#clay beresford fluff

[slut4prongs]

Clay Beresford x Reader

With the sun falling lower in the sky, and your phone becoming significantly more boring, the idea of bothering your boyfriend was starting to sound better and better.

So without much further thought, you drop your phone down on the bed and stand from it. Quietly padding out of your shared bedroom and down the hall to where Clay is working in his office. The door makes a small creaking noise as you poke your head into the room.

Clay’s eyes move from his computer screen to the door, where he can’t help but break out into a soft smile when he spots you standing in the doorway.

“Hi…” you mumble softly as you cross the room to wrap your arms around his shoulders from behind his chair.

“You said you were gonna be done an hour ago.” you almost whine into his ear as you tuck your face into the side of Clay's head.

Subconsciously, Clay leans into your touch letting out a content sigh before replying quietly “I know baby, I just got all caught up with this, I’m sorry.” He pauses briefly to reach up an arm to gently pet your hair. “I’ll be done in like 10 minutes and then I’ll come join you, okay?”

“I don’t believe you, you said the same thing like 3 hours ago.” You mumble into the side of his neck.

Letting out a soft huff of laughter Clay gently guides your face out of his neck so he can look at you. “Okay, well how about you sit right here,” He gently pulls you down to sit on his lap. “And hold me accountable so I actually stop in 10 minutes.” He questions quietly as he wraps an arm around your waist, anchoring you on his lap.

“Yeah, okay.” you murmur with a small giddy laugh.

Clay softly pulls your head down to rest in the crook of his neck so he can see his computer. Closing your eyes as you hear the clicking of Clay's keyboard resume you feel a soft peck on your cheek as you drift off into a light sleep on his lap knowing you’ll probably wake in an hour to him still typing away.

[catnipaddictt]

Clay surviving and finding the love of his life?

clay beresford x reader

wc: 1k

cw: fluff, kissing, spoliers for Awake (2007)

comment: I love love love Clay, so thank you anon <3

Clay was absolutely smitten. After his ordeal during his heart surgery a lot had changed for him. One of those being you. He never thought that he would be capable of love again. Sam’s betrayal made him doubt himself everyday and showed him the lengths people would go to in order to have access to his fortune.

He met you sometime after his surgery, but was still apprehensive about letting you into his life. Slowly but surely, over time he began to open up to you. He told you about his childhood, his mother, and eventually what happened during his heart transplant. 

You were patient with him, something he valued in you. You let him speak and always listened so intently to what he had to say. 

When he realized he was developing feelings towards you he was conflicted and confused. He truly thought he wouldn't be able to produce these kinds of emotions again. Clay wanted to trust you, he knew he could, but he couldn't shake the memory of Sam and the plot against him.

It took time for him to figure out what he was going to do about his attraction towards you. He wanted you but at the same time his brain told him it was a bad idea. That getting caught up in romance would lead to heartbreak and more devastation.

You however fell head over heels for Clay. He was passionate and spoke in a way that made you feel as if he was taking in every breath you took. You didn't want to scare him off so you pushed those feelings down to the deepest pit of your very being. You couldn't bear to ruin your friendship with the blonde.

After weeks of debate with himself, Clay came to his decision. During one of your weekly sit downs at a cozy corner cafe, he took your hand in his. 

Looking across at him, you felt the warmth of his skin against your palm. You prayed he didn't notice the heat rising on your cheeks or the shaking of your hands. His soft blue eyes looked into yours as his thumb gently ran across the back of your hand.

As he spoke, he looked softly at you, eyes never leaving yours. He told you about how he had come to see you more than just a friend, but that he was confused with himself. Although you would never be able to understand the extent to which he was affected by Sam, you knew that this was hard for him.

After he had admitted his feelings towards you, you were left slightly stunned. Clay Beresford really liked you? You felt like a schoolgirl who just found out that their crush liked them. Breaking the pause in conversation, you let out a grin so big Clay thought he could have another heart attack from the slight. 

He was surprised as you told him you felt the same about him. He couldn't believe that sweet little you thought of him the same way he did you. 

You both took things slow in the beginning. You knew that Clay still suffered with internal doubt about your relationship, so you made it your mission to show him how much you truly cared about him.

As time went on, he realized that this was real, and that you weren't faking your feelings to get his credit card number. Once he came to this conclusion he felt more like himself than he had in a long time.

Holding hands while on a walk turned into peaks on the lips and eventually, you staying the night at his luxurious home. It felt so right for the both of you. 

You fell into a steady rhythm with each other. The pair of you were obsessed with each other, seeing the other was the highlight of your day. Clay was thankful for your understanding when it came to his past. And you were delighted to try and help him through this. 

Many months went by, and it was safe to say that you both were well and truly in love with each other. The first time you said those three words to each other was a calm Saturday afternoon. The sun shine illuminated Clay as you strolled through the public gardens. The autumn leaves fell around the two of you as you walked hand in hand across the grass. 

The leaves that littered the ground were still damp with that morning's dew causing you to tread carefully. Unluckily for you, you stepped down without looking into a particular slippery leaf. Before you know it you were sliding onto the ground, directly into a pile of leaves probably left by some children. Clay's hand was lost from yours as you landed in the pile, causing a laugh from him.

Before you knew it you were both laughing at your clumsiness and he was reaching out his hand to help you back up. Seeing your chance you took his hand only to pull him down into the leaves with you. As he toppled towards you he let out a noise of surprise before landing beside you. 

You laughed as he turned over, lying in the leaves on his back. You followed suit, lying down next to him as the sun hit you through the barren branches of the trees above. 

You sense his head turn to face you, his eyes looking into you. Turning your body to face him you smile at his now messy hair, leaves stuck in it. You pluck out a few golden ones, moving his hair around softly 

“I love you” he says abruptly, your eyes locking on each other. You break out into a smile which fills Clay with butterflies. “I love you too Clay.”

His eyes shine at your words as he pulls you closer to him, leaves sticking to the both of you. He places a sweet kiss on your lips, which you return swiftly. Pulling away you laugh at all the leaves still stuck in his locks. 

“You look nice like this” you say to which he lets out a laugh that is so very him. “You always look nice sweetheart, even if you are covered in leaves” he replies smoothly before sitting up and getting to his feet. This time you let him pull you to your feet before your hand is in his again.

You felt like the luckiest person alive and you could bet that Clay felt the same.

Let me know if there are any errors or if you want to be added to the taglist!

Taglist: @heartsforanakin @qvnthesia @ysrjune

[samonroegf]

clay brainrot | f!reader ᝰ masterlist

clay comes from alot of money, so he loves to buy you presents. he loves to spoil you with anything you'll accept from him.

once he comes clean to his mother about you, he's bringing you to every event he attends. you right on his arm, and he's proudly introducing you to all of his affiliates.

clay loves to travel, especially after he survives his surgery. he wants to see everything, and wants you by his side. best believe y'all are fucking in every major city.

definitely paid for a boudoir photoshoot for you, and keeps the pictures on him at all times.

if he isn't allowed to bring you with, nightly video chats, which usually end in him cumming on the screen of his phone.

loves buying you jewlery and lingerie, loves seeing his purchases on you. the little fashion shows you do for him make him so happy.

clay’s favorite thing is taking scenic drives in a convertible with you. he loves seeing you with the wind in your face. always talking about how pretty it is. and maybe the road head is a plus

romantic date nights are a must, buys you a fabulous gown for every single one. taking you to the fanciest restaurants and getting a private table for the two of you.

he loves nothing more than when your head is on his chest, his fingers cascading through your hair. he loves just being able to feel you there.

his favorite position is you on top of him, your tits pushed against his chest while he ruts up into you. loves feeling your lips curl around the skin on his neck.

[sockiess]

I finished all the requests in my inbox so please request more!! 🫶

[skyguys-princess]

Love me some sexy businessman. Finger licking good 🤭

[cosmicanakin]

Hii! I saw that you were receiving requests, so I was wondering if you could write something with Clay beresford. So you know he’s like very reserved and serious, so everyone thought that Clay would be a very cold and distant boyfriend, but when the reader and him start dating, everyone’s speeches to see how sweet and loving he is. Just some fluffy scenarios. Thank you!! It’s okay if you don’t want to write it:)

౨ৎ PROVING THEM WRONG.

੭୧ . . . clay beresford x female!reader.

ᯓ though known to be cold and reserved, when clay starts dating you, everyone is surprised to see the loving and affectionate man that he actually is.

warning(s) fluff┆established relationships┆mild social judging┆marriage┆mentions of pregnancy. 𓇼 thank you sm for the request anon kisses <3

　✧⠀ ⠀⠀　𓈒　⠀⠀ ⠀૮₍ ´ ꒳ `₎ა⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ꪆৎ masterlist.

after months of shy glances and nervously exchanged smiles from across the room at various work functions, you finally worked up the courage to give clay beresford your number. to your surprise, he called within the hour to ask you to dinner that weekend.

your friends were shocked at your news, warning you of clay's reputation for being cold. "don't get your hopes up y/n, we all know clay isn't one for emotions or commitment. just be careful, okay?" while their concern was sweet, you got the sense there was more to clay beneath surface assumptions.

the dinner went wonderfully, clay being the perfect gentleman pulled out your chair and listened intently to you speak. any awkward silences didn't feel uncomfortable but companionable. by the night's end as he walked you to your door, you felt a fluttering start taking root in your heart seeing his normally serious expression soften into a gentle smile solely for you.

more dates followed, each only increasing your connection and affection for one another. to everyone's surprise, clay proved a caring boyfriend always attentive to your needs, happiness and comfort. grand romantic gestures were replaced by tender looks and leisurely strolls enjoying each other's company without need for flashy displays.

the warmth in his eyes and tender caresses meant more than any elaborate showmanship ever could. for the first time you felt truly seen and cherished for who you are within rather than superficial assessments judging without bothering to peel back concealing layers guarding his heart. through patience and understanding clay eventually lowered all defenses with you alone.

slowly your friend's bigotry started cracking as well, catching how gentle yet strong arms encircled your form at gatherings without desire for bravado. simple intimate moments when clay would kiss your temple in passing melted cynicism into understanding why this reserved man captured your soul so wholly.

his wealth and inheritance mattered little to the devotion within warming your life to brilliance. words flowed freely, laughter liberating what stress accumulated through days apart soothing away in tranquility of each other's sanctuarying presence. in your arms clay discovered solace calming all turbulence of doubts plaguing mind when alone.

so it continued through months turning to seasons, love blossoming ever more vibrantly where commitment tended roots nourished by understanding alone waters true affections blossoms requiring only sunlight of smiles warmed by souls mirroring each other's radiance. misunderstandings faded beneath blossoms thriving where care sustains dreams nurturing lifelong partnerships amid life's changes.

two years finding bliss together passed in companionship's tranquil stroll, contentment's sighs breathing life afresh during stolen moments sheltering hearts entwined from turbulence beyond your calm port. talking late into nights after family dinners, fingers interlaced, remnants of days worries evaporated under tender caresses and kisses sweeter than any nectar reviving your soul to clay's humming rhythm.

his protective yet liberated spirit known fully by your heart alone rejuvenated purpose anew each dawn waking limned in his softened gaze sharing pillow talking until obligations reluctantly summoned you both from comfort's embrace. forever imprinted upon your soul remains memory of proposal kneeling upon sand caressed by ocean's susurrus, waves lapping celebration of love's permanence within clay's watery eyes reflecting your radiant smile mirroring joy illumining his normally guarded visage.

a summer wedding follows amid friends and family fully supportive now of your perfect union, witnessing love transcending surface levels carved deeply as roots anchoring two souls as one. traveling the world strengthening already unbreakable bond, learning of clay anew through wanderings unveiling pieces you fit to his mosaic glimpse by glimpse, deepening cherishing beyond any limit imaginable before love found your separate halves.

three fulfilling years later, you're cradling your newborn daughter within your arms as clay gazes upon you both with such emotion flooding watery eyes, your heart has never felt fuller nor purpose clearer than raising this miracle of pure love cementing forever your fate intertwined.

[skyguys-princess]

I’m getting a sugar high from all the sweetness!

CLAYTON BERESFORD HEAD CANNONS 💲

TW: at some point it contains filthy, crazy sexual content, so if you're feeling uncomfortable with it, please do not read

💲Clayton Beresford who didn't really trust you at all in the beginning (clear trust issues after Sam). When he started developing feelings for you, he'd be very distant with them. Not really sure how to react, he takes a break from seeing you to give himself time and understand what is going on with him. But after he concluded that he misses you and really likes you, he'd decide to talk to you about his feelings. Giving you a chance, but most importantly, giving himself a chance to love again

💲Clayton Beresford who takes things slow; trying to make sure you're not using him for money

💲Clayton Beresford who quickly becomes obsessed with you. He could just watch you do anything and his eyes would have this spark that only you could bring out

💲Clayton Beresford who loves to watch you get ready; whenever it's dressing up, doing makeup, he absolutely loves it. The way you got so focused on the task was so alluring for him; your narrowed brows, bit lower lip

💲Clayton Beresford who would help you put necklaces, not being able to stop himself from planting gentle kisses on your exposed neck

💲Clayton Beresford who obviously loves to spoil you in every way he could come up with. He'd buy you stuff that you're interested in; like jewellery, dresses, books you enjoy reading, etc. But he'd try his best to do gifts himself as well; in spare time or when he's taking a break from work he'd try to do some origami (his favorite is rose since his mother taught him how to do it when he was a kid) or would try to learn to cook different things for you, almost burning the kitchen since he's not the best chef

💲Clayton Beresford who's taking care of you especially when you're on your period. Would make sure you're all comfortable, have all things near you so you don't have to move too much, having in mind how painful cramps can get. He'd definitely snuggle up to you, pampering you with kisses while his hands carefully move over your body, trying to not cause any sharp pain. And if you'd have cravings he'd try to satisfy them too, even the weirdest ones

💲Clayton Beresford who's sometimes giving you his credit card, trusting you to not spend all of his money

💲Clayton Beresford who's always eager to watch your little fashion show in your new clothes you've bought

💲Clayton Beresford who can't help but give you a light smack on your butt whenever you bend down. Or just wraps his arms around your waist from behind to rest his chin on your shoulder, watching you do whatever you did

💲Clayton Beresford who has a habit to cook with you and get silly like little kids. Mostly you two would end up with flour on your cheeks and clothes

💲Clayton Beresford who seeks comfort from you, opening about his traumatic experience he had during the surgery. He'd often feel down as his mind drifts back to his mother. But to not be alone, he'd come to you. At first he'd just ask if he could hug you and when you'd give him permission to, he'd burry his face in your neck, savouring your scent that always managed to calm him down

💲Clayton Beresford who can't go out of bed without having at least five minutes of cuddles and morning talk with you or having a little love making; he'd mostly thrust into you from behind, groaning in his morning, raspy voice against your neck, kissing it softly;

💲Clayton Beresford who loves to show you off (only if you're comfortable with it). Will take you to different meetings and events, having his hand on your waist or lower back

💲Clayton Beresford who wants to make you happy everyday since you're making him the happiest he could ever be

💲Clayton Beresford who loves when you cuddle to him

💲Clayton Beresford who's work ends the first sec you walk into his office. Knowing that you're his best distraction

💲Clayton Beresford who's a soft dom;

"Fuck, I could stay in you for hours" he intensived his thrusts, making you moan even louder

"Mh-- can't more.. s'too much clay" you mewl, your eyes barely open from such an amazing feeling he was able to provide you

"C'mon sweetheart..you can take it, know you can.." he gasped out, his body trembling as he felt the first waves of pleasure coursing through him.

💲Clayton Beresford who can't keep his hands off you after he comes back from meetings/events that lasted few days;

his lips left kisses all over your neck as you felt his long fingers go down to brush against your already soaked panties. He stopped kissing you, making your cheeks burn in heat even more "You're so wet for me..." he broke the silence that made you hold your breath "such a needy girl, you've been waiting all day, huh?"

"Damn it... need to be inside of you more..." He moved his hips in an attempt to find a deeper angle. His hands moved down to squeeze your hips as he thrust harder, pushing against the tight muscles of your core

"Shit... can't hold back... you're so damn tight..." He clenched his teeth and continued to thrust to reach his peak and hopefully send you over the edge of your own ecstacy

💲Clayton Beresford who bends you over his desk, completely not caring about the papers that can fold or tear;

"Now, now..you're gonna be a good girl and keep your pretty mouth closed, hm? We don't want all my employees to hear how I'm gonna tear you apart, do we pretty girl?"

💲Clayton Beresford who takes his time with you. Even if he's a dom he wouldn't do something you don't want or don't feel comfortable with, since he sees sex as something both sides should enjoy/feel good with and not only one

"That's it baby, tell me how good it feels to have such a generous man inside of you." Clayton's lips curl into a breathless smirk as his thrusts become more deliberate yet rough as you mewl and moan in answer

💲Clayton Beresford who can't help but make love to you (that's a very polite way to call it) when you have a new dress on. There's just something about it that makes him go nuts; your face all twisted in pleasure when he fights the urge to rip the material off;

"You will like it even more when I rip it off," he groaned, his teeth grazing your earlobe as he reached out to feel the fabric between his slim fingers to tear the dress off your body. Causing a helpless whine leave your mouth while your hands tried to push his away. You liked this dress way too much to let him just rip it off like this

"Shh..it's just a dress..I'll buy you another one, the same..promise-- could even buy you more if you wanted"

(or when you beg him to get rid of the dress, too impatient at his long foreplay)

"Please clay...just--take it off.." you whine

"As you wish, sweetheart" he murmurs with a proud smile, pleasant how you've became such a mess underneath him so easily "But trust me when I say that once I've taken off every stitch of clothing from your gorgeous body, I won't be able to stop myself from taking you again and again..until you're nothing but a pretty little mess in my arms"

💲Clayton Beresford who slips his hands under your shirt whenever he's holding you from behind

💲Clayton Beresford who makes sure you understand your worth and see how special/beautiful you are

💲Clayton Beresford who will buy you gifts without the occasion

💲Clayton Beresford who loves the simple things you two do together that he had never done before. Like going grocery shopping (he'd look all around as if he had never seen a grocery shop before and in general would look lost and wouldn't leave your side), playing board games, going to the zoo, using a train (he'd look lost as hell)

💲Clayton Beresford who enjoyed spending time with your family since you had aunts, cousins, grandparents, etc. You just had everything he didn't have anymore and as much as it sometimes pained him, there was something calming to see you and other people from your family to interact in such close way

💲Clayton Beresford who loves how sweet you are. Always giving him kisses here and there, cuddling to him, giving him small gifts you did yourself or bought for him. Or just in general, cause he sees you as his special girl. How you've showed him the love he thought he won't ever experience again, gave him his happy ending- you're just his special, miracle girl he'd love forever

TAG LIST: @kingdomhate (missing you love) @ysrjune @heartsforanakin @divineani @erosmutt @emmaloo21 @haydenlovers @haydensprettyprincess @mistress-amidala @catnipaddictt

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

[slutforfinnickodair]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐀𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 𝐔𝐒

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫����: 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 ��𝐥𝐚𝐲’𝐬 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐛𝐞���𝐧 𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐠𝐨𝐭 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐂𝐥𝐚𝐲 𝐝𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐚 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐏 𝐢𝐧 𝐕, 𝐮𝐧𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 (𝐳𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐳𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭!) 𝐚𝐥𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭, 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐂𝐥𝐚𝐲’𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐭𝐡, 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞.

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐅!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐂𝐥𝐚𝐲 𝐁𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐝

𝐀/𝐍: 𝐰𝐡𝐨𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐈 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐦 𝐦𝐰𝐚𝐡! 𝐇𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲💗

————

“You are not serious right now.” You giggled as he moved on top of you, still inside of you. “Clayton.” You warned as he pressed his pelvis right against yours, slightly rocking the bed against the wall.

“Your mother will hear.” You gasped slightly as he hit a deep spot inside of you. “Clay.” 

He didn’t respond. The only thing that he did was softly place his thumb on your clit to rub gentle slow circles against your bundle of nerves. 

You heard the constant rocking of the bed against the wall, the concern inside of you growing with the pleasure that was building up in your lower stomach.

Lilith could walk upstairs any time she would like and there would be your good girl reputation laying in front of her legs.

“Clay.” You whined this time as he brought your hips closer to his while laying down his torso on top of yours, holding himself up by his hands.

“That’s it, Darling.” He said while speeding his movements up, making you moan into his mouth and grasp at his back.

You let out a cry, harder this time as you tried burying your face in his shoulder.

“Clayton is everything alright?” You heard Lilith’s voice echoing through the hall.

The sweat fell from your forehead down onto his skin from the sudden shock that earnt your ears. 

“Yes mother, don’t worry about it.” He replied casually as if he wasn’t just railing you on his bed.

“Stop.” You whispered as you heard her heels tapping against the tile that was set down in the corridor coming closer. “Please.” Your fingers squeezed his shoulders, but Clay smirked at you and lifted your hips up with his, grabbing a pillow and placing it under your bottom.

He then grabbed both of your thighs and lifted your legs up into the air, holding both of your ankles with his left hand.

“You sure? I heard panting. Did you take your pills this morning before work?”

“Yes. Don’t worry.” He responded while slowly sliding out of you but keeping his head in.

“Clay, I don't want you sick in this house.” Lilith’s voice showed concern as you were trying to keep your breaths steady.

“I’m completely and utterly healthy.” He started while slamming his entire length back into you.

You had to squeeze your eyes shut if you wanted to really stay quiet.

He slid out again.

“No.” You mouthed as if he could hear you.

“Don’t worry mom. Now I would need to finish one of my projects.” He said while you rolled your eyes, feeling him slam back into you.

A soft moan left your mouth and you immediately hid your mouth with one of your hands.

“Okay. I’m going to Brooklyn with Stephanie. Please make dinner until I get home.” Lilith said before you heard her heels clapping against the tile, distancing themselves from his room.

Clay smirked at you before slamming himself back again and letting your ankles go, laying himself on top of your torso as he kept his pace.

“Come on Sweetheart give it to me.” He said while you arched your back the moment he hit that deep spot inside of you.

“Clay.” You moaned. “Wait until she leaves.” You gasped and grabbed his shoulders again, your finely manicured nails pressing into his skin.

“I want to feel you now.” He said while his hand ran down on your stomach.

“Don’t..” You gasped when you couldn’t form your sentence because of his fingers circling slowly around your clit.

Clay heard the door being shut as his mother left the house, making him speed up his movements while you were panting under him, writhing and moaning his name.

“Come.” He whispered while aligning his face with yours. He pressed his lips against yours once again before your hands slid down on his biceps, squeezing the muscle hard as you eased up around him.

“That’s it.” He praised as you felt the fire pool down to your middle, the bubble of pure pleasure exploding inside of you as you threw your head back in ecstasy. 

“Y/N look at me.” He commanded as you tilted your head to look at his face, wanting to just kiss him and lay with him like this for the rest of your lifes.

You felt him easing up inside of you, sighing once you felt him coming. You then wrapped your arms around his shoulders, kissing his lips before rolling you over.

“Hey.” You said while grinning down at him.

He smiled.

“Hey pretty girl.” His hand stroked your back as you kept smiling at him.

You laid your head down on his naked chest as he pulled the covers over you, kissing the top of your head.

He nuzzled his nose into your head while you listened to the soft beats of his heart rate.

“I love you.” He murmured while hugging and pulling you closer.

“I love you more.” You said while smiling into his chest.

“Not possible.”

[bloatedandalone04]

Sound of Your Heart

➪the one where you take care of clay after his surgery.

Warnings: mentions of surgery, descriptions of wounds, swearing, fluff to the max because clay is such a sweetheart and deserves everything good in the world

Word Count: 2.1k

Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡

“Fuck,” Clay grunted as he sat up in bed. His arm instinctively reached out to you, but he found your side of the bed empty. Judging by the indentation and the warmth his hand was met with, he knew you hadn’t been up for long, and it was most likely your absence that caused him to wake up so abruptly. He never could sleep for long without you. “Y/n?” He called out to you, and not even a second later your head was peeking out from the bathroom doorway. 

When you furrowed your brows in question, he reached out for you as he slumped back against the headboard. 

“Baby,”

You were crossing the room instantly after tossing your toothbrush onto the bathroom counter, forgoing your previous plan to brush your teeth so you could instead check on your wounded boyfriend. Sitting on the edge of the bed next to him, you take his hand in yours as you give him a concerned look. “What? What’s the matter, baby?”

He grunted quietly as he placed his free hand against his chest, his fingers picking at the edges of the bandage that was covering his incision mark.

You understood without him actually saying anything and moved closer so you could push away his hair that fell over his forehead. “Is it hurting bad today?” You ask in a soft voice as you move your hand down to massage his shoulder. 

He shook his head a bit as he laced his fingers with yours and squeezed them. “Just sore,” he tried to play it off, but you knew him better than that. He was clearly in pain, but wasn’t telling you just how much, as if that would make him look weak or vulnerable or something. 

You give him an unimpressed look as you reach over to grab his pain meds from off the nightstand. “You don’t need to lie to me, Clay,” you tell him as you grab his hand and place two of the pills onto his palm. “I’ve been with you for how long now? Almost three years? I know when you’re lying, so I’m not sure why you still try to do it to me.”

He huffed and took the glass of water you held out to him from off the nightstand as well. “I’m not lying,” he tried but knew it was no use. You simply knew him too well. Sighing, he took the meds before putting the glass aside. “It’s not bad. It was worse yesterday.”

You nod and run the tip of your finger along the edge of the tape on his chest. “Okay, that’s good,” you murmur and lean down to press a kiss to the skin of where his heart is. “It should only hurt for a few more days, then you’ll be a whole new man.” 

He gave you a boyish grin, your attempt at lightening the mood helping more than you probably knew. “I’m feeling better already,” he said and lifted his arms. “Lay with me.”

You give him a look of warning, one he’s seen you wear a lot since he got off that surgery table. “No,” you reply and move away from him, but he doesn’t drop his arms as he stares at you. “I don’t want to hurt you, that’s why I’m not sleeping on you like I usually do at night. I don’t want to put pressure on your chest.”

He drops his arms to his sides at that as a laugh escapes him. “Oh, so that’s why you won’t touch me when we’re in bed,” he laughed again while you rolled your eyes. “Come here, baby, please? Your rejection is hurting my heart.”

You gasp and lean over to slap his leg through the thin sheet that still covered it. “Don’t say that to me,” you scold but can’t help the grin that took over your face at the sound of his laugh. “God.”

“I’m just kidding,” he assured you and leaned over to place his hands on your waist in a gentle tug. 

“I’m glad you’re feeling well enough to joke around,” you mutter and stay still, despite him trying to pull you onto his lap. 

“Come here,” he nearly begged when you still weren’t giving in to the pull of his hands. “Please? I miss you.” 

You laughed and moved the smallest bit closer to him. “I’ve been by your side for the last eight days, Clay,” you point out and brace yourself by placing your hands on his shoulders and keeping your body away from his chest. “How could you possibly miss me?”

“I miss you all the time,” he answered, leaning forward and running his nose along your collarbone. “I miss feeling you against me. I’m not broken, Y/n, you won’t hurt me if you touch me.”

“I know, but,” you trail off as he gives you a pleading look. You never were good at saying no to him, and he was always way too good at getting you to give in to him. “Fine, but I need you to tell me if it hurts, okay? Promise me.”

Clay lit up at that and leaned back against the headboard, lifting his arms once more. “I promise,” he says quickly. “Come here, sweet girl.”

Of course, you give in. 

Moving to the middle of the bed, you situate yourself so your front is pressing against his side. His arms immediately wrap around you and pull your body closer to his, seeming to be unconcerned about the way he is putting a bit of a strain on his chest. 

If there is one thing Clay liked about needing to take those meds, it was that they kicked in fast. Now he could hold you in his arms and press you up against his chest without feeling any pain at all. 

You settle against him and place your head on his shoulder with a light pressure. “Is this okay?” You ask when he places a kiss on your forehead. “It doesn’t hurt?”

“It doesn’t hurt, baby,” he assures you and holds you a bit tighter against him. 

He missed this. You had been so careful around him, and while he appreciated that and absolutely adored the fact that you didn’t want to hurt him, he craved the physical touch he was used to receiving from you. Your relationship had pretty much been built on touch, whether that be hand holding, kisses on every inch of your skin, or wrapping each other up when it was time for bed. 

Maybe he was greedy, but he had been craving that sense of normalcy ever since he returned home from the hospital. He had finally managed to convince his mother that he was fine and that you were going above and beyond to make sure he was doing well, and all he wanted to do was spend the rest of his recovery process with you in his arms. 

He couldn’t do much, and even getting up to go to the bathroom or changing his clothing proved to be hard tasks at times,but he would gladly toughen up and take that pain rather than have you too afraid to go near him.

“I missed this,” he sighed and placed another kiss on the top of your head. “I missed holding you.”

You smiled up at him. “I missed it, too,” you admitted and placed your hand over his mouth when he leaned down to kiss you. “I haven’t brushed my teeth yet. You interrupted me before I could.”

He scoffed quietly, a teasing grin on his lips. “I don’t care,” he said and moved your hand so he could place a kiss on your mouth. When you pulled away after a quick peck, he groaned. “You’re killing me here.”

You raise a brow and begin to lift yourself up. “What did I say about you joking like that?” 

“No,” he quickly pulled you back down onto him. “I’m sorry. No more, okay?”

Giving him a skeptical look, you settle back against him and gently rub the skin next to the bandage. “I know I’m probably being a bit overbearing right now, but I just worry about you. Plus, your mom calls me everyday to make sure I’m taking proper care of you since you won’t let her,” 

He laughs and the sound vibrates his body against yours. “Yeah, that sounds like her,” he mumbled, running his hand up and down your back. “She gets to pick the surgeon if you get to take care of me. That was the deal, and she chose her doctor friend she’s known for years. Now you get to do your part and look after me.”

“She was very persistent that her friend needed to be the one to do it, huh?”

“That’s my mother for you,” he replied and you laughed. 

“I like your mom,” you mumble. “She doesn’t put up with any bullshit when it comes to you. We have that in common.”

Clay hummed, very aware of just how protective his mom had been over him since he was informed of his condition. “That’s why you and her are the best women in my life,” 

“We’re the only women in your life,” you correct him with a side glance before leaning up to press a kiss to his cheek. “And don’t ever forget that.”

He grinned down at you, reaching one hand up to brush away the hair from your face. “I love you,” 

“I love you more,” you tell him and kiss him on the lips, despite your previous excuse of why you didn’t want to kiss him right now. Honestly, fuck morning breath when your boyfriend is this hot. 

He kisses you back, deepening it as he lets his need for you pour from his mouth to yours. He wasn’t lying when he said he missed touching you, and that included with his lips. 

When he leaned further in, you gently pushed him back against the headboard. “Don’t wear yourself out,” you remind him and trail light kisses from his jaw down to the base of his throat. He refrained from moaning at just how good it felt since he clearly was in no shape to get laid at the moment, and he didn’t want to turn you on then not be able to properly take care of you. “Your meds should be kicking in any minute now and they make you drowsy.”

“I know,” he rasped, tilting his head when you began peppering his neck with quick kisses. “That’s why I hate them. I just woke up and I’m already tired again.”

You hum and pull away from him completely. He opens his mouth in protest, but you silence him with a raise of your hand. “That’s a good thing, it makes you sleep off the pain,” you grinned and lifted yourself off the bed. Clay’s eyes trail up and down your body, his teeth getting caught between his teeth as he takes in the sight of your bare legs. “Don’t look at me like that.”

He lifted a brow as he continued to admire your body. “Like what?”

“That,” you point at him. “Like you want to pounce on me or something.”

“You’re wearing nothing but my shirt, sweet girl,” he stated the obvious as he slumped back against the pillow. “Of course I want to pounce on you. You know I would if I had the energy.”

That had you holding back your own sound of pleasure as you turned towards the door. “There will be a lot more time for that once you’re fully healed,” you really weren’t sure who you were trying to reassure with that one. “Please try to stay awake while I go make your breakfast. You can go back to sleep once it’s done.”

Clay groaned and buried himself under the covers. “I could just go with you,” 

“No way,” you said immediately as you grabbed a pair of sweats to wear around the house. “No leaving that bed unless you absolutely have to. We’ve been over this.”

Clay rolled his eyes as he snuggled into your pillow and inhaled the sweet scent of your conditioner. “Whatever you say, mom,” he mumbled as he tried to keep his eyes open. “I expect you to spend at least another hour in bed with me after breakfast, just so you know.”

You shake your head and open the door, glancing back at him as he burrowed further under the covers. “I wouldn’t have it any other way,”

-

for you, my sweet @everydaydreamer

[samonroegf]

⠀　　⠀　clay beresford | first date hc

clay is super nervous to take you out, he wants everything to be absolutely perfect for you.

he has the entire thing planned out. dinner reservations, calling his favorite florist, and making sure the weather is going to be cool, but not cold. he wants to make sure you're comfortable.

when he picks you up, he's handing you the giant bouquet, thing is basically twice as wide as the boy before you.

he has an awkward smile, a cold sweat crawling up his back. you're just so pretty, all dolled up for him, and he's losing his mind at the sight.

you take them inside before you leave, setting the beautiful florals in a vase matching their beauty.

his hand is a bit clammy against yours, when you hold hands. they're warm though, encompassing your cold ones.

he opens the door to the limo for you, allowing to slide past him. there's soft conversations between the two of you, small questions about your lives.

when you get to the restaurant, he opens the door for you. both the limo and the restaurant. he's a complete gentleman, wrapping your arm around his as he leads you to the table. having had the restaurant bought out, so nothing could possibly go wrong.

the time at the restaurant was so calm and confident. making sure you felt involved in the conversation. double checking that your meal, making sure you're happy. knowing you're too kind to tell the waiter you don't like it.

the hour passes by like minutes, and you're falling deeper for clay as the time proceeds. he was happy to make sure the night goes perfectly.

when he drives you back to your place, he gives you a very soft kiss.

“thank you for the perfect date, doll. you look so pretty for me,” his hand rests on your cheek.

his lips enveloping yours once more, before he slips away in the darkness.

with the ghost of his lips against yours you hope he calls you soon

[sockiess]

OFFICIAL MASTERLIST

Requests: Open! (please request things!)

Sam Monroe:

Love is a gentle thing

So Rich, So Pretty

A rebel without a clue

Piercing

Hey Emo Boy! (NSFW)

Pregnancy

we might as well just fuck (NSFW)

Excuse me?

Clay Beresford:

Best day of the year (NSFW)

Scott Barringer:

Listen to Iron Maiden with me

Pretty girl

Spiderman! Scott Barringer

Nail Polish

Frenemies part 1

Frenemies part 2

Hickeys

Idiots in love

So kiss me

Tatted Up

Anakin Skywalker:

Nerdy Boy

[bunnie-online]

hello hello~! just wanted to give y'all a little update

thanks for 100 followers! i appreciate it sm!! i haven't written in a while and i'm so glad you guys are enjoying it!!

heres what i'm currently working on!

anakin:

kiss land (modern!anakin takes you on a joy ride. it's also pt.2 to this ask hehe)

nobody's son, nobody's daughter (hurt/comfort, arguing with anakin after a rough day)

ride, cowgirl. (no plot just horny)

stuffies (ani gifting you a stuffie awww! fluffy fluff fluff)

sunday morning. (even more fluff! waking up with ani is sooo sweet.)

sam monroe:

sensitive (pt. 2 to this ask i got)

clay beresford

• last one standing (VERY ooc!clay. half plot half porn, halloween special)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

thanks so much for your patience y'all!

~bunnie

[kingdomhate]

Happiness and Tears (Part Four)

Jack looks from Penny to Puttnam, his expression pleading. "Listen, I'm not going through with this. Clay is my friend!" Penny rolls her eyes and Puttnam looks away. "I'm not doing this.." Penny looks away and then snaps her head back. "Look, you would still be sent to jail either way. It was your idea." Penny argues, her eyes on fire.

Clay's eyes, the only part of his body he can move due to the anesthesia, flicker frantically back and forth. "What the.... how can this happen?! What about Y\N?! We're gonna get married!" Clay screams, but it's all in his head. His jaw is completely paralyzed. Clay could feel the tears pricking in his eyes, the thought of dying, like this... You'd never know. How can people you've known for a good while be so heartless? The feeling of nausea stopping Clay from attempting to fight the paralision.

"Penny, he's not even awake!" Jack practically screams, his eyes desperate but determined. "How could you actually carry this out if he's not awake? He doesn't know!" As Clay listens, he can feel himself moving, his hands coming to his face, ripping off the tape on his eyes, removing the IV's and sitting up. All while Jack, Puttnam and Penny argue.

Clay stands up, his eyes red and puffy as the tears settle and reduce, replaced by pure rage. He looks down at the surgery table, to see himself, eyes open and wide, but body paralyzed on the table, chest open. Clay abandons the sight to circle around a pleading Jack, "How could you have come up with this idea?!" Clay demands, but he knows Jack cannot hear him. With a heavy and remorseful sigh, Clay sulks out of the room, his feet hitting the cold, hospital tile floor with a sense of hopelessness. But the hopelessness is not why he's walking down this hallway for, no, it's you.

Clay makes his way to the waiting sections, and he sees you as well as his mother, you both were sitting next to each other, your bag clutched tightly in your hands, so much so your knuckles were white. His mother was in no better condition; her face was red and puffy, her lipstick slightly smeared, no doubt due to how many times she's wiped her forehead in pure agony. Clay approaches you, his heart filled with nothing but love and helplessness. He slowly places his hand on your cheek, trying his best to manage a soothing caress, but he could see his hand shaking as it made contact with your angelic skin. "I'm sorry." He whispers, bending down in front of you, taking your hand in his. "I'm sorry we couldn't live the life we wanted, the life you deserved." He squeezed your hand, the tear in his eye falling to the floor.

"I'm so sorry, Y\N..." Clay looks at you, his eyes as remorseful as he reminisced his visions of everytime he ever saw you. His eyes frantically snapping shut as he leaned back, sitting on the tile in front of you, his knees up to his chest as his hands tangle in his hair. Sobbing, he mutters sorry over and over. His head jerks up, his eyes stopping at his mother as he tries to imagine what his mother would say. What would she say? "Remember, Clayton, you are nothing like your father." No, that's not what he needs.. "Clayton, where do you think you would be if you did not have to suffer some kind of pain?"

Was that it? Clayton stood up, spun around and practically ran back to the operating room. ".....Inject it." Penny's voice commanded. Clayton threw the door open and walked back to see himself on the operating table, again. Jack took the heart, a syringe handed to him by Puttnam and hesitated shortly before injected it. Clay's anger was fueled yet again.

Your POV

You have been waiting for what seemed like forever, before you see Jack approach you, and you jump up, meeting him halfway."Is he alright? Is he safe? Please tell me he's okay, please.." Jack's face was solemn, despite your best attempts at pleading. Lilith did not get up, but she watched closely. "I'm sorry, Y\N. I really am." Your world crashed. Everything became distorted as Jack went to put a reassuring hand on your shoulder. You sunk to your knees, hand in your hair. Lilith rose to her feet, striding over to the both of you. "Listen here. You get back in there and save my son." She commands, voice a deadly low. "I'm sorry, ma'am. We can't. It was a bad heart." Lilith's teeth clench. "I said, go save my son." She says, her voice as firm and stern as ever. Jack just stands there for a moment, before trying again, but Lilith turns to you. "Come here." She commands and you get to your feet and follow her. "Get me one of Clay's pill bottles." She says, extending her arm.

"What? M-Miss Beresford, I c-" Stopped short by Lilith's intense gaze as she turned her eyes to yours. "Now." She growls. Your hands shake before reaching down into your bag and grabbing a random pill bottle, handing it entirely to her. She takes it, looks at you once more before going to the cafeteria area. "One coffee." She places the right amount of money on the counter and goes to a table, sitting down and resting her head against the pure white concrete pillar conveniently placed next to her.

Jack doesn't bother staying for any longer, sensing that you need time to yourself and heads back to the operating table. He was ashamed of himself. More than he'd ever been. He killed a man. An innocent one. One he had befriending, one who was scheduled to be married. Just starting his life, getting ready. A tear prickles at the sight of Clay, eyes lifeless under the tape, and chest opened, the heart he poisoned not beating. How could he have done this? For the debt, to repay it. Penny smiles at him, Puttnam going outside to find Dr. Lupin, still on the phone somewhere near the waiting area.

"You did good. No one will know." Penny promises him, the smile vibrant on her twisted face. Jack knows, and the words stab his heart like he stabbed the syringe into the perfectly healthy heart that was supposed to help Clay. Lilith was handed her coffee, and she looked at the pill bottle in her hands, before opening it, and popping one. Then two. Three. Four. The whole bottle. Then drinking the coffee. It was all only a matter of time. In minutes, Clay was looming over his lifeless body again, shaking his head.

He began walking home, leaving the hospital, and once he did, everything came back to him. The epiphany of knowing he died because a group of doctors he trusted planned all along to kill him. He opened the door to his house, and began ascending the stairs, curling up on his bed, his hands folded below between head and pillow.

As his eyes slowly closed and sleep consumed him, he heard a familiar voice. "Hey, Clay." His mother said, and Clay's eyes opened immediately. "What are you doing here?" He looked at his mother's figure in the bedside chair, a soft smile on her face. "You need to come back." Clay scoffed lightly. "How? In case you haven't noticed, I'm dead, Ma." Lilith looks at him seriously. "And what about Y\N? Are you just going to leave her all alone?" Clay frowns. "How, Mom? How can I go back to her if my heart is poisoned?" Lilith smiles, leaning forward in her chair. "I'm here. You go back. Use my heart." Clay stops, his eyes gazing into hers intently. "Mom...."

You sit down and then see the doctors rush out, and they stop at you. "Where's Lilith?" They question at once and then stop as they see Dr, Neyer, Lilith's surgeon boyfriend, walks out with Lilith's dead body. "What happened?!" Penny questions but Dr. Neyer pushes passed and starts for the Operating Room, pulling up another table, placing Lilith on it and getting ready in his doctor attire, squeezing on his gloves and mask, he uses a scalpel to open Lilith's chest. "And what do you think you're doing?" Puttnam says, wanting to step in. Penny stops him and glares at Jack, before they both began to make a break for it. Jack stays for a few more seconds and then heads to his office.

Dr. Neyer transfers Lilith's heart into Clay and the poisoned one into Lilith. Dr. Lupin comes back inside. "What'd I- Oh, hello!" He says with a bit of a chuckle, oblivious to the situation. "Get over here." Dr. Neyer instructs and Dr. Lupin complies, grabbing a fresh pair of gloves and putting them on. "Ready the electric shock." Dr. Neyer instructs, and once more, Lupin complies. Dr. Neyer diligently works on rewiring the heart into the empty spot of Clay's chest. A minute or so later, he notices the heart isn't beating, he instructs Lupin to initiate the electric shock and it doesn't work. "Again." Neyer commands and the electric shock is initiated again, and again and over again, boosted up and then seemingly not working. "I'm sorry, sir... he's gone." Lupin says solemnly. But Neyer demands the electric shock again.

The police are called to the scene, as you call them, under the suspicion something was not right. Especially after seeing Dr. Carver and Dr. Puttnam bolting down the staircase together. The police arrive and search, to your surprise, the two doctors are caught and arrested, apparently after a police offer separately talked to Jack, who spilled everything. Hearing the news stopped your heart, and you couldn't believe ANY of it. But there it was, as clear as day, the evidence and confession.

Minutes after the police arrest Penny, Puttnam and Jack, Dr. Neyer emerges, a happy but tired smile on his face. "We did it." He announces to you, and you tilt your head before realizing; Lilith asked for those pills so she could could save Clay. Tears ran hot down your cheeks as you hugged the surgeon. It was over. An hour later, you were allowed to see Clay.

"Hey, gorgeous." He smiles and you sniffle, wrapping a gentle arm around him, kissing him feverishly. "What's wrong?" He asks, but you decide not to tell him. Not now. "I love you." You tell him, kissing him once more and intertwining your hands together on the recovery bed. "So much." He smiles at you, squeezing your hand. "I love you more."

*2 1\3 hours after initially being pronounced dead by doctors Harper, Carver and Puttnam, Clay would survive his heart transplant.*

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This took an hour and a half!

Tags:

@darthgloris

@sweetcheesecakesblog

@haydenpookiebear

[anakinstwinklebunny]

TW: crazy Clayton Beresford because there's so little of him on this app

Author's note: reminding everyone interested about bunnycember :)

You sat on the floor of CLAYTON'S BERESFORD office, your heart pounding with nervousness. The air felt thick in your lungs with everything that had happened between you two over the last year. The sound of soft rustling of papers and the ticking of the clock on the wall opoosite you did nothing to calm your nerves..excitement

You were on your knees, the cool wood beneath you a stark contrast to the heat already building in your core. Between your lips, you held the report you were supposed to deliver..at this point, it was a tradition - you bringing the report in each the most sexual possible way and him in return, thanking you in the most pleasurable, delicious way the boss could thank his devoted secretary

oh, how you loved to be his secretary

Clayton's gaze was heavy on you as he sat behind his massive, sleek desk, his eyes dark with something more intense than any regular business interaction. His jaw clenched, those sharp blue eyes tracking your every moment as you began crawling towards him like a cat. His control was like a tightly wound coil, ready to snap at any moment. The muscles in his arms flexed as he gripped the arms of the chair, his perfectly tailored suit doing little to hide the strenght beneath

He loved to watch you like this - vulnerable, submitting to his silent command without needing a word. It was intoxicating to him - the power he held over you without trying, how he didn't need to say anything to make you do things, even the most disturbing ones

"Come here, sweetheart" his voice finally broke the silence, low and rough. That familiar, dangerous edge sent a shiver down your spine "bring me that report"

Your knees brushed against the floor when you reached the beloved desk and lifted your face to meet his eyes. You could see this familiar hunger in his gaze, how his nostrils flared slighty as you sat up on your knees, our lips releasing the file to carefully handle it to clay's hand

"good girl" he looked at the file that had lipstain of your lipstick you always wore to work before tossing it carelessly on the desk. His large hand reached out, cupping your chin gently, forcing you to keep your eyes on him "Is this how my reports are supposed to be delivered now? On your knees, like the obedient little thing you are?"

You could barely contain the heat pooling between your thighs when his thumb traced your bottom lip, smearing the lipstick over your mouth "yes, Mr.Beresford" you whispered, your voice barely above a breath. knowing how much he loved to hear you call him that

"good girl" he repeated the praise in a low, smooth rumble that seemed dangerously calm. The constant praise made your body tingle all way around with the thrill of it - you were his good girl. He saw you as his good girl..

His thumb pushed between your lips, and on an instant, your tongue twirled around the digit as if it was something else you would have in your mouth

"You like teasing me like this?" you swore you could see him getting already hard "walking into my office, looking like you want me to bend you over this desk?"

"Yes, Mr. Beresford" you whispered before he pulled out his wet thumb in your saliva

this was it.

"Stand up" he ordered

You obediently rose, legs a little shaky as if your whole body already was prepared what was to come, as if it knew perfectly what was about to come. Before you could actually take a breath in, Clay was behind you. His hands were on your hips, tugging your skirt up roughly over your ass, exposing the lace panties you knew would drive him insane. His touch was firm, his fingers digging into your skin as he pressed himself against your back, his hardness unmistakable against your butt

"What am i going to do with you?" he whispered his breath hot against your ear, making you melt, making you gulp, making you feel this delicious excitement mixed with nervousness pooling in your belly

One of his hands slid lower, slipping beneath the thin lace of your panties, teasing the slickness between your thighs with his thumb that just seconds ago, was in your mouth "so wet already.."

you moaned softly, your head tilting back against his chest as his finger slid through your folds, teasing but never quite giving you what you needed

"I've got a meeting in a few minutes" he murmured, pressing a kiss to your neck, then biting down gently, making you gasp "And here you were, on your knees, begging me to fuck you"

"I'msorry, sir.." you whimpered, knowing full well he didn't want an apology

"No, you're not" he growled, pulling his hand away just as quickly as he'd begun. He bended you over the desk, with no care about the papers and other stuff there was. He deliberately made sure your ass was exposed and in a quick moment his hand came down on your butt in a sharp smack, the sting of it spreading through your body like wildfire

you let out a soft cry, the sudden heat making you arch against him. He spanked you again, harder this time, the sound of it echoing through the office

"That's what you deserve, isn't it?" his voice was rough, a touch of amusement in his tone as he watched you squirm under his touch - no pulling away, no crying, begging him to stop - just arching yourself to him as if already inviting him to do whatever he wanted with you, that was your obedience

"You love it when i punish you like this" came out more as a statement rather than a question

You could barely form words, the sharp sting of his hand and the overwhelming heat between your legs making you already dizzy "Y-yes, Mr. Beresford.."

He pulled down your panties in one swift movement, the lace sliding down your legs before he tossed them aside carelessly. His hand came down on your bare ass again, the force of it making you cry out

"If you were mine" he whispered darkly, his hand roughly kneading your red ass cheeks "you wouldn't be able to sit down for a week"

You whimpered at his words, the promise of it sending a shudder through your body. But all you could do was cling to the desk, your breath coming in shaky gasps as he slowly unbuckled his belt behind you, the sound of metal clinking making your heart race. You could hear the sound of his zipper, the rustle of his pants as he freed himself, and then you felt him - thick, hot, pressing against your soaked entrance

He teased you for a moment longer, rubbing the head of his cock against your ass before pushing into you slowly - you were already trembling, every nevr ending on fire as he filled you inch by inch until you were sure you couldn't tale any more

He groaned low in his throat, his hands gripping your hips as he stilled, letting you adjust to the sheer size of him

"So tight.." he groaned, his fingers digging into your plush hips as he held you in place, stretching you until you were gasping, your body clenching around him so beautifully, so perfeclty like always "You feel so damn good, sweetheart.."

"Mr. Beresford.." you moaned, the sensation almost too much to handle

At the sound of his name, leaving your mouth as if you sang a prayer, he began to move, slow at first. His hips rolled into you with a steady rhythm that had you panting even more, eyes rolling behind your head in ecstacy. Each thrust made the desk creak beneath you, and you swore only him could make you feel like this. Like you were on the cloud nine, floating in the air, feeling so light, so perfect

His hand slipped around the front, fingers finding your clit and rubbing slow, lazy circles, just enough to drive you completely insane

"Such a pretty little thing.." he murmured "But so fucking bad, distracting me like this when i have meetings to attend"

"Mr.Beresford--" you gasped, trying to hold onto something, anything (which led to the papers falling on the floor) while he continued to take you, each thrust pushing you cloer and closer to the edge

"That's right baby.." he whimpered, his grip on your hips tightening as he pushed you harder against the desk "Say my name. Let me hear how good I'm fucking you"

"Mr.Beresford..Clay.." you moaned, your voice barely a whisper when your body began to trmeble, the pleasure building to an unbearable level

"You love this, don't you?" his pace picked up, moving in and out of you faster, harder "Love being fucked by your boss, righ here in the office"

His pace was relentless, each thrust sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body, not mentioning his fingers that were touching your swollen folds. His free hand came down on your ass again, harder than the last time. You could barely think, could barely breathe, yet you still held to not to come until you get permission to - by CLAYTON BERESFORD himself

"come for me baby" finally "Come all over my cock"

that was all it took, all you needed to hear. Your orgasm hit you like a tidal wave, your body clenching around him when you bite your lower lip to not scream his name out loud - letting only a long, plesant moan. Clayton moaned almost painfully as you tightened around him (not really caring about making noise), his own release following soon after, spilling into you so deliciously before he thrusted one last time, burying himself deep inside you for the last time, as if to memorize how perfect your core hugged his lenght

For a moment, the only sound in the office was the heavy breathing of both of you. He pulled out slowly, his hands sliding over your hips, his touch now gentler as he helped you stand and even dress up. Your mind barely proceded the fact that he's no longer inside of you, but now tenderly helping you dress up on your shaky legs

He kissed the back of your neck softly, his large hands smoothing down your skirt as if nothing had just happened "Now" he murmured, his voice back to its usual calm, controlled tone "we have a meeting to attend"

You could barely think straight, let alone walk, yet somehow you managed a breathless smile "Yes, Mr. Beresford"

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[andshesaidwhat]

Cherry - Clay Beresford

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six |

Summary: After a bad shift at the club leaves you shaken, you make the decision to call the number that Clay had left you — effectively changing the boundaries of your interactions forever.

Warnings: unprotected sex, penetrative sex, fingering (reader receiving), handjob (Clay receiving), nipple play, teasing, lots of praise, multiple orgasms (Clay and reader receiving), angst, alcohol consumption, mentions of food, descriptions of sex work, brief mention of a deceased family member, a lil glimpse of some domestic fluff.

Playlist | Masterlist

You had stared at Clay’s phone number more than you hadn’t over the last week.

You had it memorized at this point. You could recite it in your sleep, envisioning the quirks of his handwriting and the specific ways he wrote the numbers.

Everything in you wanted to call him, even if it was just to hear his voice. You had even caved and admitted to yourself that you wanted to hear another one of his whimsically poetic stories.

It was killing you slowly, but you had fought with everything in you to resist the urge. You knew that if you gave into the temptation there would be no going back. Once that line was crossed, you wouldn’t be able to recover those boundaries.

Still, the urge grew worse with everyday that passed by without him showing back up to the club.

Maybe he’d decided to keep his distance unless you called — taking it as a sign of you rejecting his advances. Or, maybe he was just busy with work.

You hoped it was the latter.

The thought of never seeing Clay again was something you couldn’t let yourself think about. It felt too devastating, too indicative of the attachment you’d unwittingly formed to him.

You showed up to the club for your Friday shift, feeling distracted and detached. Those ten digits were dancing in your mind like a taunt, a tease.

You went through the motions of your first set on autopilot, knowing you weren’t at your best. It didn’t seem to matter much as the bills came flying in.

Of course, they didn’t care about the time, effort, and artistry that went in to performing like you and the other dancers did. All that mattered to them was that your clothes came off.

You walked off the stage once you finished, trying to get a hold of yourself. Your emotions were all over the place. This was not a usual problem for you. You normally couldn’t care less about these things, but Clay’s presence had shattered your usual way of living.

His absence had made it even worse.

You sat at your station, holding your head in your hands, as Sal walked up behind you. He gave you a once over, furrowing his brow in a look that bordered on concern before shaking his head.

“You’ve got a private booking,” he told you. “Room four.”

Your ears perked up as your heart fluttered, a small glimmer of hope sparking inside of you. Sal walked away as you looked in the mirror, trying to conceal your smile while you quickly touched up your appearance.

You all but ran down the hallway, the anticipation growing as you got closer to your destination. You opened the door, ready to meet those dazzling blue eyes again — to hear his stories, to answer his questions.

Your heart plummeted to the floor and your stomach twisted into knots as you were instead met with a dark, lust-filled stare. You recognized the man — a semi-regular who always tried to cop a feel of the dancers when they’d walk past him.

His eyes raked over your figure, like a predator sizing up its prey. His twisted smile made you feel nauseous. He watched you, expectantly — sprawled out on the couch as he waited for you to give him a show.

You used to be able to do this easily. You could compartmentalize the disgust, dance for them, turn them on so they turned out their pockets.

It was a business, an art that you had perfected.

Now, it just felt so wrong. Being in this room, your room, seeing some sleazy man sitting in the spot that Clay should be sitting in…

You didn’t want to do this. You couldn’t do this.

Your breathing felt shallow as your chest tightened. You couldn’t seem to focus on anything. You couldn’t bring yourself to push through it.

You turned around and rushed out of the room, unable to hear the man’s complaints and protests over the ringing in your ears.

Barely registering your surroundings, you changed and grabbed your things. You muttered something to Sal about being sick and told him to take the fee for the private room out of your next check before leaving the club.

You got back to your apartment, pacing the floors as you tried to calm yourself down. You didn’t know what was happening to you. This had never been a problem before, but now…

Now there was him.

You fished through your bag, pulling out the crumpled piece of paper. You stared at it, gnawing on the inside of your cheek as you warred with yourself.

You dialed the number, your thumb hovering over the call button.

I shouldn’t do this, you thought. There will be no going back.

Before you could finish talking yourself out of it, you pressed the button. You raised the phone up to your ear, holding your breath as it rang. Your heart pounded in your chest, each second that passed feeling like a lifetime.

You were about to hang up and forget about the whole thing when you heard him pick up.

“Hello?” Clay’s voice rang out from the other line. Your mouth opened and closed, unable to form any words as you panicked. He waited for a moment and then said, “Cherry? Is that you?”

The anxiety you’d felt instantly quelled at the sound of his voice. You didn’t want to think about what that meant.

“Hey, pretty boy,” you said, grimacing at the way your voice trembled. “I hope it’s okay that I called.”

“Of course it’s okay,” he replied, the smile evident in the way he spoke. “I had been hoping that you would.” He paused, hesitating before he asked, “Are you alright? Is something wrong?”

For once, you couldn’t bring yourself to pretend that things were okay — that you weren’t affected. You couldn’t keep up the carefully crafted facade you’d spent years creating. Something in the way he spoke, the genuine concern in his tone, cracked through your stone walls.

Your bottom lip quivered as you said, “I don’t know.”

“What happened, Cherry?” Clay asked, gently. “I’m here to listen, whatever it is.”

“I, um…I was working my shift at the club, and…” Your voice broke off as you huffed out a shaky breath. You weren’t used to this — being vulnerable with someone. Your hands shook as you tried to open up for the first time in years. “I was told that I had a private booking and I thought it was you, but it wasn’t… It was this creep that comes in sometimes. Normally, I can push through it. It was just…the way he looked at me. It was like I wasn’t a person, like I was just some object that he owned for the hour. I didn’t like being in there with him — not in our room and…I just couldn’t do it this time. I couldn’t bring myself to do it.”

“I’m so sorry,” he said, softly. “I can’t imagine how that must have felt for you.”

You swallowed down the lump in your throat as you took a deep breath and said, “I chose my job. I don’t regret it. It allowed me to survive, to provide for myself. I just…thought about you. I thought about your stories. I started thinking that, maybe, I want to write a better story for myself.”

Clay let out a breath, sounding like a sigh of relief, as he said, “You can write any story you want.”

Blinking back tears, you nodded to yourself. Something about his encouragement made you believe it.

“I think I want…” You trailed off, not fully sure what you were even saying. “I mean, if you wanted…if you weren’t busy and you wanted…I told you once I liked to cook and…”

Clay laughed softly and said, “Go on.”

“Would you want to…” You paused, taking a deep breath as you decided to put yourself out on the line. “Would you want to come over? I could cook dinner.”

“I would love to,” Clay responded, immediately.

A relieved sigh escaped your lips as a small smile grew on your face. You bit your lip, trying to contain your giddiness.

“Good. That’s good,” you said, awkwardly, internally cringing at yourself. Clay just chuckled, his deep voice sounding light and airy. “I can text you the details and everything.”

“Alright, that sounds perfect,” he said, the smile evident in his voice. “I’ll be looking forward to it. I’ll see you soon, Cherry.”

“I’ll see you soon, pretty boy,” you whispered back, listening to the silence as the call ended.

You put the phone down, squealing to yourself. The events of the day were nearly forgotten, now replaced by the excitement you felt.

Clay was going to be in your home.

Oh god…Clay was going to be in your home.

You looked around your apartment, beginning to panic as you started to frantically clean. You’d never had anyone come over and you suddenly felt the need to make sure every surface was spotless.

This was going to be much different than meeting him in the club. When you were there, you could keep pretending that you were just two strangers dancing in your little bubble. Inviting him into your home meant inviting him into your life.

You could only hope you wouldn’t end up regretting it.

A few hours later, dinner was finishing up in the oven as you waited for Clay to arrive. The nerves swarmed like bees in your stomach, each second feeling like an eternity.

Your heart leapt in your chest as you heard the soft sound of Clay knocking at your door.

This is it, you thought, there’s no going back.

You rubbed your shaky hands against your pants, realizing that this would be the first time he’d see you in real clothes. Somehow, you felt more naked now than you did in the lingerie. You couldn’t help but wonder if he’d still like you when you weren’t the incarnation of a fantasy.

Taking a deep breath, you opened the door and met those dazzling blue eyes.

“Hi,” you breathed, feeling all of the nerves dissipate.

“Hi,” Clay smiled, holding out a small bouquet of flowers in one hand and a bottle of champagne in the other. “I didn’t know if the champagne was still a requirement, so I brought it just in case.”

“Thank you,” you laughed, softly, turning your head to hide your blush as you took the flowers from him. You stepped back, holding the door open as you said, “Come on in.”

You held your breath and watched as he walked in to your apartment, looking around with a small smile. He seemed to be taking in every detail and you were grateful that you’d taken the time to clean.

“You have a lovely place,” he spoke, after a moment, turning to you with a look that you couldn’t quite decipher. “It feels like a real home.”

You looked around, too, imagining seeing it through his eyes. It showed him more about you, you supposed. You had little knickknacks and decorations scattered about, hinting to little pieces of your personality.

“It’s nothing much, really,” you shrugged, looking down. It was a simple one bedroom apartment, small and cozy. “It’s probably not nearly as big as you’re accustomed to.”

“Bigger doesn’t mean better, Cherry,” he said, a hint of longing in his voice. Then, with a cheeky grin, he added, “Well, in most cases, at least.”

With a playful roll of your eyes you led him into your small kitchen as you said, “Dinner is almost ready.”

You grabbed a jug of water out of the fridge, pouring some of it out before sticking the flowers in it. You noticed the way Clay raised a brow at your actions and said, “What? I don’t have any vases. I don’t exactly get flowers often.”

Clay chuckled, shaking his head as he said, “Well, I suppose we’ll have to invest in some. Though, the water jug does add character.”

He set the bottle of champagne down on the small kitchen table and leaned against the counter, watching you as you grabbed some oven mitts and turned off the timer.

You were very aware of his gaze on you as you opened the oven, nearly dropping the dish as you pulled it out and set it on the stove.

Clay inhaled deeply, closing his eyes as he hummed to himself.

“That smells amazing, Cherry,” he groaned, gazing hungrily at the steaming dinner. “You’re an incredible chef.”

“You haven’t even tried it yet, pretty boy,” you giggled, grabbing plates and glasses to set the table.

“I guess I just trust your abilities implicitly,” he said, playfully.

He took the initiative to help you set everything out, putting on the oven mitts himself to carry the dish of food over. He poured the champagne as you filled the plates with food, the two of you working in tandem naturally.

As you both sat down, you held your breath as you watched Clay pick up his fork. His eyes widened as he took a bite of the food, looking up to meet yours with a twinkle of delight.

“I was right,” he smiled, nodding his head in confirmation. “This is delicious.”

“Well, I’m glad I haven’t poisoned you,” you joked, trying to deflect from the way his compliment made your heart skip.

He took a sip of the champagne and asked, “Where did you learn to cook like this?”

There was a small pang in your chest as you quietly responded, “My grandmother.”

“She must be quite exceptional if she taught you to make food this good,” he smiled, taking another bite.

“Yeah,” you nodded, solemnly. “She was.”

Clay’s eyes flickered with understand as he said, “I’m sorry, Cherry.” He paused, considering his words carefully. “Do you want to tell me about her?”

“That’s a story for another day, pretty boy,” you told him, smiling sadly.

“Another day, then,” he said, softly. As he continued to eat, he glanced around the apartment again, changing the subject. “You’ve created a wonderful space here.”

“It’s the first place that’s ever been mine,” you shrugged, looking around with a proud gleam in your eyes. “It may not be much, but it’s enough for me.”

“It’s perfect, Cherry,” he said, that look of longing returning to his face. “It feels safe and warm. It means a lot to me that you’d let me in.”

You held his gaze for a moment longer before the sheer emotion flowing between you two became too overwhelming.

As you finished dinner, you started to gather the plates and bring them to the sink. Clay didn’t hesitate to help, grabbing the other dishes and rolling up his sleeves to wash them.

“Oh, you really don’t have to do that,” you said, sheepishly.

“I insist,” he responded firmly, but kind. “You made me a wonderful dinner. Please, let me help.”

You nodded, silently, watching him move around your apartment with ease. It all felt dangerously domestic, filling you with a warmth you weren’t familiar with. It was oddly natural, being with him in this way. The simplicity felt so much more intimate than anything else you’d done.

He washed the dishes while you dried them, and you couldn’t help but steal glances at him. He looked so human. His black sweater was rolled up to his elbows as his hands were covered in suds. In the dim kitchen lighting, he looked beautiful. More beautiful than you had ever seen him.

“You can stare as long as you want, you know,” he grinned, turning his head to catch your eye. “I don’t mind.”

You bit your lip, looking down at the plate you were drying to hide the blush that warmed your cheeks.

“I was just looking at the suds you’ve got on your nose,” you shrugged, smiling bashfully.

“Mhm, sure,” he nodded, chuckling softly as he turned off the sink. “There. All done.”

“Thank you for your help,” you said, softly, turning to him, “and thank you for coming over tonight.”

“The pleasure was all mine, Cherry,” he smiled. “I had a wonderful time.” He reached out to gently grab your chin, tilting your head up to look at him. “I hope there are many more nights like this.”

You gasped as your eyes met his. Those goddamn eyes could reel you in every single time. You couldn’t bring yourself to look away.

“Remember when I told you my favorite color was blue?” you asked, quietly.

“Yes,” Clay nodded, his voice a whisper. “Why do you ask?”

“I didn’t mean blue like the ocean,” you breathed. “I meant blue like your eyes. I don’t think I had a favorite color until I looked into them.”

Clay’s breath hitched, his gaze swimming with a newfound intensity.

“You’re…beautiful, Cherry,” he whispered, cupping your cheek as his thumb caressed your skin.

You couldn’t help but lean into the warmth of his gentle touch, feeling your heart racing in your chest. He glanced down at your lips before meeting your eyes again.

Slowly, he lowered his head, pressing his lips against yours in a soft embrace. You sighed into the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck.

Clay’s hands found your waist, pulling you into him as he deepened the kiss. His tongue teased your lips, requesting entrance that you gladly granted. Your hands tangled in his hair, feeling the soft locks as he groaned into your mouth. His breathing was labored as you pressed further into him, kissing him like he was feeding the oxygen into your lungs.

He pulled back, resting his forehead against yours as he gazed at you breathlessly.

“Cherry…” he whispered, his voice raw with desire and unsaid emotion.

The intensity in his gaze, the feelings flowing within it, nearly made your knees buckle. He looked at you like he needed you, like nothing else in the world could ever matter more than this moment.

Don’t run away. Don’t run away. Don’t run away.

You didn’t know if you were mentally pleading to yourself, or to him. All of your instincts screamed to put your walls back up, to block anyone out, to keep a hardened shell around your heart.

You didn’t want to do that anymore. This was worth the risk. He was worth the risk.

You kept your gaze locked on his as you reached for his hand, leading him back toward your bedroom.

Clay followed willingly, his breaths coming out shaky. He squeezed your hand, looking at you with a mixture of apprehension and adoration as he asked, “Are you sure, Cherry?”

You held his face in your hands, gazing up into his eyes. Looking at him like this, it all made sense. For a moment, all of your fears and doubts seemed to vanish.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything,” you breathed.

The smile that grew on Clay’s face was enough to stop your heart.

“Then I’m yours,” he whispered.

He kissed you with a new intensity, not an ounce of hesitation in the action. Your fists clutched the front of his shirt, pulling him closer to you as your lips moved against his. Clay moaned softly, sliding his hands up your back to press your body into his.

You let your tongue tease his bottom lip as you slipped your hands beneath his shirt, feeling the taut skin that stretched across rippling muscles. Your fingernails gently scratched against the sensitive skin of his hips.

Clay groaned, arching into your touch as his grip on you tightened. He broke the kiss, panting heavily as he looked at you with hooded eyes.

“Is this what you want?” he asked, his voice thick with desire.

“I want this off,” you whispered against his lips, tugging impatiently at the material of his shirt.

He lifted his arms, letting you take it off as his muscles flexed. You took your time, letting your eyes travel along every inch of exposed skin. Desire swelled in the pit of your stomach as you rubbed your hands across his chest.

“You’re exquisite, pretty boy,” you breathed, looking up at him again.

“Exquisite?” Clay echoed, swallowing thickly as he reacted to your touch.

You trailed your fingers down the rivets in his abdomen, stopping at the waistband of his jeans. You toyed with the button, keeping your eyes locked on his.

Clay let out a shaky breath, his body trembling as he waited for your next move.

Slowly, you pulled his zipper down and pushed his jeans down his legs. You couldn’t help but drink in the sight of him. The contrast of his muscular build against his tight, black boxer briefs was enough to make you drool.

“Fuck, pretty boy,” you whispered, your eyes still roaming his body. “You’re goddamn work of art.”

Clay groaned, a blush of his own dusting his cheeks as he breathed, “You’re killing me, Cherry.”

You slowly removed your own clothes, smirking as Clay’s breath hitched the moment he caught a glimpse of that red lingerie set.

“See?” you grinned. “I told you. Just for you.”

“Jesus Christ…” Clay whispered, his eyes raking over your figure. He stepped toward you, reaching out to trace his fingers over the red lace. His eyes were filled with need and his voice was hoarse with desire as he looked up at you and asked, “Can you also be just for me?”

You gasped, feeling your body react to the slightest of touches from him. His question made your heart stutter. He didn’t go any further, waiting for your response.

“Is that what you want?” you asked, balancing on the precipice of vulnerability.

Clay held your face in his hands, his gaze filled with longing as he said, “More than anything, Cherry.”

The conviction in his voice nearly knocked all of the breath out of your lungs. Your mind wandered back to the feeling you’d gotten when you’d read the note he’d left you at the club. ‘Your pretty boy’, he had written. You’d dwelled on those three words everyday since, realizing that the thought of being his and him being yours didn’t sound so awful. You’d never thought that kind of relationship was something you were capable of but, gazing up at him now, you were starting to believe it could be.

You couldn’t find the words to say, to tell him that maybe you wanted all of the same things he wanted. Instead, you pressed your lips against his to seal the deal. You tangled your fingers in his hair, pulling his face closer to yours as you kissed him desperately. It was raw and heated and needy. You needed him. You wanted to be his completely.

Clay responded to the urgency, his large hands finding purchase on your hips as he pulled you into him. His kiss was explosive, filled with raw passion and devotion as his tongue tasted yours.

He pulled back, slightly, his eyes locked on yours as he gave you a small smile. His hands wandered further down until he gripped the backs of your thighs, lifting you up and carrying you toward the bed. He gently laid you down, lowering himself onto you.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, bringing his lips back down to yours. Clay groaned into the kiss, shifting his hips as you felt his erection press against you. You could feel his heartbeat against yours, joining together in a song of passion.

“I need you,” Clay breathed, pulling back to gaze down at you with desire.

With a grin you rolled the two of you over so that you were the one on top. You straddled his hips, resting your hands against his chest.

“What’s the verdict now, pretty boy?” you whispered, leaning down to kiss the side of his neck. “Have I convinced you that I’m not just a figment of your imagination…” you nipped at his pulse-point, tracing the vein with your tongue as he groaned. “…or do you need more proof?”

Clay’s hands gripped your hips tightly as he stared at you with hungry eyes, his heart pounding.

“I think…” he swallowed thickly, licking his lips. “I think I could use a little more proof.”

You smirked, moving down to press a kiss to his chest. Your eyes never left his as you asked, “Does that feel real?” Clay’s breath hitched as he nodded. “What about this?” you asked. “Does this feel real?” You swirled your tongue around one of his nipples, letting your teeth gently graze over the peaked bud.

“God, yes,” he choked out, his fists squeezing your skin. “So real…”

“And this?” You whispered, kissing him below his bellybutton, caressing your lips just above the waistband of his boxers.

“Yes,” he moaned, his eyebrows drawn together in desperation.

“What about this, pretty boy?” you smirked. “Is this real?”

You leaned down and placed an open-mouthed kiss against his clothed erection, letting him feel the warmth of your mouth.

“Fuck, Cherry,” he cried out, bucking his hips up involuntarily.

You traced your finger along the length of him, gently messaging the place where a wet spot had already begun forming.

“Want me to touch you, pretty boy?”

“Please,” he whispered, his voice thick with need as he nodded his head.

Your toes curled at the sound of his desperation. You dipped your fingers into the waistband of his boxers and pulled them off of his legs, freeing his throbbing erection.

Your lips parted as you took in the sight of his thick shaft with a bright red aching tip. You’d known he was big from feeling him pressed against you, but seeing it was another thing entirely.

You ran your hands up his thighs and cooed, “So fucking pretty.”

Clay let out a shaky breath, his cock twitching at the praise.

You let your fingers graze over him in a teasing manner before wrapping your hand around his shaft. You gave him a gentle squeeze, causing him to gasp and lift his hips off of the mattress.

The moment you began to slowly stroke him he let out a low moan, his eyes rolling back. His breaths came out in ragged pants, the muscles in his neck tensing with restraint.

“Fuck,” he breathed, arching into your touch. “You’re gonna be the death of me.”

His hips jerked as you stroked him faster, pulling another moan from his lips. His eyes widened and he grabbed your hand, pulling it away from him. He tried to catch his breath, a light blush creeping up his neck.

“You’re a little too good at that, Cherry,” he laughed, breathlessly. “I’m not gonna let this be over that quickly.”

You couldn’t help but grin at the thought that you had gotten him so close with just a few strokes, giggling at the playful roll of his eyes.

He moved his hands into your hair, pulling you back up to kiss him again. His lips moved against yours with determination, knowing exactly what he wanted. His fingers trailed up and down your spine before he reached around and unclasped your bra.

He pulled it off of you and tossed it to the side, unabashedly admiring you as he groaned in appreciation.

His eyes stayed locked on your chest as he rubbed his hands up your sides and whispered, “God, you’re perfect.”

You couldn’t help but shiver in anticipation, his touch leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake.

In one swift motion, he turned the two of you back over. He hovered over you, gazing down into your eyes with admiration. He lowered his head, kissing you softly.

“You have no idea how much I want you,” he whispered, kissing down your neck. His fingers grazed the inside of your thigh, slowly moving higher.

You gasped, a soft sigh escaping your lips as you tilted your head back to give him better access. You were pretty sure your lacy bottoms had been completely soaked through at this point.

You couldn’t help but whine when Clay’s hand skipped over your need and moved further up your side. He chuckled against your neck, kissing further down toward your chest.

Clay lifted up his head to watch you as he traced teasing circles across your nipple, grinning as it tightened under his touch. He flicked his thumb over it, gently tugging on it. His eyes sparkled as you gasped, arching into his touch.

He leaned his head back down, letting his lips graze against your ear as he asked, “You like that, baby?”

“Yes,” you breathed, writhing beneath him. “Please, keep touching me.”

“Is this where you want me to keep touching you?” Clay asked, a knowing glint in his eyes as he kept teasing you.

“No,” you whined, biting down on your lip. He knew exactly what he was doing and it was driving you crazy. “Just go…lower.”

“Mm, lower?” Clay grinned, cocking his brow. He trailed his fingers down your stomach, reaching between your legs to softly caress you. “Right here?”

“Yes, right there,” you gasped, gripping onto his shoulders.

Clay hooked his fingers into the sides of the bottoms, pulling them off as he sat up to look at you. His eyelids fluttered as he pushed your legs apart, gently rubbing your thighs.

“You are so beautiful,” he whispered, wrapping your legs around him before leaning back down to kiss you.

You whimpered against his lips as his fingers teased your swollen clit, rubbing small circles against it. His thumb continued to toy with it as he pushed one finger inside of you. He groaned into your mouth, lifting his head up to look at you as he panted.

“God, you’re so wet, baby,” he breathed, adding another finger. “You’re gonna feel so good wrapped around me.”

You arched off of the bed as he curled his fingers, brushing them against that perfect spot inside of you. He leaned his head down and wrapped his lips around one of your nipples, flicking his tongue against it.

“Fuck,” you moaned, feeling that knot tightening in the pit of your stomach. “I’m so close.”

Clay’s eyes snapped back up to you and he released your nipple with a pop, a trail of saliva still connecting it to his lips.

“That’s it, baby,” he encouraged you. “Come all over my fingers.”

Your eyes rolled back as you felt the wave of pleasure washing over you, crying out as he worked you through the high.

With a satisfied grin he pulled his fingers out of you, bringing them up to his lips to suck them clean. He closed his eyes, groaning softly at the taste.

The sight of that alone had you worked back up in an instant. You grabbed his face, bringing his mouth back down to yours as you tasted yourself on his lips.

“I want you,” you breathed, reaching down to line him up with your entrance. You kept your eyes locked on his as you said, “I want all of you.”

Clay’s gaze softened, his eyes swimming with emotion as he whispered, “You’ve already got it.”

He rested his forehead against yours as he slowly pushed into you. Both of you let out strangled moans as his hips landed flesh against yours, the size of him stretching you out. He held your gaze as he let you adjust to him before slowly starting to move.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, burying your hands in his hair as he picked up speed. Each thrust drove you closer and closer to the edge, the feeling of him becoming completely addictive.

“You feel so good around me, Cherry,” he panted, rolling his hips into yours. “I could stay buried inside of you forever.”

You moaned at his words, gasping as he lifted your hips to push deeper inside of you. The new angle made you see stars, feeling him in places you’d never felt anything before. Your eyes fluttered shut as you breathed out, “Clay.”

Clay froze, halting his movements. His chest heaved with rapid breaths as he stared down at you, his eyes growing darker.

You’d just said his name — his real name — for the first time. It had rolled off your tongue so naturally, like it had always been yours to say.

“Say it again,” he breathed, his voice hoarse. “Say my name again.”

He slowly pulled out, nearly all the way, before thrusting back into you sharply.

“Clay,” you gasped, tugging on his hair.

He repeated the movement and groaned, “Again.”

“Clay,” you moaned, crying out as he picked up speed again. Your nails scratched down his back as he thrust into you with a new fervor. “Clay, fuck.”

“That’s it, baby, keep going,” he prompted, snapping his hips up into yours repeatedly. “Let the whole world know who’s making you feel like this.”

Your senses were honed in on him, blocking everything else out. Every thought, every worry, every doubt was all replaced by him and how he was making you feel.

“Clay, I…I’m gonna come,” you whimpered, feeling your body rocking with the force of his thrusts.

“Come with me, Cherry,” he breathed, locking eyes with you. “Let’s finish this dance together.”

It didn’t take much more for that band to snap again, sending you soaring over the edge as you came around him. You cried out his name, clinging to him as he made you see galaxies. He quickly followed, burying his face into your neck as he groaned. You rode each other out, drinking in every last ounce of pleasure before he collapsed on top of you.

“Fuck,” he breathed, lifting his head as he grinned up at you. “That was incredible. I’ve never experienced anything like that before.”

You gazed up at him and lifted a trembling hand to run your fingers through his hair, unsticking it from his forehead.

“I’ve never experienced anything like you,” you whispered, unable to hide your emotions like you’re used to. “You’re something special, Clay.”

Clay’s eyes softened as he rested his forehead against yours. He gently caressed your cheek with his thumb, placing a sweet kiss against your lips.

“You have no clue just how special you are, baby,” he murmured, softly.

You hummed, feeling a pleasant warmth spread through you as a smile tugged on your lips.

Baby.

“Call me that again,” you whispered. “It sounds nice when you say it.”

“Yeah?” He chuckled, a wide grin lighting up his face. “Alright, baby.”

Your breath hitched as he kissed across your jaw, letting his lips hover by your ear as he whispered, “Baby.”

You could feel him stiffening again where he was still connected to your body. He brought his hand up to tease your nipple again, eliciting a soft whimper from you as he kissed down your neck.

“What are you doing?” you breathed, your mind already going fuzzy.

“What do you think I’m doing, baby?” he smirked, kissing your lips as he began to rock against you again.

You both fell into a fit of moans and gasps as you clung to each other, chasing that mutual release for a second time. Succumbing to the passion and pleasure, your desires crescendoed with a cry sweeter than any song.

Your legs trembled as you came down again, breathing heavily. Your body felt like jello, but you couldn’t find anything to complain about.

“Was it your goal to make sure I wouldn’t be able to get out of this bed?” you grinned, sighing contentedly as Clay rolled over and pulled you into his chest.

“You caught me, Cherry,” Clay chuckled, rubbing soothing circles along your waist. “It was my plan all along to keep you here forever.”

You knew that things had changed. The dynamic you shared had been irreparably altered. Yet, it didn’t scare you as much as it should. Lying here in his arms felt so…right. You rested your head on his chest, listening to the steady thrum of his heartbeat. For once in your life, you felt at peace.

“Tell me a story,” you whispered, tracing patterns against his chest with your fingertips. “Tell me one about you.”

A gentle smile settled onto Clay’s face as he said, “Well, this might sound silly, but I used to race remote control cars with my grandfather…”

He dove into tales of his childhood, painting a picture for you of the boy he was. You listened intently, hanging on to every word as he filled your heart with light. You listened to him for over an hour, never once growing bored. You found yourself wanting to know every little detail about him, even if you weren’t ready to share your own yet.

The two of you laid there as the night grew dark, basking in the haven of your new bubble away from the world. It was these moments that made the risk worth it — the calm before the inevitable storm.

————————————————————————

tag list

@bxbyysstuff @dollyiia @haydensbbg @dinorawrss @ann4zw @anak1ns-wife @cookybananas @avalovesjoe1

[bloatedandalone04]

Love Language

➪the one where you’re all clay needs to keep himself calm before surgery (and after).

Warnings: sam does not exist here (sorry not sorry f that b), mentions of surgery, surgery topics, hospital themes, anxiety, clay's surgery is successful and his mother is still alive, heart transplants (you saw the movie, you know how it goes), heavy topics, 'what is the healing process of a heart transplant' was definitely googled more than once while writing this.

Word Count: 2.3k

Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine <3

The sun peered into the room through the thin, white curtains - the same ones Clay has begged you to let him replace more than once now. It heated the room to the perfect temperature, not too cold while also not making you break out into a sweat. 

Lying fast asleep beside you was possibly the most beautiful man you had ever seen. His face was pressed to the pillow, his arms lifted and hidden under said pillow as he often fell asleep on his stomach, the front of his body pressed to the mattress. 

You reach over and gently trace your index finger over the various freckles that scattered his back before laying your palm flat against his skin, the faint beat of his heart bringing you a sense of comfort you never knew you needed. 

The glow of the sun made his skin look golden, his face relaxed and his hair messy from moving in his sleep. 

In other words, he was just perfect. 

You lift your body, your elbow digging into the bed as you hold yourself up. Unable to stop your wandering lips, you lean over and press a kiss to his bicep, and another to his shoulder blade.

Though your touch was feather light, it still woke him up as though his body couldn’t help but react whenever you showed him any type of affection. His eyes opened in a squint due to the light that invaded the room, the corner of his lips turning upwards in a boyish grin. “Hi,”

“Hi,” you murmur back, trailing your hand further up his back before tangling it in his light hair. 

He gives you a look that has your heart swelling before he lifts his head just to bury his face back in the pillow. You grin at his shyness, a personality trait you would’ve never imagined he had. With billions behind his name, a successful mother, a future set in stone, and a whole city that belonged to him; you expected him to be arrogant, spoiled, ruthless, even.  

But no, he was none of those things. 

He was kind, had the persona of an angel, something that prompted you to give him the nickname, your angel. He had a smile that could make any okay day an amazing one, the charm to sweep anyone off their feet, and a heart as big and sweet as anything in the entire world. Even though his heart was fragile and could betray him at any given moment, he still didn’t let that change his view on the world, the beautiful thing it was. 

To put it simply; Clay Beresford was the embodiment of everything good in the world, a light so bright that he had no idea just how much he lit up the darkest corners of damn near everyone he’s ever met, a man so perfect you found yourself believing you were stuck in a dream every time you woke up next to him. 

Massaging your fingers into his scalp, you fill with a sense of happiness at the content sigh that escapes him, silent in sound but evident in the way his shoulders raised and dropped slowly. 

You move closer to him, brushing your nose against his arm. “Why are you hiding from me?” You ask quietly, your hand flattening out his messy hair. 

He lifted his head just enough for him to be able to murmur, “I’m not hiding from you, baby,” the corners of his lips turned upwards as he continued, “Just from your awful excuse of a curtain.”

You gasp, taking your hand away from his head to give his shoulder a gentle push. “Hate them all you want,” you shrug, meeting his eyes when he turned his head to look at you. “I’m still not letting you buy me new ones.”

Clay laughed quietly, shifting so he was now on his back. His right hand came up to grab your left one, his eyes fixated on the large diamond that found home on your finger. 

With your free hand, you reach over and gently press it against his shoulder, your fingers firmly poking against the few small knots you felt. “What are you thinking about?” You nearly whisper, afraid as though you would ruin the peaceful atmosphere if you were to talk at your usual pitch. 

His blue eyes met yours once again. “You,” he simply answered and you felt a heat rush to your face. Keeping your hand locked in his, you lean down and press your lips to his mouth, an innocent kiss that grew heated when his left hand grabbed your hip and pulled your body on top of his. 

Your upper body was covered by his white dress shirt he wore to the dinner party last night, the shirt being the first thing you grabbed once you woke up this morning, while your lower half was covered by a thin black lace.

Clay has told you many times now that he loves the way you look in his clothes and it brings out a possessive side he never knew he had. You were just so beautiful, and you looked past his family drama and his heart problem and chose him. 

There weren’t words that are strong enough to describe his love for you or how much he adored you. You were one of the few things in his life that felt normal and right, and it was no surprise that he couldn’t hold back on asking you to be his forever just eight months into the relationship. 

You started out as his mom’s assistant. Lilith was a sweetheart right at the start, showing you around her massive house with the patience of a new teacher, smiling at you and encouraging any questions you might have had. 

You remembered exiting the kitchen and entering the front hall just as Clay returned home, his eyes tired and his form slouched. It was almost comical how quickly he straightened up and how wide his eyes opened. Lilith’s dismissal of his sudden appearance was one you’ll never forget. “Oh, that’s Clay, my son. Don’t worry, you won’t see much of him,”

How wrong she was.

From that day on, Clay did any and everything he could to see you, even for just a split second. He’d prolong quick conversations, give you a long answer instead of a short one to any question you had, and was always there to greet you when you arrived in the mornings. 

You were kidding yourself when you made a promise that you wouldn’t fall for him. You fell for Clay hard and fast, and it seemed as though he fell for you just as bad. When you became official, you quit being Lilith’s assistant as you felt weird about it and didn’t want your source of income to be from his mom.

No matter how much money the Beresford name had, you still felt cheap whenever Clay or his mother offered to pay for something. You knew it wouldn’t faze them, and you appreciate their kindness, but you refused each and every time. 

“You do realize that you’re entitled to my money once we’re married, right?” He’d ask you every time you refused to let him pay for you.

You always respond with, “Yeah, well, we’ll figure that out when we get there,”

His hands slide up your back when you break away from his mouth and begin placing kisses along his jaw. You move onto his neck and shoulders before moving further down and stopping right above where his heart was beating in his chest. 

A small bit of sadness filled you as your mouth hovered over that place, your hands pressing into the sheets on either side of his body. Clay noticed this, but before he could ask you what was wrong, you leaned down and placed a kiss to the skin of his chest, just over where his heart is. 

He held back a shiver as you placed another kiss and then another, your eyes closing when you felt his hands reach up to caress the sides of your face. Butterflies are set loose all over his body as you kiss him with a feather light touch, acting as if you’d break him if you were to be even the smallest bit rougher with him. 

“Hey,” he quietly said, his thumbs gently wiping away the tears that fell from your eyes. “What’s wrong?”

Shaking your head, you rest it against his chest, the faint beating against your cheek making you smile slightly. “I just love you,” it was hardly audible, but he heard you as clear as day. “So much.”

“Baby,” he says quietly, brushing your hair away from your face as he tries to get you to meet his eye. “Now it’s your turn to tell me what you’re thinking about.”

You wipe away your tears and clear your throat. “It’s nothing,” you answer, looking up at him and caving at the look he gives you. A shaky sigh leaves your lips as you crawl over his body and move to lay on your side next to him. Your fingers trace over the skin you had just kissed while his rubbed soothing circles onto your shoulder. “I was just thinking about how much I will love your new heart, maybe even more than I love your current one.”

Clay grinned down at you before pressing a kiss to your forehead. “There’s no doubt in my mind that my new heart will love you just as much as the old one does now,” he says quietly before adding, “Thank you for never giving up on me. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

-

Clay spent a week in the hospital, his pager going off a few hours after you and him got out of bed after your heart to heart talk. 

His surgery was a success, his body taking the new organ with no problems at all and rendering him a new man.

You were by his side throughout the whole process, your own heart beating rapidly during the five hours he was under. The sense of relief you felt when his doctor came to the waiting room to inform you and Lilith that it was a success was indescribable. 

He woke up an hour or so after the surgery, and a couple more later you were finally allowed to briefly visit him. You instantly started crying, which caused him to cry as well, still a bit drowsy and high off the medication. 

Despite the doctor’s request of not getting too close to him, you couldn’t help but press multiple kisses to his face, working carefully around the ventilator, before settling on holding his hand as gently as you could. He looked so tired and weak and worn out, making your heart break the smallest bit as you thought about the long road to recovery he had ahead of him. 

Now, four weeks into his recovery process, he was doing well. He would have multiple pain sessions everyday where his chest would ache beyond anything he could ever describe. During those moments he would tightly hold your hand or wrap his arms around your middle while pressing his body to yours until the pain subsided and the quiet groans faded. 

You grew closer than ever. You had taken an LOA from your job at the small café downtown to take care of him, looking after his every need with no hesitation. He was in bed for the most part, only getting up to walk the short distance to the bathroom attached to the bedroom or up and down the hallway outside the room to keep him somewhat active. Even then you were no more than a few feet away from him, a nervous look on your face and a crease in your brow

Secretly, the days you spent with him in bed was your favorite way to pass the time. Like right now, your chin resting gently on his shoulder while your index finger lightly ran up and down the scar on his chest. The bandage and stitches had long since been removed and all that was left was a long line from the start of his chest down to just above his lower abdomen. 

Today was a good day as he hadn’t felt a single ounce of pain yet, his arm wrapped around you and his fingers lazily tracing shapes on your bicep. His half lidded eyes stared at the ceiling, the only sounds filling the room being your breathing and the low hum of the air conditioning. 

Breaking the silence, you keep your voice quiet as you ask, “How are you feeling today?”

Your head lifted slightly with every breath he took, his shoulder rising with every inhale. Just being able to feel him breathe made you fill with a sense of happiness, the stress of the whole thing fading away with every day that passed. “Good,” he answered, his lips turning upwards when he added, “Better than ever.”

You close your eyes at that, exhaling quietly. “Good,” your hand moves from his scar and rests on the skin above his heart, the faint but strong beat making you smile. “You’re still you.” You say quietly and lift yourself up, propping your upper half on your elbow.

Clay furrows his brows as he watches you lean down to press your lips over his heart. He was brought back to the morning of his surgery, just hours before he got the page that a transplant was available, where you did exactly what you were doing now, but on his old and weak heart. 

“My angel….New heart, new life,” you continued, kissing his skin once more before meeting his eyes. “Still the same you.”

Clay lifted his hand to stroke your cheekbone with his thumb, the rest of his fingers curling under your jaw. ��I’m still me,” he confirmed, matching your small grin with one of his own. “And my heart still loves you just the same.”