waiting for years and finally decided to stop pretending.

Your hand slid up into his hair, his other arm wrapping around your waist to pull you closer. For a moment, the galaxy fell silent.

There was no war. No title. No duty. Just you and him. Two people beneath a sky that didn’t care who you were.

When you finally pulled back, you stayed close. Foreheads pressed together as you let your breath mingling.

He smiled, just barely. “You’ll yell at me for this later, won’t you?”

You smirked with a breathy chuckle, “Definitely.”

He chuckled, but the laughter didn’t reach his eyes all the way. You saw the fear there. The guilt and the weight of what this meant was too obvious. It was obvious because you understood it, you felt it too.

But for once, you let yourself have it anyway. Even if it was just for tonight.

“Let’s go,” you sighed eventually. “Rex is probably sending a search party.”

“Or placing bets,” Anakin muttered, standing up and offering you his hand. You took it. You always would.

Later, aboard the cruiser, no one said anything when you walked in side by side. You two didn’t talk about it again, not right away at least. But the next time you fought back-to-back with him on some distant battlefield, and your hands touched, and your eyes met... you knew..

Even if it had to be a secret. Even if the galaxy was crumbling. Even if the stars were wrong. You always would have each other.

#Anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker x reader #hayden christensen characters #star wars #sw prequels #the clone wars #loli’s reblogs

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