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@andyluu
andy ✧ she/her ✧ 19!!
𐙚𓏲⋆ ִֶָ ๋𓂃 ⋆ᡣ𐭩 latina. emotionally dramatic. english is not my first languageˊˎ-
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𓏲ּ𝄢 mostly reblogs, thoughts, fictional men (mostly hayden christensen chars), my j.ai bots and my usual delusions :p
𓏲⋆ ִֶָ 𓂃 ⋆ my j.ai
𓏲⋆ ִֶָ 𓂃 ⋆ links: list of bots.ᐟ glimmer fics.ᐟ
Fighting like dogs and marking your territory when all you want is to fuck each other!
Clayton Beresford fluff
He'll make coffee while you sit on the kitchen counter, the apartment still wrapped in dawn. He won't ask what you're thinking but slide your favorite mug toward you.
Some mornings, the only sound is the spoon clinking against ceramic. These are the mornings you feel loved the most.
He always walks closest to the road, and puts a blanket over your shoulders when you've fallen asleep watching a romcom.
Last Sunday, you were curled up on opposite ends of the couch. You were reading and Clay was pretending to read.
Every few minutes you'd catch him glancing over the top of his book.
"What?" you laughed.
"Nothing," he said quickly, looking back at the pages that he wasn't reading.
"You keep looking at me,” you said softly. He shrugs, cheeks faintly pink. "I like seeing you here." Your heart nearly melted into the couch cushions.
Today, after one of the worst days you've had in months, you come home exhausted and quiet.
Clay's already brought home takeout from your favorite place and one of his hoodies that you keep stealing.
He settles beside you putting your comfort movie on. Your shoulders touch and the two of you eat in silence, nothing else for nearly an hour.
Eventually you whisper, "I'm sorry I'm not talking."
"You don't have to," Clay says softly. Then his hand quietly to yours until your fingers find his and he intertwines them. His hands are soft and warm on yours as he brings your hand up to his lips and gives it a lingering kiss. "I know that you love me," he whispers.
You stare at him lovingly. "I didn't say anything."
A tiny smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. He brushes his thumb across your knuckles. "Even when you're quiet, I love you too."
I Don’t Not Like You
⤷ Your last year of high school was meant to be about surviving exams and preparing for the future—not developing a hopeless crush on your classmate. The more time you spend with Anakin Skywalker, the harder it becomes to ignore the butterflies, the lingering eye contact, and the possibility that maybe… he's been looking your way too.
⤷ classmate!anakin x reader
⤷ fluff heh, modern au,high school crush typeshit, not proofread, 1k words
There was an unspoken rule you had made for yourself at the beginning of your last year of high school.
No crushes.
Senior year was supposed to be about getting good grades, surviving college applications, and making the most of the little time everyone had left together. Falling for someone was the last thing you needed.
That plan lasted exactly one week.
The first day of school arrived with the usual chaos—students wandering the hallways with crumpled schedules, teachers introducing themselves for what felt like the hundredth time, and classrooms filled with strangers who would somehow become familiar by June.
That's when you noticed him.
Anakin Skywalker.
an uneasy question | clay beresford
pt.2 to needy — i suggest reading pt.1 before diving into this fic
pairing: husband!clay beresford x wife!reader | word count: 616
summary: your husband’s maid has a couple questions regarding his personal choices which adds a whole nother level of discomfort to your morning breakfast
warnings: fluff, references to sex made by a side character, just overall cringe and secondhand embarrassment lolz
notes: originally posted on my ao3. happy reading! <3
Sitting across from Clayton at the dining table and closely inspecting him while you two devour your breakfast meals prepared by the maids after a passionate night was also an aspect of your relationship you so dearly missed after he committed himself to recovery. Every now and then, he took a second to glare at you and twist his lips into the faintest of a smirk, which always brought a sliver of a pink tint to your cheeks. He always knew how to get you worked up with nothing but his subtle facial expressions.
One of Clayton’s maids, Scarlett, approaches the table with a plate of Brioche bread— his personal favourite. Despite the deliciousness coming his way, you could not get past the smug expression plastered across the maid’s face.
“Mr. Beresford,” she starts off with a smile, leaning over the table with her hands gripping the edge. “Sleep well last night?”
Clayton pauses just as he’s about to take a bite of his well-prepared meal. He sets his utensils down on each side of the plate before giving Scarlett a warm smile and a nod. “Absolutely, Scarlett— oh, and must I add, the food you cooked up was divine. I can’t imagine how early you get up to put so much effort into your work.”
“Mhm,” she hums. “Unfortunately I didn’t get much sleep last night. My ears were bombarded by a strange level of racket coming from your side of the mansion.”
Clayton paused just as he was about to take a bite of the food hanging from his fork. He sets the utensil down on his plate, clearing his throat, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He says with a sheepish smile. How subtle.
“It sounded like your wife, like she was in an awful amount of pain,” Scarlett says which immediately catches your attention with wide eyes. Timidly, you take the napkin on your right-hand side to dab at your lips before speaking.
“Last night, Clay gave me a heavenly massage that not even a professional could achieve. Those— noises, were simply a result of his flawless technique to soothe the tension in my back. Right, Clayton?”
It was a shitty scenario, but to be honest, you feel really uncomfortable answering subtle questions regarding your sex life. Clayton nods, a tinge of nervousness in his demeanor. He takes a sip of his wine.
Scarlett narrows her eyes, but seems to accept your answer with a nodding of her head. “All right, Mr. and Mrs. Beresford. I was only speculating, because I last remember Mr. Beresford centering his focus around recovery, including minimising certain activity.”
Clayton nearly choked on his wine right there.
You only had the ability to let out a nervous chuckle. Her curiosity on your sexual business was rather unusual for a maid. But now, your interest shifted to how she knew about Clayton’s hesitation on returning to sex activity.
“Scarlett, I can assure you, Clay’s been very fixed on fully recovering from heart surgery. Plus, I think you have better things to worry about than what he and I are up to during our private moments.”
She smiles with a hint of cockiness to it, “I understand, Mrs. Beresford,” she turns to Clayton and nods before making her way out of the dining space, “Mr. Beresford.”
The feigned smile is wiped off your face the second Scarlett’s presence decamps. “What the hell? How does she know about your decision to avoid sex?!”
“She must’ve overheard us discussing a little bit after the surgery!” Clayton scrambled to defend himself, his voice a little hoarse after almost strangling on the wine.
“Well clearly, this place needs new and thicker walls!”
tag list: @mark-renton-luvr @h4yden-skywalker @lawless0rwilco @andyluu @velvetdahila | comment to join the taglist ❤︎
divider by @/cursed-carmine
｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆
THE TALENT.
vampire!sam and alt!reader see each other again after years…
cw: underage drinking, lower case intentional!
you had known sam since elementary school. he was always the shy, but troubled boy. you knew his home life wasn’t good. you and him weren’t exactly close, but indifferent to each other. you maybe even had a bit of a soft spot for him. then, during your senior year, he disappeared. no warning. just… gone. you- like everyone else went on with their lives thinking sam probably ran away to catalina or something.
you went off to college on a scholarship, and somewhat forgot about sam. one night, you and your small group of friends went to a bar. you used your fake id to get in per usual. then, you saw him. your eyes caught his from across the room, and you knew he recognized you too. it had been two years since you last saw him. he looked like not even a day had passed. but, he was still different somehow.
you stood at the bar, ordering a double shot vodka redbull. he practically materialized beside you, saying only your name. “sam monroe. wow. i haven’t seen you in so long!” you chirped, your words slightly slurred. “yeah, it’s been a while, hasn’t it?” his voice was smooth like whiskey and deep. you two struck up conversation, reminiscing on high school moments.
despite your drunkenness, you could tell something was different about him. he seemed… off. as the night continued, you introduced him to your friends. at one point, sam accidentally grazed his hand against your arm. it was ice cold. you physically recoiled, looking at him with a tilted head and a squinted gaze. the look he gives you in return seems to make your suspicions ease. almost like he could control it. control you.
a/n: this is so short and it’s low kirk ass😭 forgive me yall, just lmk what you guys wanna see next!!
@anakinssweetestgirl @andyluu
professional tennis player hayden if he wasnt an actor 🫣
YESSS GAWD ! my brother plays tennis and served as a ball boy at Roland Garros last May so I know a lot about tennis and i’ve decided to give you headcannons ! 🥹
Hayden isn't the loudest player on the ATP Tour, and that's exactly what makes him so intimidating. While other players celebrate every point or smash rackets in frustration, he simply adjusts his strings, takes a deep breath, and walks back to the baseline like nothing happened. The commentators even call him the Ice Prince of Tennis because no one can ever tell what he's thinking. “Nadal had power. Alcaraz has flair. Christensen? He has silence” they’d say.
His game is elegant rather than flashy. He has a gorgeous one-handed backhand, a huge serve, and some of the smoothest volleys on tour. Grass is his favorite surface, and watching him play at Wimbledon almost feels like watching someone dance. He doesn't overpower his opponents, he always outsmarts them with manipulation.
Away from the court, Hayden absolutely hates interviews. Every press conference is the same. Reporters ask long, complicated questions, and he answers with five words or less. His friends and his coach tease him endlessly because they swear he speaks more to you in five minutes than he does to the media all season. “How do you feel after today’s win?” the reporter would ask. “Uhh…Happy to still ne playing!” He’d answer innocently (the man dosent give af).
The two of you don't meet at a tournament. Your family sponsors a charity exhibition, and while everyone else is trying to meet the famous Hayden Christensen, he's hiding on the terrace to escape the crowd. You accidentally interrupt him, apologize, and somehow spend the next two hours talking about books, old movies, and travel instead of tennis.
He's so private that almost nobody knows he's dating someone. Nearly a year passes before paparazzi finally catch the two of you leaving a small restaurant hand in hand. Overnight, the internet is desperate to know who the mysterious woman is that managed to make the most reserved man on tour smile like that.
Dating Hayden means living out of suitcases. Australia in January, Paris in May, London in July, New York in September... after a while every airport starts to feel familiar. You've memorized the players' lounges, the best cafés near each tournament, and exactly which hotel room he'll choose if he gets the chance.
He's always awake before you. Every morning you find him in the kitchen with a coffee already waiting for you, the newspaper folded beside him after an early workout (he’s old so he reads the physical newspaper yeah). He never asks how you take it anymore bcs he learned after the first week and has made it exactly the same ever since.
No matter the tournament, he always looks for you before walking onto the court. It's become such a routine that the cameras have started catching it. He'll glance up toward the player box, scanning the crowd until he spots you. The second your eyes meet, he gives the tiniest nod before heading to the baseline.
After winning his first Grand Slam, the interviewer asks who helped him the most throughout the tournament. Hayden barely hesitates before smiling with one of those rare, genuine smiles the public almost never sees. "My wife," he says simply. It becomes one of the most replayed moments of the tournament.
The tennis world adores you because you've never tried to become famous through him. You sit quietly in the stands, cheer just loud enough for him to hear you, and disappear before the media can surround you. Fans start joking that you're Hayden's lucky charm because somehow he always seems to play his best tennis when you're there.
At home, he's completely different from the composed athlete everyone knows. He's affectionate in quiet ways, always reaching for your hand without thinking or resting his forehead against yours when you're talking. If you're reading on the sofa, he'll inevitably end up stretched out beside you with his head in your lap, perfectly content to stay there for hours.
needy
pairing: clay beresford x reader | word count: 1.4k
summary: though Clayton is committed to recovering from a heart transplant, he has no problem with giving you what you want.
warnings: smut (18+), fluff, self pleasuring, thigh riding, begging
a/n: not my proudest work ngl. originally posted on my ao3. happy reading!! <3
Your hips twitched and squirmed beneath the bedsheets. You couldn’t sleep, you actually had a difficult time sleeping these past few months without the feeling of Clayton inside you, taking you in ever so slowly.
It’s been six months since his heart transplant surgery, and he has been concentrating on full recovery since. Of course, at the expense of your guys’ nightly routine. Being deprived of sexual contact did no justice to your own body’s desires as seen with your struggle to keep yourself under control.
You eyed your husband, who laid next to you soundly asleep. Again, it’s been six months. If you had to go any longer without any form of sexual activity, you might end up killing yourself.
With a deep inhale, you shimmy in your bed, tugging your pyjama shorts down with your feet, them coming off in a jiffy and you gently kicking them away. Not hard enough for them to make contact with the floor but plenty enough for it to lay on the edge of the mattress. Next came your panties, which were tighter and required more force to remove them so you resorted to your hands. Gently kicking them away, your hands slowly made their way to your aching core which was already wetting. Taking two fingers, you danced over your cunt and began inserting yourself, pleasure washing over you but it didn’t fully hit until the tip of your finger meets your clit.
“Oh, that’s the spot,” you muttered and then took your palm to your hand to stick your moans. You arch your back into your touch, your hands were a sticky mess already. Brushing your fingers against your clit, you nearly let out a guttural cry but the hand over your mouth prevented it from freeing itself from your lips. Tears prickled the corners of your eyes as you slipped in and out of your cunt.
“Good lord,” you whined. “Clayton,”
“Do you really miss me that much?”
You froze with your fingers still encased in your folds. Clayton rolls over on his side to be fully facing you and a smirk teases the corner of his lips, revelling in your palpable embarrassment. You didn’t need a mirror to know you were a blushing mess right now.
“You didn’t hear all of that, right?”
Clayton chuckles. “Probably most of it, I’d say a good ninety nine point nine percent,”
“So you heard all of it,” you narrow your eyes.
“Probably.”
You whimper and bury your face in your pillow, humiliation washing over you. You could hear Clayton laugh, seemingly enjoying your discomfort. You feel his hand run through your hair.
“Clayton, you’re killing me,” you say, voice muffled thanks to the plush of the pillow. “You can’t leave me hanging this long and not expect me to fulfill my dirty thoughts.”
Clayton hums, fingers massaging your scalp. You continue your rambling.
“And I know you’re healing, baby. I know. But it’s unfair that I be put through such sexual shortage, don’t you think?”
Clayton’s amusement only shines when he lets out a hearty laugh. “You’re dramatic,” he pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “All though, if you’re that desperate…” his voice lowers and your head rises.
“I’m listening.” You propped.
With that familiar smirk that always made your stomach fill up with butterflies, he shifts himself to lay on his back and he spreads his legs. Hand motioning for you, you slowly climb up and settle on his lap. Your hands rest on both of his shoulders to stabilise yourself, and he entwines his fingers with yours while his right hand rests on the softness that is your thigh.
Once you were well adjusted, he began to bend his knee upward, angling it until it made firm contact with your core. You bite your lip to try and restrain a moan but it’s no match.
“Go on, princess,” he purrs, immediately sending a shock wave down to your cunt. God, you missed this— missed his seductive whispers, his gentle way of words to assure you before diving in. “I know you’ve been dying for this.”
His hand, the one encased in yours, moves to grip your other thigh, holding you steady. The intensity of his gaze naturally drew you in and left you with no other choice but to abide.
That’s when you dipped yourself between his knee and a ragged gasp drew from your lips.
The sensation was definitely unlike other experiences, but not terrible. Before the surgery, you’d never tried out thigh riding with Clayton before. He would only comply with oral (either one of you receiving, but he mostly preferred to grant you his tongue), doggy style, or his favourite: piv. In a nutshell, Clayton preferred to take the steering wheel. In fact, you wouldn’t mind doing this all night till dawn with him.
Your core is fueled with desire and your pace quickly turns from slow and concentrated to speedy and smooth. Clayton’s smirk shifts to a cheeky grin, basking in your desperation. Perhaps if he’d already recovered in his entirety he’d be taking you under and thrusting his cock inside you. Then again, you were definitely not complaining about this, even under such limits. You became too lost and worked up in the unruly bliss that’s flooding your senses.
His knee is probably drenched right now.
That thought brought some embarrassment to you, obvious by the way your cheeks flushed pink. Clayton titters at that.
“Hmm, you’re embarrassed, are you now?” He inquires in that warm and gentle tone that he knows damn well heightens your sexual attraction to him. “So wet for me, what a needy girl.”
The pet name dragged out a torn groan from deep in your chest and you eventually lost it and started going even faster. You couldn’t fathom how he wasn’t beginning to lose himself in a wave of pleasure. He seemed to be entranced in the harmony of your movements like it was seeing a Renaissance painting for the first time in person.
“Don’t you worry baby, you can make a mess,” he mutters whilst dragging his fingers along the skin of your leg. “I’ll clean myself up when you’ve finished.”
“Clayton,” your voice quivers and you release a strained, “I’m gonna cum.”
“I’m ready for you whenever you are, my princess.”
Swallowing hard, you pick up the pace even more and you’re going fast as your lower half possibly could. Your strangled noises dragged on and your grip on his shoulders tightened. Hopefully you left no bruises.
Your back arches in sync with a strained cry, your hips rocking against his thigh. His fingers on your thighs tightened to ensure you didn’t fall over from the climax that was creeping up on you. One of your hands makes its way to his hair and you tug on it in rashness. If it weren’t for his and your own grasp you’d have most likely toppled over by now. He kept whispering what was a mix of sweet nothings and enticing encouragement.
Your mouth formed an ‘o’ shape as you reached your peak, dissolving into the pleasure. An edged gasp and a shockwave seize your body, and you collapse onto his chest, his arms immediately enclosing you and pressing your form against his torso.
For a moment, you two just lay there. Silence. Nothing but that and your frantic breaths, which hindered with every passing second. Slowly, Clayton’s right hand shifted to sit on the small of your back, right above the curve of your ass. His left hand took the time to stroke your back and fiddle with the ends of your hair. After unwinding from your climax, you propped your chin up on his chest to look him in the eye with nothing but pure adoration. He exchanged your gaze, making your heart flutter. You close your eyes, press a gentle kiss to his collarbone, and rest your cheek against his chest.
“I love you.” You declared, and you couldn’t see it, but you knew he returned your words with a smile.
“I love you more,” He said and gently planted a kiss on the top of your head. You’d retort with a ‘no, I love you more!’ but to be honest, you were too worn out for an I love you war.
“Let’s hope the maids didn’t hear you.”
You bit back a giggle that still made its way through your lips, and so did he.
tag list: @mark-renton-luvr @h4yden-skywalker @lawless0rwilco @andyluu @velvetdahila | comment to join the taglist ❤︎
i DONT fucking care if it’s marked nsfw, i’m still reading this shit AT work!! “not safe for work”, more like “now safe for work”.
ok bye, that’s all for my ted talk…
Haii!!!!!! I loved that James Kelly story btw I just read it and holy smoly I loved it
could you write a James Kelly x reader who is on her period????
James doesn’t know she’s on her period ( she thought he may be weirded out by it or sum ) and he finds out and starts treating her so sweetly????
thxxxxxx!!!!!
yes yes yes yes!!!!! i need more sweetheart james fics they’re literally needles in a haystack. like no offense to those who do enjoy this version of james but i don’t always want him scolding me and getting all up on me for “being a little brat” LOL
an actually weird grown woman attacking a teenager for following a tiktok trend. ok
james kelly x short!reader
a/n: this is very self indulgent lol. don’t know if it’s just me but across my social media feeds I have recently been seeing a lot of hate towards short women and women who desire for tall boyfriends and as a short person myself (5’3 is not for the weak 🥲) with height being one of my biggest insecurities since grade school.. idk I just felt brought down when coming across such hateful commentary being made about something that are mostly dictated by my genetics. maybe I just have thin skin or I need to log off and touch some grass but it genuinely pained me. sorry for the rant lolz. happy reading!! <3 p.s. I apologise for how lazy this is but it is a ficlet sooo
“I’m telling you, jamie. I am not short!!” you whined helplessly as you looked up at your towering boyfriend JAMES KELLY. being a whole head smaller than james automatically subjected you to his torment and teasing. “you’re so tiny I could fit you in my pocket”, “look at you, wearing shoes and can barely reach my chin” “darling, you have to stand on your tiptoes just to kiss me”. it frustrated you for sure but you would be a lying woman if you said it didn’t make you flustered from time to time. with how easy it was for him to lift you into his arms, how he would be gentle with you in order to not hurt you…
“since you’re so tiny, I gotta be careful when putting my hands all over ya. wouldn’t want to break my sweet girl, would I?”
one day however, his teasing was getting to your head. “I’ll show you how tall I can be!” you stuck out your tongue with confidence, then you adjusted the sleeves of your shirt before you began jumping over and over again with all the energy your body could summon. james leaned back on the wall with his hands in his pockets and an amused smirk on your face as you hopped like a rabbit. you were almost there.
suddenly james caught you while you were in mid air and hoisted you up in his arms, your chest flush up against him. your feet dangled in the air, and james’s smirk morphed into a roguish grin. he leaned in to give your nose a quick peck and looked back at you with a loving gaze.
“there. now we’re even.”
tag list: @mark-renton-luvr @h4yden-skywalker @lawless0rwilco @andyluu @velvetdahila | comment to join the taglist ❤︎
"And anytime you feel the pain, hey Jude, refrain,
Don't carry the world upon your shoulders." ☹️💔
- Hey Jude | Beatles 🎶
GRACIAS INFANTINO, HICISTE LLORAR A MI NOVIO 💔
