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speaknow-sw · 2 months ago

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𝒦𝐼𝒩𝒦𝒯𝒪𝐵𝐸𝑅 𝟤𝟢𝟤𝟦

17/10/2024, Prompt : Incest, Daddy Kink, Orgasm Denial, Breeding kink, Threesome with Clayton Beresford & William Beeman

A/N : mdni, incest, daddy kink, slight orgasm denial, slight breeding kink, threesome.

Third fic yay ! This one is hella long and scrumptious as fuck. Don’t search the logic. Anyway enjoyy !

𝐻𝑜𝓌 𝓉𝑜 𝓉𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓉 𝒶 𝓁𝒶𝒹𝓎 : 𝒶 𝑔𝓊𝒾𝒹𝑒 𝒷𝓎 𝐵𝑒𝑒𝓂𝒶𝓃 & 𝐵𝑒𝓇𝑒𝓈𝒻𝑜𝓇𝒹

You step out of the sleek black car, feeling the crisp autumn air brush against your skin as you glance up at the towering glass skyscraper. Clayton Beresford, your fiancé, stands beside you, his presence calm yet commanding. With his sharp suit tailored to perfection and his eyes glinting with confidence, he’s every bit the billionaire CEO the world knows him to be. But to you, he's just Clay—the man who makes your heart race with every smile.

As you both make your way through the lobby, the gleaming marble floors echoing beneath your heels, you can't help but feel a sense of nostalgia. It’s been years since you last visited your father’s office. William Beeman, the legendary stock-broker and CEO, is known for his financial empire, but to you, he’s always been "Daddy," even with all the business aura surrounding him.

Clayton places a reassuring hand at the small of your back as the elevator doors slide open. "Ready?" he asks, his deep voice smooth and steady, a stark contrast to the nervous flutter in your chest.

You nod, offering him a small smile. "As ready as I’ll ever be. Let’s see if my dad still as intimidating as I remember."

The elevator ride is swift, the numbers flashing by until it reaches the top floor, where the empire your father built waits. As the doors part, you're greeted by the familiar scent of polished wood and leather. William Beeman's office is a blend of power and legacy, the walls lined with shelves of finance books and framed photographs of world leaders he’s shaken hands with.

Your father looks up from his desk, his expression unreadable at first. Then, a slow smile spreads across his face as he stands to greet you both. “Ah, finally. The future Mr. and Mrs. Beresford.” His voice carries the same authority that’s made him a titan in the industry, but there’s a softness reserved just for you.

You step forward, your pulse quickening as you prepare to introduce Clay to the man who’s shaped your life in more ways than you can count. « Hi, daddy » you smiled brightly, hugging him.

Will's arms wrap around you in a tight embrace, pulling you close against his firm chest. You can feel the warmth of his body seeping through his crisp dress shirt, and smell the faint hint of his cologne - a spicy, masculine scent that always reminds you of home.

"My baby girl," he murmurs into your hair, his large hand stroking the length of your back. "I've missed you. How have you been, sweetheart?"

He pulls back slightly to look at you, his intense blue eyes searching your face. There's a hint of concern etched in the lines around them, and you know it's because of the accident that left you hospitalized.

"You’ll always be a little Beeman…" he whispered affectionately. "Are you feeling better? I hope that Clay here has been taking good care of you." His gaze shifts to your fiancé, a hint of challenge in his expression. "Because if he hasn't, well... let's just say I won't hesitate to teach him a thing or two about how a real man treats a lady."

His tone is light, almost teasing, but there's an underlying current of protectiveness that sends a shiver down your spine. Even after all these years, your daddy's love can be both comforting and intimidating.

Clay steps forward, his presence filling the space between you and your father. He extends his hand to Will, his grip firm and confident.

"Mr. Beeman, it's an honor to finally meet you. I'm Clayton Beresford, your daughter's fiancé. And yes, sir, I've been taking excellent care of her. She's my priority, always."

His gaze locks with Will's, a silent challenge passing between them. Clay's not one to back down easily, and it's clear he's not about to let anyone, not even his future father-in-law, push him around.

"I've heard so much about you, sir. Your reputation precedes you. I look forward to learning from your wisdom and experience." There's a hint of respect in Clay's voice, but also a subtle assertion of his own status and accomplishments.

You smiled but stayed in your father’s arms « He’s so sweet daddy… like you » You wiggled your hips.

Will's eyes darken as he feels you wiggle in his arms, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. He tightens his hold on you, one hand sliding lower to rest on your hip.

"Is that so, baby girl?" he purrs, his voice low and husky. "Well, I'm glad to hear Clay is treating you right. But remember, no matter how sweet he is, he'll never be able to love you the way I do."

He leans in closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, "And don't think I haven't noticed the way you're pressing yourself against me, little minx. Your daddy knows exactly what you need."

Will's hand on your hip squeezes gently, a silent reminder of the connection between you. Even in front of your fiancé, he's not afraid to show his possessive side.

He pulls back slightly, his gaze shifting to Clay. "I hope you know what you're getting into, son. My little girl is precious, and I expect you to treat her like a princess. Because if you don't..." He trails off, leaving the threat hanging in the air.

Clay's jaw clenches slightly at Will's words, a flicker of irritation crossing his features before he schools his expression into a neutral mask. He takes a step closer to you both, his presence a stark reminder of his own strength and authority.

"Mr. Beeman," he says, his voice calm but firm, "I assure you, I have every intention of treating your daughter like the treasure she is. My love for her is unwavering, and I would never dream of hurting her."

He reaches out, his hand gently cupping your cheek as he turns your face towards him. "She's my world, and I'll spend every day of our lives proving that to her... and to you, sir."

There's a challenge in Clay's eyes as he looks at Will, a silent message that says he's not about to be intimidated. He may respect your father, but he's not afraid to stand his ground when it comes to you.

You pouted and brushed your fingers slightly against your dad crotch.

Will's eyes widen slightly at your bold actions, surprise and excitement dancing in their depths. He doesn't stop you, instead, he shifts his hips slightly, allowing you better access to his crotch. His voice is low and husky as he speaks.

"Baby girl, what's gotten into you today? Trying to stir things up, huh?" He chuckles softly, the sound deep and resonant. "Let's see how long Clay can keep his cool while you're playing with Daddy."

Will's hand rests on your thigh, his touch light but possessive. He turns his attention to Clay, a knowing smirk on his face.

"I see you're quite the gentleman, Clay. But I wonder, how long will that last when my little minx starts getting frisky?"

His gaze is challenging, daring Clay to rise to the occasion. Will's not backing down, and it's clear he's enjoying the tension that's building in the room.

Clay's eyes narrow slightly as he watches you play with Will's crotch. A muscle twitches in his jaw, betraying his annoyance, but his voice remains steady when he speaks.

"Darling, perhaps we should keep things civil," he says, his tone gentle but firm. "Your father and I have just met, and I'm sure he wouldn't want us to be too... forward in his office."

He turns to Will, his expression unyielding. "Mr. Beeman, I understand your desire to protect your daughter, but I assure you, my intentions are pure. I only want what's best for your daughter, and that includes maintaining a respectful relationship with her family."

Despite his words, Clay's hand tightens slightly around yours, a silent reminder of his claim on you. He's not about to let your father provocations go unchallenged, but he's also not going to stoop to the same level.

"Now, why don't we focus on getting to know each other better, without any unnecessary distractions?" He suggests, his gaze never leaving your dad’s one.

The sight of you spread out before them, your legs parted invitingly, is enough to break the last of their resistance. With a low growl, your dad descends upon you, his lips capturing yours in a searing kiss.

At the same time, Clay positions himself between your legs, his fingers trailing teasingly along your inner thighs. He leans in, his hot breath ghosting over your sensitive skin as he whispers, "You're so beautiful, baby. We're going to make you feel so good."

Will's hands roam over your body, exploring every curve and dip with a hunger that sets your skin ablaze. He breaks the kiss to trail his lips down your neck, nipping and sucking at the delicate flesh as he goes.

Clay, meanwhile, is focused on bringing you pleasure. He parts your folds with his fingers, his touch gentle but insistent as he explores your most intimate places. He groans at the wetness he finds there, a testament to your desire.

Will continues his assault on your senses, his lips blazing a trail of fire down your body until he reaches your breasts. He takes one hardened nipple into his mouth, sucking and flicking it with his tongue as his hand massages the other.

The dual sensations of your dad’s mouth on your breasts and Clay's fingers between your legs are almost too much to bear. You arch your back, pushing yourself further into their touch, desperate for more.

Clay, sensing your need, begins to thrust his fingers inside you, his pace steady and deep. He curls his fingers just right, hitting that spot that makes you see stars.

Will, not wanting to be left out, moves lower, his tongue replacing Clay's fingers as he laps at your dripping core. He moans against you, the vibrations adding to your pleasure.

Together, they work in tandem, bringing you closer and closer to the edge. The sounds of your combined moans and the wet, obscene noises of Will's mouth on you fill the room, creating a symphony of lust.

Your moans and the way your body writhes beneath their touch spur Will and Clay on, driving them to new heights of passion. They continue their relentless assault on your senses, determined to bring you to the peak of pleasure.

Will, his face glistening with your juices, looks up at you with a wicked grin. He increases the pressure of his tongue, alternating between long, slow licks and rapid flicks against your sensitive clit. His eyes never leave yours, watching the ecstasy play out across your face.

Your fiancé, his fingers still buried deep inside you, leans down to capture one of your nipples between his teeth. He tugs gently, sending a jolt of electricity straight to your core. His free hand comes up to tangle in your hair, pulling your head back to expose your neck, which he proceeds to lavish with kisses and bites.

The combined sensations are overwhelming, and you can feel your body beginning to tense as your orgasm approaches. Will senses it too, and he doubles his efforts, his tongue working furiously against your most sensitive spot.

Your fiancé presses a third finger inside you, stretching and filling you in a way that feels so incredibly good. He matches the rhythm of his fingers with the movement of his mouth on your nipple, creating a delicious friction that sends shockwaves through your body.

As you teeter on the brink of ecstasy, they both seem to sense the impending explosion. They redouble their efforts, their touches becoming more urgent and demanding. Will's tongue circles your clit, while Clay's fingers piston in and out of you, hitting that perfect spot inside with unerring accuracy.

With a final cry, you come undone, your body convulsing as wave after wave of intense pleasure washes over you. Will and Clay continue their ministrations, prolonging your orgasm and drawing out every last drop of pleasure.

Clay's breath hitches as you turn around and take him into your mouth, your skilled tongue swirling around the head of his cock. He tangles his fingers in your hair, guiding you deeper onto his shaft. "Oh, fuck, doll. Your mouth feels incredible," he groans, his hips rocking forward to meet your movements.

Will, not wanting to be left out, moves behind you, his hands gripping your hips as he positions himself at your entrance. He rubs the tip of his cock against your slick folds, coating himself in your juices. "You're so wet, baby girl. I can't wait to feel you wrapped around me."

With a single, powerful thrust, Will sheaths himself inside you, stretching and filling you in a way that makes you moan around Clay's cock. The dual sensations of being filled from both ends are overwhelming, and you can't help but push back against Will, wanting more.

Clay, meanwhile, is lost in the sensation of your warm, wet mouth. He fights the urge to thrust into your throat, instead allowing you to set the pace. His grip on your hair tightens as he guides you, encouraging you to take him deeper. "That's it, baby. Take all of me."

Your dad, sensing your desire, grins wickedly. "Oh, baby girl, you want Daddy and Clay to breed this sweet little pussy of yours? To pump you full of our seed and make sure everyone knows who you belong to ? I was waiting for a grandchild but who knows ? It could be your sibling ?" He grinned menacingly.

Clay, nodding in agreement, leans in close, his breath hot against your ear. "We'll fill you up so good, doll. Pump you full of our cum until it's dripping down your thighs. Everyone will know that you're ours… but I’ll be the one to knock you up."

As you continue to bob up and down on Clay's shaft, Will establishes a steady rhythm, his hips slapping against yours with each powerful thrust. The sound of skin on skin fills the room, mixing with the moans and grunts of the three of you as you lose yourselves in the throes of passion.

Will leans over your back, his chest pressed against your shoulders as he reaches around to play with your clit. His fingers circle the sensitive nub, adding to the intense pleasure coursing through your body. "You like that, don't you, sweetheart? Having both of us inside you, filling you up?"

Clay, feeling your walls tighten around your dad’s cock, recognizes the signs of your impending orgasm. He pulls your head back, forcing you to release his cock, and captures your lips in a searing kiss. "Let go, baby. Come for us," *he commands, his voice rough with lust.

Suddenly you felt yourself being pulled off Clay’s cock and bounced furiously on Daddy’s one.

As Will pulls you off Clay's cock and bounces you furiously on his own, you can't help but let out a loud moan. The sudden change in position and the relentless pace of Will's thrusts send shockwaves of pleasure through your body, and you can feel yourself getting closer to the edge.

Clay, not wanting to be left out, moves in front of you, his cock bobbing mere inches from your face. He wraps his hand around the base, guiding it towards your mouth. "Open up, baby. Let me feel those pretty lips again."

You eagerly comply, taking your fiancé’s cock into your mouth once more. The taste of him mixed with your own juices is intoxicating, and you find yourself craving more. You suck and lick, your tongue swirling around the shaft as you bob your head up and down.

Will, feeling your walls tightening around him, knows that you're close. He leans over your back, his teeth sinking into the flesh of your shoulder as he continues to pound into you, chasing your orgasm. "That's it, baby girl. Come for Daddy. Let me feel you come undone."

The combined sensations of Will's cock hitting that perfect spot inside you and Clay's thick shaft filling your mouth are too much to bear. With a muffled cry, you reach your peak, your body shaking and convulsing as wave after wave of intense pleasure washes over you.

As you come down from your high, Will and Clay continue to move, their own releases approaching. Will's thrusts become more erratic, his grip on your hips tightening as he chases his own orgasm. "Fuck, baby girl, I'm going to come. Are you ready for Daddy's load?"

Clay, feeling your throat constrict around his cock, grabs your hair and holds you in place as he thrusts into your mouth. His body tenses, and with a low groan, he releases himself inside you, his hot seed spilling down your throat.

A few moments later, Will reaches his own climax, his hips stuttering as he empties himself deep inside you.

As they switch places, you feel a momentary emptiness before Clay is sliding into you from behind, his cock replacing Will's. He groans at the feeling of your tight heat enveloping him, and he starts to move, his thrusts deep and powerful.

Meanwhile, your father moves in front of you, his cock, still hard and ready, brushing against your cheek. He cups your face, guiding you to take him into your mouth once more. "That's it, baby girl. Suck Daddy's cock while that little fucker fills you up."

You eagerly comply, your lips wrapping around Will's shaft as Clay pounds into you from behind. The new position allows you to take Will deeper, and you relax your throat, letting him slide all the way in.

Clay, his hands gripping your hips, sets a brutal pace, his thrusts rocking your entire body. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, mixing with your muffled moans around Will's cock and the grunts and groans of the two men.

Will, his eyes locked on yours, watches as you take him deep, reveling in the sight of you so thoroughly debauched. He rocks his hips, fucking your face with shallow thrusts, his cock hitting the back of your throat with each movement. "Fuck, baby, your mouth feels so good. You're such a good girl for Daddy."

You chocked on his gigantic cock, tears running down. « Daddy… » you moaned around his shaft.

The sight of you choking on his cock, tears streaming down your face as you moan around him, only serves to drive Will wild. He grips your hair tightly, holding you in place as he continues to fuck your face. "That's right, baby girl. Take Daddy's cock. You look so beautiful like this, all choked up and desperate for my attention."

Clay, noticing the tears, slows his pace slightly, his thrusts becoming more deliberate and controlled. He leans over your back, pressing his chest against yours as he whispers in your ear, "You okay, baby? Do you need a break?"

Despite the tears and the choking, you shake your head, your eyes locked on Will's. The love and devotion you feel for him, along with the intense pleasure coursing through your body, keeps you going. You want to please him, to show him how much you adore him.

Will, sensing your determination, nods approvingly. "Good girl. You're doing so well. Daddy's proud of you."

He continues to thrust into your mouth, his cock hitting the back of your throat with each movement. The combination of pain and pleasure is overwhelming, and you can feel another orgasm building within you.

Clay, feeling your walls tightening around him, picks up the pace once more, his thrusts becoming faster and harder. He reaches around to play with your clit, his fingers rubbing in quick, firm circles, pushing you closer to the edge. "Come again, baby. It’ll be good."

The dual sensations of Will's cock in your mouth and Clay's fingers on your clit are too much to resist. With a muffled cry around Will's shaft, you come undone, your body shaking and convulsing as another powerful orgasm rips through you.

As you ride out the aftershocks of your second climax, stars in the eyes, Will and Clay continue to move, their own releases approaching. Will's thrusts become more erratic, his grip on your hair tightening as he chases his own orgasm.

As your body trembles with the intensity of the pleasure, Will and Clay sense your impending orgasm. They want to prolong your ecstasy, to keep you on the edge for as long as possible. In a show of dominance, they tighten their grip on you, preventing you from reaching that final peak.

Your father pulls out of your mouth, his cock glistening with your saliva. He leans down, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss, his tongue delving into your mouth and tangling with yours. At the same time, Clay slows his thrusts, his hips undulating in a slow, sensual rhythm that teases rather than satisfies.

You whimper into the kiss, your body begging for release, but Will and Clay remain relentless. They continue their ministrations, keeping you in a state of constant arousal without allowing you to climax.

Breaking the kiss, Will looks down at you, his eyes dark with desire. "Not yet, baby girl. Daddy wants to feel you come undone when he's deep inside you. Can you hold on for me a little longer?"

Clay, echoing his sentiments, whispers in your ear, "We want to feel you shatter, sweetheart. Give us just a little more time, and then you can let go."

They resume their movements, Will's cock sliding back into your mouth while Clay picks up the pace once more, his thrusts growing more forceful and deliberate. The dual stimulation is almost unbearable, and you can feel your orgasm building again, even stronger than before.

As you struggle to maintain control, Will and Clay continue to push you higher, their hands roaming your body, pinching and squeezing your sensitive flesh. They're determined to drive you to the brink, to make you beg for release before they finally grant it to you.

« Daddy please….Clay… I n-need to….please please… » you begged, crying shakily. Your desperate pleas and the sight of your tears are enough to sway Will and Clay. They've pushed you to the limit, and they can see the desperation in your eyes. It's clear that you need release, and they're not determined to give it to you.

Will pulls out of your mouth, his cock slick with your saliva. He cups your face, wiping away your tears with his thumb. "Shh, baby girl. Daddy's here. We're not going to let you come now, I promise."

Clay, his thrusts becoming more erratic, nods in agreement. "That's it, doll. Don’t you dare let go. If you come there’s going to have a punishment, baby." He slapped you butt cheek earning a cry.

You sobbed, trembling « Please…please…I’m a good girl….i can have it…please… »

Will slides back into your mouth, his cock gliding effortlessly past your lips. At the same time, Clay's thrusts become more forceful, each one driving deep into your core and hitting that perfect spot inside you. "That's it, baby girl," Will encourages, his voice strained with his own impending orgasm. "Take Daddy's cock again. Let go and come for us."

Clay, his fingers digging into your hips, picks up the pace even more, his thrusts becoming almost violent in their intensity. "Come on, doll. Let it happen. Show us what a good girl you are."

The combined sensations of your father’s cock in your mouth and your fiancé’s thrusts pounding into you finally push you over the edge. With a muffled cry around Will's shaft, you come undone, your body convulsing as wave after wave of intense pleasure washes over you.

The feeling of your walls clamping down around him is too much for Clay, and with a guttural groan, he releases himself inside you, his hot seed filling your depths. Will, feeling your throat constrict around him, follows suit, his own release pulsing down your throat. He pulled away and tapped his fat cock against your cheek, laughing.

As the three of you ride out the aftershocks of your shared climax, they collapse on top of you, their bodies covering yours in a warm embrace. They pepper your face and neck with soft kisses, praising you for being such a good girl and taking everything they had to offer. « This is how a real man treat a lady, Beresford. » your Dad patted his back.

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anystalker707 · 3 months ago

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Baby said

Pairing: James Kelly x [gn, afab] Reader Summary: James won't shut up. He can talk between your legs, if he wants to. Tags: pussy eating / use of pussy + cunt / hes annoying (a tease / ☆transmasc friendly

MASTER LIST

She puts her hand on my lips, begging "Please, end this conversation" "Shut your mouth, give me your head" "Let me taste your silhouette" "You can talk between my legs" Baby Said - Måneskin

James talked too much, for a fact. It wasn’t all that bad, no, because you actually enjoyed how he’d care enough to ask you about your day and have interesting conversations about the topics you liked, but right now wasn’t the moment. He started talking about something random, which was barely relevant by now, and the rent evolved into something completely different, words muffled by the music, chatter, and glass clinking of the bar.

Sip by sip, the beer inside the bottle in his hand only reached below half of the bottle, and an already empty bottle sat on the counter to be removed by a bartender. James sat on the neighbor stool with an arm folded over the counter, feet on the footrest, sometimes letting the bottle rest on his thigh. His gaze rarely found yours, and even if it did, he’d look away too soon. Was he unaware of the boredom stamped on your face, or was it intentional?

The veins on the back of his hand became a little more prominent when he squeezed your thigh, and you hoped his hand would move up a little, squeeze your thigh, do something else. After such a harsh day, you deserved something from your boyfriend. A little pampering, at least.

“...and they still want a good job done, d’you get it?” James glanced at you again, and you only nodded absentmindedly. He’d told that story so many times already, repeating it whenever he was revolted with something at work, ignoring your advice to leave the others’ work alone since that didn’t concern him.

James’ lips closed around the bottle, his Adam’s apple bobbing while the drink trailed down his throat, and you couldn’t take your eyes off him, squirming a little in an attempt to quench the tingling between your legs. He let the bottle down again, his hand wrapped around the neck, a finger tracing the rim slowly. If only…

You rubbed your brow and closed your eyes in an attempt to alleviate that annoyance that twisted in your chest at least a little, focusing briefly on the counter’s edge pressing to your back, its cold surface under your arm, the music, whatever. The talk wavered when you grabbed the bottle from his hand to take a swig, but the taste wasn’t all that good, leaving behind a taste that reminded you of corn or something similar.

“Baby?” James raised his eyebrows at how you scrunched your nose and put the bottle away, leaning into his side in the process.

“What’s gotten in you today?” You glanced at him. “C’mon, end this conversation, please. This is killing me,” you said close to his ear, watching him sigh as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders, furrowing his eyebrows.

James smelled like a mix of engine oil, grease, and smoke, which clung to him even after a shower and putting on some clean clothes and a spray of his cheap cologne to hang out with you in a nice bar downtown after receiving some extra cash. He sighed, pressing his nose to the side of your face in a way his breath fanned over the side of your neck—you shivered.

“Sorry, baby.” He smacked his lips as his eyes scanned the place, then finally met yours. “Thought you were enjoying this—”

Your thumb pressed across James' lips as you cupped his face to bring him close enough to whisper into his ear. “Shut your mouth, give me some head.”

His grip tightened on your shoulder at the same moment his breath hitched, and it took James a long moment to finally nod, sighing as he pressed his face to the side of your neck. “Ugh, baby, I thought you wanted to have a nice time here, you and I, that you’d tell me ‘bout—”

“James.”

“Mm?”

“Talk between my legs, if you really want to.”

Whatever James wanted to say was replaced by a firm nod as he raised his eyebrows a little, throwing his free hand in the air in surrender. “Yes, baby, okay.” He finished the beer in a swig before he stood up and grabbed your hand to guide you through the crowd.

James stopped by the entrance of the restrooms, peeking into one of them before he tried to act casual when a guy left the male restroom, which would have been funny if it weren’t for the urgency. He walked into the restroom first, analyzing the stalls before he pulled you in and locked the door swiftly as fast as his lips pressed to yours in a firm kiss once he’d pinned you to the wall. A soft groan escaped his throat, his hands gripping your hips with the same eagerness you clung to him, arms wrapped around his neck.

If it were anywhere else—like the bar down his street—, you would’ve chosen to go home rather than into the restrooms, but this one had a faint scent of soap and Air Wick along with something else—the high price for the entrance needed to be worth every square inch of that place.

Despite the lingering taste of beer on his lips, James’ kisses were perfect, his lips pressing to yours with a rush of desire that transpired through every little action. His hands ran up and down your sides, settling down and squeezing your ass at the same time his tongue pushed past your lips and pressed to yours demandingly. The way his strong hands kneaded on your ass made the arousal burn hotter in your lower stomach, and you followed the guidance of his grip, grinding your hips against the bulge tenting the front of his pants and earning yourself a groan from him.

A tingling sensation replaced the light ache from James’ teeth tugging on your lips after he pulled away and kissed down your neck instead, stubble scratching your skin, irrelevant when compared to the soft moans he snatched from you. James knew your sweet spots by heart, so that wasn’t a hard job anyway. His lips pressed to the heated skin to cover it in kisses and nipping until your breath turned into little gasps.

“Never leavin’ me alone, are you?” James’ breath tickled your neck.

“Don’t act like you don’t enjoy it.” A smile tugged on your lips.

James grunted in response, unbuckling your belt and unbuttoning your pants while kissing along your jaw, giving it a last nip before he lowered himself to his knees. Taking your pants would’ve been an easier task if it weren’t for the rush making every little task ten times harder—you gripped onto James’ shoulder for support to try to kick the pants and underwear off one of your legs, struggling to do it despite his help.

“Shit,” James muttered before he hooked your leg over his shoulder. “There we go,” he muttered against your thigh. His eyes met yours with desire burning behind the blue irises, which were nothing but thin rings around blown pupils by now, holding your attention while his teeth teased your skin. “Vicious,” he whispered between soft kisses as his hands held firmly onto your thighs, fingers sinking into them possessively.

“I already told you to shut up.” You clicked your tongue, running your fingers through his hair. He rolled his eyes lightly before rubbing his cheek against your thigh, and you didn’t know how to feel about the sensation. A strained sound escaped your lips, followed by one of his own when your fingers tugged on his hair, moans and groans lost in the empty restroom under the muffled song penetrating the walls.

The nipping on your inner thigh made you clench around nothing in anticipation, at the same time it had you pondering between telling James to do it already and enjoying the teasing.

“You’re so fuckin’ perfect, y’know that?” James’s breath fanned over your cunt before he pressed his lips to it, mouthing at the slit experimentally, still enough to send a shiver down your spine when his lips grazed your clit. His hands held you more firmly to keep you in place while his lips pressed to you properly, his tongue running against your pussy in fat licks to drink in the wetness that’d accumulated already from all the craving and teasing. It made you shudder and press your heel to his back, unconsciously trying to bring him closer, to have his tongue on your clit because he meant it, not just occasional grazes.

James groaned, mouthing at your pussy—practically making out with it—, sucking softly with each motion and letting his lips linger against you, in a way you quickly needed to lean back against the wall more for support. His tongue finally circled your clit, warm and wet, deliciously seeking a louder moan from you so that he could wrap his lips around it and suck, each movement balanced between his plans and the desire that seeped into the moment. Your knees went weak in a way that you would’ve been on the ground already if it weren’t for his strong hands holding you up and the wall behind you.

“Fuck, that’s it.”

Another rush was sent down your core when James looked up at you again, eyes half-lidded, face buried between your thighs. Hell, you were gonna fucking die.

The jolt of pleasure fizzled away into something less intense, leaving behind a dull ache and snatching a whimper from your lips, ignored and followed by pleasure sparkling through your body again, mingled with pain, when James nipped on your folds.

“James,” you hissed, tugging on his hair. He let out a delicious groan as his head tilted back, and you took the opportunity to thrust your hips forward, grinding your pussy against his face—if anything, he loved it.

His fingers sank into the fat of your thighs, and James mouthed at your pussy again, eating it as if it were a meal, until an intense sparkle of something greater peaked in the distance, but he fucking slowed down, ignoring your frustration. James’ tongue rubbed slow, controlled circles around your clit until the feeling dissipated—or at least vanished into something weaker—, and he tried to keep on top of it, alternating between short, sharp flicks and long, slow licks. It made your thighs quiver, the thoughts escaping your grasp, and he kept his eyes on your face to keep an idea of what you felt, to watch the pleasure he made you feel.

James’ tongue circled your entrance, making your cunt clench around nothing again, but only until his tongue finally pushed inside, lapping inside you and tracing your entrance in such a way.

James moaned against your pussy, eyes fluttering closed, and he fucking nipped on your clit, eating you out more vigorously as the pain blended with pleasure and made you weak. “Cum f’me? You close, baby? Lemme taste you.”

The words got lost in a moan before you could say them, tightening your grip on James’ hair while your hips bucked against his mouth. “Ahh, yes,” you breathed with a whimper, unable to keep the sounds from escaping your lips as James kept devouring your pussy so deliciously, making your mind quickly grow hazy with a pleasure that filled your senses, heady and intoxicating. His name spilled from your lips in a breathy moan as you finally came, holding his head buried between your thighs in an attempt to make the pleasure drag out with how he kept mouthing at your pussy.

Finally, that tension inside you turned into relief. James’ licks turned borderline overstimulating as he drank all he could from your release, mouthing at your pussy, letting go of it with a final tug on your labia with his lips. “Well, there it is, baby,” he whispered, “and I want more.”

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

#hayden christensen #james kelly #x reader #x female reader #x male reader #gender neutral #james kelly x reader #james kelly smut #anakin skywalker #stephen glass #sam monroe #clay beresford #lorenzo di lamberti

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blippymilk · 1 year ago

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Brozone (+ Poppy & Viva) x Touch Starved Fem! Reader

Ok the request is that the reader is a touch starved, easily flustered, insecure yet passionate female. Her hair can change based on how she’s feeling. She likes to rant and info dump a lot. She likes drawing herself and her loved ones, and gives small gifts as a form of affection or to make them feel better. There will be a friend and s/o version.

(I’m also really sorry if this is not to the liking of the request, I kind of struggled while making this 😭)

John Dory:

Friend:

- As your friend he’s a little concerned for you

- Like he knows your fine but sometime he worries 😭

- But nothing JD can’t handle

- Genuinely enjoys your little gifts but he never makes it obvious at first

“Hey JD look I made you a little gift.” :)

“Oh that’s sweet. Can you put it on my desk? I’ll look at it later.”

- One day him and his brothers were rough housing around while you Poppy, and Viva stood by cheering them on. Bruce gets a little too rough with him and knocks something out of his jacket, it was your gift

- This man stops everything

- Like everything

- Like everyone’s frozen in place no matter what stance they’re in

- And picks it up and places it gently back in the pockets inside his jacket then lectures the boys about how he could’ve gotten his belongings crushed 😭

S/O:

- Still worries about you even after being together

- Sometimes the way your emotions change with your hair startles him

- And that’s mostly because your emotions can change rapidly

- But he also finds it really funny

- So prepare for his scare attacks

- Your hair gets so spiky, and you get so mad

“Oh come on I was only playing around babe. Tell you what, I’ll find a better way to mess with your hair.”

- And he did, which was by flustering you with comments that boost your confidence

- Your face turns red and your hair poofs up then falls around your head

- You’re always muttering a lot just like Viva and Poppy and JD finds it hilarious that him, Branch, and Clay are in the same boat (not saying Clay and Viva are not dating jus to clarify 😭)

Floyd:

Friend:

- Loves having a friend that’s the complete opposite of him

- He’ll listen to you rant all day

- With feedback on every question and statement

- Also finds your hair amusing but won’t abuse it’s power on purpose like John 😭

- Shocked by your passion to draw

“Is that me and you?”

“You know it.”

“I love it.” 🥹

S/O:

- Absolutely head over heels for you

- Still would be into listening to you rant but he’s helping you calm down a bit more

- Now your drawings had a more romantic reference behind them and he loved them even more

- No matter where he goes he always has one of your pictures on him

- He carries it around and values it like cash

- And absolutely none of his (little) brothers are getting their hands on it (yes he’s aware that they’re all adults now)

Spruce Bruce

Friend:

- He’s an expert on hair so he’s not too shocked or anything

- I mean look at that fluff on his head

- Seeing as Bruce could handle so many kids in the movie I believe he could deal with a ranting partner just fine

- He knows how to avoid frustration with you

S/O:

- Finds everything you do cute (c’mon it’s Bruce)

- He loves your arts & crafts

- Probably more than you

- Just like John he likes to you see you flustered with that big frizz on your head

- Your hair is constantly poofy because this man never stopsssss

“Hey (____) did it hurt when you fell?”

“Huh?”

“When you fell. From heaven?”

“Bruce you’re litteraly gonna kill me and my hair…”

- Definitely helps you get the knots out afterward 😭

Clay:

Friends:

- He hangs around Viva so the rambling is nothing new to him

- Always tries to hide you from Viva because he knows you two would be a unstoppable force ( plus poppyyyyy?!?)

- Hates when you feel insecure in any kind of way possible

- So just like you leave him little sketches, he leaves little notes of affirmations for you to read

- And makes you read them

- Outloud

“I am so pretty, beautiful, smart, talente- Clay do I have to keep-”

“Keep going.”

“Ok but-”

- Extremely intense eye contact

sighhhhhhhh “I am talented, I am kind, I am loyal…”

S/O:

- One of the most respectful boyfriends in the world

- Eventually gives in and let’s you and Viva mingle (possibly a bad descion!!??)

- Astonished by what your hair is capable of (can’t show his excitement tho cause he’s not a fun boy anymore right?)

- He is a words of affection (and physical touch sjejkemsjks) kinda guy so as your boyfriend he’s all you could ask for

- So now your attached to this man like glue and it’s kind of his fault

- Has to pry you off sometime but he will never stop loving you the same

“I love youuuuuu.”

“I love youuuuuu too.”

Branch:

Friend:

- Just like Clay he’s friends with Poppy so he’s used to the talking behavior (no Boppy in thissss 😔)

- You guys didn’t exactly hit it off at first either

- You met him during his “no color” era so that makes most of the sense

- ntgl when he first finds out about your hair he’s thrown off

- And the other trolls had so much fun with it that he considered you a distraction from the bergens soooo he wasn’t too fond of you

- And it takes a while but eventually you both become inseparable

“You hated me for no reason, and now I’m your favorite.”

“Yeah yeah.”

S/O:

- He’s growing as in character development

- So now instead of getting upset he uses your hair to read you

- He never really knows when he’s doing anything right or wrong as far as the relationship so he depends on your hair to know which path to take

- Your info dumping soothes him, wether he likes it or not

- He plays it off subtly but he knows how to fluster you and he takes pride in that (*AHEM* SINGING)

Poppy:

Friend:

- Doesn’t even realize that you’re rambling cause she’s doing it too

- You both are a special duo that at one point drove Branch up a tree (no pun intended)

- As much as the trolls like you, they don’t realize how actually dangerous you two could be together 😭

- And you can imagine the fear on Branch’s face when he finds out Viva and Poppy are sisters

S/O:

- Everyone knows Poppy is a scrapbooking master so when she begins to receive little arts and crafts from you she’s in love

- Like she’s bouncing off the wall excited

- Literally (it’s Poppy)

- She’s superrr touchy-feely so your living your best life

- Your hair is so fun and amusing to her

- Like JD she might try to scare you a couple times to see your hair spike up for fun but cuddles you after

“I’m sorry sweetieeee you know I can’t help it. Your hair is just so fun!”

“Poppyyyy you say that everytimeeee!”

Viva:

Friends:

- Basically Poppy’s doppelgänger so what can you expect?!

- Always rambling but somehow always manages to do it more than you

- She might just be you plus Poppy times five

- Clay tried to help you hide your hair for the sake of you and Viva

- Unfortunately she popped up out of nowhere startling you both and causing your hair to go erratic

“So so sorry guys I didn’t mean to…OMG YOUR HAIR!”

S/O:

- Everything you could ask for from a girlfriend

- Like she literally could not have given you anymore

- She loves your art works

- She loves to hear you talk and join in with you

- She loves the touchy-feely type

- She literally can’t find a single flaw in you whatsoever

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bloatedandalone04 · 2 years ago

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Open Invitation

➪the one where hayden’s day off with you gets interrupted.

Warnings: smut, fluff, oral (f receiving), dirty talk, established relationship, interrupted smut, sexting, teasing, swearing (omg), part 2 is where the fun begins...

Word Count: 4k

Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡

The fact that Hayden was given the day off today was a miracle. He had been in and out of the house so often that he was beginning to feel overworked, but he would never say that out loud.

He loves his job and loves what he gets to do, so he would never voice out the few downsides he felt came with it.

The biggest downside was his limited time he had with you before he had to be on set. How limited? Some days it was non-existent as he was usually out of the house before you even woke up. Other days it was a mere few minutes before he was running the risk of being late.

It also didn’t help that he was always exhausted whenever he returned home, so he couldn’t stay up late and spend the rest of the night with you like he wanted.

This project was a bit different than the others, though. Instead of needing to leave you for months on end, the film was being made on a set that was half an hour from where you two lived, so he got to wake up and go to sleep next to you every night. It was a change he quickly found himself growing accustomed to, although he knew that he’d have to actually leave you again in the future once this movie was done.

For now, he was content with coming back home to you after a long day’s worth of filming.

Today he had no scenes to film and was given the day off, something he had told you about beforehand so you weren’t waking up early to see him off like you always tried to do. It was nearing ten in the morning when he woke up, the extra four hours of sleep he got had left him feeling more rested than he had in a while.

Looking to his left, Hayden squinted at the small stream of sunlight that crept through the gap in the black-out curtains and left a line of light that stretched across the room. He felt you shift beside him and he turned to look at you, a small smile gracing his lips when he realized that you were holding his right hand in both of yours, still lost in sleep.

His left hand, adorning the silver band you put on him a few months prior on what could only be described as the best day of his life, reaches over and tucks your hair behind your ear. Your eyes moved behind your eyelids and he briefly wondered what you were dreaming about before the urge to take you into his arms became too much to resist.

It had been weeks since he was able to just hold you in the comfort of your own bed without having to rush afterwards. He missed you, despite still seeing you everyday. Maybe he was selfish, but he strongly believed that no time would ever be long enough when it came to you.

He inched closer to you, keeping his hand locked in yours as he moved his head down to place a kiss to your collarbone. In his defense, your smooth skin was just asking for it, the way his oversized shirt hung loosely off your shoulders, exposing a fair amount of your skin to him. He places another kiss to your shoulder, and another to the base of your neck.

You moved slightly, your sleeping self tilting your head back and holding onto his hand tighter. He couldn’t help the prideful smirk that formed on his lip at how responsive you always are for him, even while you’re sleeping.

Without waking you up, Hayden somehow managed to move so he was hovering over you, the sheets loosely wrapped around his waist and his hand still clasped in yours. He leans down to press a kiss to the corner of your mouth, his lips turning upwards when he sees your eyes open to meet his. “Good morning,” he said against your skin, allowing you to pull your hand from his so you could caress the side of his face.

Humming quietly, a lazy smile formed on your lips. “It is now,”

Hayden hummed back, a smirk forming on his lips as his mouth moved further down your body. “Just good?” He asks, pressing a kiss to the skin of your stomach, his shirt you stole having lifted and exposed your lower abdomen to him. “I can think of a way to make it better.”

His words have your chest tightening in excitement. “Oh, yeah?” You ask, biting down on your lower lip to stop the growing grin as sleep slowly begins leaving your body. “How?”

A kiss was placed on your hip, then another on the opposite one, before his teeth were tugging on the thin lace that covered your core. “By having you come around my tongue within minutes after waking up,”

Your face heats up at his words, a deep blush fanning across your cheeks as he tugs the fabric down your legs. “Hm, looks like someone woke up wanting me,” you tease, instinctively reaching down to grab his left hand as you felt his breath against your heat.

“I always wake up wanting you,” he replied before his tongue poked out and licked a stripe up your folds, eliciting a sharp inhale from you. Your free hand immediately reached for his hair, the strands a freshly dyed dark brown for his role.

Hayden wasn’t one to turn away from physical changes to his appearance for his roles, whether that be in the form of a new hair color, weight loss or gain, or a fair amount of facial hair that needed to be grown. You remembered the time when he had to gain more than a couple of pounds in muscle for his role as Anakin for Revenge of the Sith, and you vividly remember how infatuated you had become with his body and his determination to reach his goal.

His dedication to his job was a massive turn on, so you were more than happy to indulge in his latest appearance change, even if it wasn’t a drastic one.

Hayden with dark hair was just…..damn near edible, for a lack of better words.

His words go right through you and you can’t help but agree with him, “I wake up wanting you, too,” you barely get out, your voice sounding more breathy than normal.

He grinned against you, his eyes fixated on yours as he focused his attention on the small bundle of nerves just above where he licked a stripe. You tear your eyes away from his as you turn your head, the bright red numbers of the clock on his nightstand staring back at you.

10:03 AM.

You bite your lip in a grin, your hand tightening its hold on his as you take in the fact that you’d have him all to yourself for the whole day. It was rare for him to get days off in the middle of filming a movie, so you were taking what you could get with open arms.

And, as per his request, open legs.

Your eyes meet his once again as you sink further into the pillow, and the look he gave you while his tongue circled your clit had a loud moan leaving your lip. He looked at you with hooded eyes, his piercing blue irises staring into yours as his arm wraps under your thigh and his hand presses against your hip.

“Fuck,” you nearly laugh in disbelief at just how lucky you had gotten. The hottest guy you had ever seen in your life was your husband, and was currently waking you up in the best way possible.

Hayden smirks at your reaction, his tongue gently but firmly massaging your clit. You softly tug on his hair, the deep groan he lets out sending a searing jolt up your body. Your hips try to lift but are unable to due to his tight hold on you, his hand pinning you back down. “Do you like it when I do that?” He asks, his voice deep and eyes dark with lust.

You nod, a hum of confirmation leaving your lips.

“Mhm,” he hummed back, creating another wave of vibration through you.

“Fuck,” you press your brows together at the feeling, refraining from bucking your hips upwards as you knew he would just hold you down. “Do that again.”

Hayden’s tongue swirled around your nerves before his open mouth closed around them, sucking your clit as he moaned around it.

Your eyes roll back as your legs begin to shake, the stimulation becoming too much to handle a mere five minutes after waking up. Still, you allowed him to continue.

A sharp breath leaves you when his teeth graze over the nerve, your stomach twisting in an all too familiar feeling. Your back arches then immediately falls back down onto the bed when his phone went off from its place on his nightstand.

Your high quickly fades away as his mouth leaves your core and he lifts himself up, the sheets falling from his form as he reaches over to grab the still ringing phone.

“Are you serious?” You ask as you try to regulate your breathing.

“Sorry,” he says as he kneels next to you. “I meant to turn this off last night.”

Hayden was about to ignore the call when he saw the name of the assistant director. His brows furrowed as he held his finger up, half to silence your annoyed whine and half to let you know that he had full intention on picking up where he left off once he was done with the call.

He was met with the assistant’s pitiful voice when he answered the call on the fourth ring. “Hey, I’m really sorry, Mr Christensen,” he started and Hayden felt his heart fall, already knowing exactly what this call was about. “But we actually need you on set today. I apologize for the late notice, I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

He could’ve rolled his eyes at the irony of those words. ‘Actually, yeah, you are’ he wanted to say but held back, instead settling on giving you a forced smile as you took his free hand in yours. “No, not at all,” he says and watches as you turn his wedding band around his finger a few times, boredom quickly falling over you. “What time am I expected to be there for?”

He hated that he was asking that, and he hated the way your eyes widened slightly as you tried to figure out what they were talking about. Hayden could only hope that he had at least a few more hours with you before he was called off to set.

“Yeah, um,” Charlie, the assistant, trailed off and a rummaging sound was heard in the background. “We were hoping you were able to come in, say….right now?”

Hayden’s eyes left you as his head fell back in a silent groan. He stared up at the ceiling in dread, feeling the bed dip as you pushed yourself up to copy his kneeling stance. “Right,” he started, feeling your hands tug on his arm in an attempt to get him to look at you. It worked as his guilty eyes met your confused expression. “Uh, yeah, that’s….fine. I’ll be there soon.”

Your face falls at his words and he barely hears the relieved cheer from Charlie before he’s hanging up and frustratingly tossing his phone onto the bed. You watch as it hits the soft comforter before you look back up at him. “What was that?” You ask but fear you know damn well what it was. “Do not tell me you just got called onto set.”

The conflicted look he gave you was all the confirmation you needed.

“Oh, my- and you said yes?” Any and all rational and reasonable thoughts were out the window at this point.

He gave you a look. “I kind of had to,”

You whine and fall back onto the pillows, your hands reaching for the sheets as you huff. “I cannot believe you woke me up, went down on me but didn’t let me finish, and now you’re leaving just when things were getting good,” you mutter before adding, “And doing all that on your off day? Unbelievable.”

You weren’t mad, not really. You understand how unpredictable his job can be, so you’re usually prepared for things like him getting called in on his days off, or him having to cancel plans.

You just wish the timing wasn’t this bad.

“I’m sorry, baby,” he leans over to place a kiss to your head before quickly getting up. He throws on a t-shirt and dark jeans in a matter of seconds, completing the simple look with one of his many hats in an attempt to cover his messy hair - the result of your relentless tugging. “I’ll make it up to you.”

He grabs his phone from the bed and his keys from the nightstand before looking at your unmoving form still half under the covers.

He laughs at the grumpy look you wore. “I promise,” he says before heading towards the door. He pauses halfway under the frame, his hand on the doorknob. “I love you.”

You fight off a smile and cross your arms as he waits for you to say it back. “I love you, too,” you give in and watch as a grin takes over his face before he’s closing the door behind him.

It was probably in Hayden’s best interest to have not woken you up this morning as it was nearing twelve in the afternoon and you had yet to be able to fall back asleep.

You were far too turned on to ignore the constant throbbing in your core, no matter how many times you tossed and turned. The ache just didn’t go away, and your husband was the one to blame.

You longed to feel the soothing muscle of his tongue on your most private part again, itched to have his hands pinning down your hips and moans pulsating through your core.

He was a tease, you came to that conclusion pretty quickly when you realized that there was no way you’d be able to go back to sleep. Not with the emptiness between your legs and the build up of your high still lingering in your body.

It only made sense that if he got to get you all riled up then leave, you could also do the same to him. Sort of.

You wouldn’t be able to leave him as he was on a closed off set, and if you were being honest, you didn’t feel like using your set pass to go rile him up in person, anyway.

Throwing off the sheets, you lazily push yourself up and off the bed.

In the bathroom connected to your shared room, you prop yourself up on the marbled countertop, the hem of his shirt reaching just past the middle of your thighs. You grab your phone and snap a picture of yourself from your shoulders down, your chest, torso and thighs being the only things shown. Still, you knew the sight of your bare legs would get a reaction out of him, even if it was just a small one.

Still upset you left so suddenly this morning :( I miss you

You add the photo and send it to him, not entirely sure when he’d be able to get the chance to see it.

His response came quicker than you expected it to - a mere five minutes after you sent the photo.

Hayden <3: I’m sorry :( I miss you, too. I like that photo, wish I could see your pretty face, though.

A blush spreads across your cheeks as you read his text, a feeling of mischief rising inside you. You jump down from the counter and make your way back into the room, running the tip of your finger along the wooden surface of the dresser. Pulling open the top drawer, you hold back a smirk as you pick up the light pink lace you only wear on special occasions.

There was nothing special about today, but the plan currently brewing in your head was just too good to pass up.

Hayden carried a feeling of guilt within him during the entire drive to set, and even carried it during the filming of his scenes.

Part of him was mad at the crew as he was promised a day off, one he was given weeks in advance and one he had all planned out, and the other part of him was….well..horny.

Going down on you wasn’t just for your pleasure, but also for his. He loved doing it, loved the sounds you made with his head between your thighs, and loved how responsive you always are to him.

He wished he was with you right now. He had been counting down the days until he was able to stay in and spend a full day with you, who was always so understanding and someone he was beyond grateful for. Hayden was convinced there was no one else in the world better than you.

There was no telling when he’d be given another day off, with reshoots and edits and all that coming after he finishes filming. He just wants one day, one day to have you all to himself without worrying about his job, one day to do whatever he pleases.

The next few months will be brutal.

My Wife: I can show you something better than just my pretty face ;)

Hayden had very little time to prepare himself for the sight he was met with when he clicked on the photo.

Attached to your text was a picture of your chest, the length of your body on full display except for the parts he desperately wanted to see, which were covered by the pink lace set you had worn more than once. His favorite.

He couldn’t be more grateful that he was given a few minutes to himself before he was due for his next scene.

Bringing his phone closer to him and away from the multiple crew members that were in the same room as him, he hastily types out his reply before trying to keep himself calm.

Don’t do this to me.

Please.

He should’ve known you wouldn’t give up easily. And part of him didn’t want you to. An even bigger part of him wanted you to continue to send him pictures like the one you just sent now, this one being a close up of your chest with one of the straps of the bra falling from your shoulder.

My Wife: Do what?

My Wife: I’m just giving you some motivation to get home faster.

He was so screwed.

He wasn’t able to type out another reply before the screen switched to one that showed an incoming call from you. He answered almost immediately, turning away from the crew and refraining from running his hand through his recently styled hair. “Y/n,” he says rather than greeting you in the usual way and you only laugh quietly on the other end, making his heart skip a beat at the sound.

“Hi, honey,” you say cheerfully, twirling your hair around your index finger as you sat on the edge of the bed you had just made. “Did you like my pictures?”

“You need to stop,” he says, trying to sound stern but failing miserably.

He could picture the pout you wore as you ask, “Why? Don’t you like them?” Your voice gave away any act you were trying to put on as your words dripped with a teasing tone. “I took them just for you. Here, this one is better.”

The phone vibrated against his ear and he pulled it away just as another picture flashed on the screen, this one being of your lower half. The lace was pulled high up, revealing only an inch or two of your core and he was now beginning to feel desperate again, wanting so badly to be back at home with you. Heat washes over his body and he groans in both desperation and dread at what was bound to happen if you kept teasing him like this. “Baby, stop,”

Your laugh meets his ear once again as he brings his phone back up to plead with you. He was seconds away from being called back to set and there was no way he’d return when he felt as though all of his blood had rushed to his length. “If that’s what you want,” you trail off as you lay back against the bed, your free hand resting dangerously low on your stomach. “I guess I’ll just have to find something else to entertain myself with.”

“I’m sorry, angel,” he sighs and rubs his forehead as he meets the director’s eyes. He gestures for him to come back over and Hayden nods quickly and turns back around. “I’ll be home as soon as I can, I promise, I-”

He abruptly stops talking when he hears a sound he had heard from you too many times to count now. The hushed whisper you had let out when he was saying his goodbyes….it was borderline a moan. There was no way you’re…touching yourself, right?

He stays silent and waits a few seconds to see if you would make another noise, secretly wanting to hear you again.

When you remain silent he tries again. “I gotta go, baby, I’ll see you soon-”

Another quiet whimper leaves your lips and successfully shuts him up for the second time. “How soon?” You murmur and let out a low hum as your wandering hand travels further down your body. “You know I can get impatient sometimes.”

“Sometimes?” He forces out a laugh before dropping his voice to a lower tone. “Are you doing what I think you’re doing right now?”

He wasn’t sure why he was asking, or what he even wanted the answer to be. He’d no doubt become even more turned on, but he’d also feel a bit frustrated that it wasn’t him who was touching you.

“I might be,”

“Seriously?” He groaned then quickly moved away when one of the stage crew members gave him a funny yet concerned look. His voice dropped in a hushed whisper, “This isn’t fair.”

“I can’t help it,” you defend yourself weakly as the tip of your index finger finds the semi-sensitive outline of your clit through the pink lace. “You made me feel so good this morning, baby, then you just left. That was pretty unfair, too, Hayden.”

“I know,” he groaned out, glancing back at the director and giving a quick thumbs up to let him know that he was almost done. “I wish I was there with you right now….wish that I was inside you. I miss your taste so much.”

His words make your finger pause as they sink in, the filth masked behind his kind voice unfamiliar. Usually it was you who did most of the dirty talk, so to hear it come from him was rare yet it never failed to leave you breathless, hopelessly clenching around nothing.

“I’d do anything to be back at home with you, to hear those beautiful sounds you make for me,” he was returning the teasing completely now, your plan backfiring and now leaving you both sexually frustrated beyond belief. “To be buried so deep in you. I can’t stand to be away from you, pretty girl.”

A desperate whimper leaves your lips, unknowingly making Hayden’s jeans tighten a bit, and you sigh heavily.

You bring your hand back up and rest it over your stomach once again, deciding to hold off until you see him later on, no matter how badly you wanted to feel a sense of relief. “Then hurry up and film your scenes so you can get back home to me,”

Part 2

#hayden christensen #hayden christensen imagine #hayden christensen x reader #hayden christensen gif #hayden christensen edit #hayden christensen smut #anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker x female reader #anakin skywalker x you #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker imagine #anakin smut #anakin skywalker smut #clay beresford #clayton beresford #clay beresford x reader #clay beresford imagines

2K notes · View notes

tbyfandoms · 1 month ago

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Heart to Heart | Clay Beresford x Reader

Pairing: clay beresford x f!doctor!reader

Word Count: 16.2k

Summary: after crossing paths and connecting with new york’s most well known businessman, you end up in a whirlwind situation that’ll change your life forever

Warnings: reader is a heart transplant recipient, descriptions of heart transplant procedures and the healing process, mentions of overdosing and death of a mother, mild swearing

Masterlist/Request Form | Ask/Tell/Request

A/N: clay beresford, my angel bb! I was literally so excited when I got this request. I’m so absolutely obsessed with the awake movie and I think hayden did such a good job as clay. I literally need all the content for my little nyc golden retriever lmao! I really like how this turned out and I hope ya’ll do too. thank you sm to the person who requested this! enjoy and lmk what you think <3

Sterile.

That’s the only word you can ever come up with to describe the feeling of walking into the hospital each day. The white tiles, the bright lights, the almost burning scent of alcohol; it’s all so much to take in but somehow it also gives you a sense of peace.

Every time you come in through those doors it’s like a fresh start. No matter what happened the day before, no matter the heartbreaks or victories, the moment you step inside it’s another chance at new opportunities. It’s one of the reasons you love working here so much, love doing what you do. There are a lot of uncertainties in your line of work, but there are some risks worth taking.

Rounding the corner you start going over what you need to do today. Residency has been a whirlwind of an experience and every day is different from the last, but over the past few months since you’ve been at this hospital, you’ve started to get somewhat of a routine down. At least when you start your day it’s kind of the same every time, giving you a moment of normalcy until the real fun begins.

Changing into your scrubs in the locker room, you nearly jump as one of your coworkers, Jill, comes up beside you.

“Hey!” She squeaks, a gleam in her eyes you know all too well. She’s definitely up to something.

“Jesus, stop doing that to me! You’re gonna kill me one of these days,” you grumble. Shutting your locker you sit on the bench to change into your comfortable work shoes. They’re not the prettiest but they do wonders for your back and feet during these long shifts you endure.

“Sorry! But you’ll never guess who I just saw walk in with Dr. Harper.”

“Who?” You inquire—Jill’s giddy smile and shifty eyes beginning to freak you out.

“Clay Beresford,” she whispers, moving closer to you on the bench to ensure no one else can hear. Not like anyone would considering the two of you are the only people in the locker room.

“Really?” The name isn’t at all unfamiliar. If you live in this city, you know who Clay Beresford is, or his name at the very least. The man owns half the city at this point, and you wouldn’t be surprised if he owned all of it by the time he hit 30. All inherited from his father and even from his own doing too. You’ve seen a bit about him here and there in the papers and on the news. It surprises you how young he is and yet he’s already accomplished so much. It’s inspiring to put it plainly, especially considering how much good he’s done for the underprivileged.

It doesn’t surprise you Jill’s seen Clay here. When you started working at this hospital the gossip was everywhere. You couldn’t chat with a coworker without Clay Beresford being brought up. Apparently he has a bad heart and suffered a massive heart attack not long before you started. It was clear to you then that he didn’t have much time left without a transplant, and that was a while ago. You’re surprised he hasn’t been able to receive one yet considering his status, but amongst the whispers you were able to piece together that his blood type is rare and thus the transplant waiting game began. You’re unfortunately more familiar with that game than you’d like to be—having had your own heart transplant just a few short years ago.

No pun intended but your heart aches for Clay. You know that fear and anxiety he must be facing isn’t easy. The wait for a transplant is brutal enough as it is, but dealing with that is only half the battle. The road to recovery is a long and painful one and you just hope he has the support he’ll need once he does have the surgery. You’re not sure why your mind wanders to thoughts like that when you think of Clay, maybe it’s the transplant sympathizer in you, but there’s also just a part of you that feels like the Beresford heir is so much more than the media and other people make him out to be.

It’s sad, really, when you think about it. In reality Clay’s just like any other person trying to keep on living and get healthy, yet he’s talked about around the hospital as if HIPPA doesn’t exist. Sure he has money and power—as much as a man in New York could have—but that doesn’t change the fact he’s just a 20-something year old guy fighting for his life. You just wish more people saw it that way and wished him well instead of questioning what’s gonna happen to his company if he doesn’t make it out alive.

“-and I mean ohmygod I only saw him for a split second but I swear he is one of the most beautiful men I’ve ever laid my eyes on.” So lost in your own thoughts, you hadn’t even realized Jill has been going off on a tangent about her encounter with Clay.

“Wait, so did you talk to him?” Your eyebrows knit together as you look over at your friend, suddenly needing her to go back several steps in her story.

“No, I told you when I saw him walking down the hall with Dr. Harper I said hello to Doctor and that was it. I couldn’t exactly blurt out Clay’s name like I knew him. If I had I mean hello, stalker much?” You try to bite back your smirk, wanting to tell her that’s exactly what this whole conversation paints her out to be, but you let it go. Jill is always one for the dramatics. “But I did look at him as I was passing by and he smiled at me and nodded and honestly after that I’d say I’m pretty content with life now.”

Giggling, you shake your head. “You’re somethin’ else you know that, Jill?”

“Awh, c’mon! You can’t tell me you wouldn’t just die to have a conversation with Clay Beresford,” Jill teases, poking you softly in the side to try and egg you on. You swat her hand away playfully and roll your eyes.

“It’s not like he’s royalty. Sure he’s attractive and rich but so are a lot of men, some not so favorable.”

“Okay but he might as well be! He’s about as close as you can get to royalty in New York! And that’s the point, he’s not part of those not so favorable men. He seems like a really great guy! I know you think so too, I’ve heard your thoughts on him before. It’s good to have guys like him having a hand in what goes on in this city. God knows we need the help.”

“You got all of that out of a smile and a nod?” This time it’s Jill’s turn to roll her eyes and the two of you laugh lightly as you get up from your spots on the bench.

“Whatever, I’m just saying! You’ll understand where I’m coming from when you meet him in person.”

Reaching for the door handle you look back at Jill. “I doubt that’ll ever happen. I can’t think of one instance where he and I will ever end up in the same room together.”

“It’s possible, I mean look at me! I was just walking down the hall ready to come get you and there he was in all his glory,” she smiles. “I’m honestly surprised you haven’t run into him yet considering all the times he’s here. I know he’s always with Harper when he is here and you’re not usually on his service, but still. I’m also surprised Harper hasn’t introduced the two of you considering your history. You could probably give Clay some tips, you know.”

Turning the thought over in your head you realize that’s not actually a bad observation or idea. “You know you’re actually right. I do have first hand experience with that stuff…but I mean so does Dr. Harper. Sure he’s never experienced a transplant personally but he’s performed them countless times. He probably knows better than me everything that goes along with getting a new heart. I’m just a resident, what could I really help Clay with?”

Jill hums, a sign that means she’s not giving up. “There’s nothing better than talking to someone who’s actually gone through what they have. Respectfully, Dr. Harper can tell Clay all he wants about the process but you’ve actually lived it. I’m just saying it wouldn’t be the worst thing if you happened across him and were able to at least ease his mind if nothing else. Transplants are scary and dangerous, especially heart ones, but you’re proof they actually work and that he has a fighting chance.”

Glancing at your coworker you can see it in her eyes she’s being sincere. Sure Jill likes to joke a lot and is more unserious than not half the time, but she does have her moments and you’ve certainly found yourself in one. It warms your heart that she actually thinks you could be of any help to fellow transplant recipients, even if this whole conversation only started because of the fact she’s attracted to a patient.

“Thanks, Jill. Look I promise if I happen to see Clay Beresford I’ll make sure to give him all my expert advice on dealing with a heart transplant.” Saying it out loud kind of sounds ridiculous to you, still not believing the idea you’d ever even have a chance to talk to the businessman. But it seems to be enough for the woman beside you because in an instant she’s excitedly clapping her hands.

“Goodie! Now, let’s get serious.” Grabbing onto your arm as the two of you continue walking, she leans her head closer to yours—reminding you of when you were both in the locker room. “Do you think Clay has a girlfriend?”

And she’s back.

*****

After parting ways with Jill, you find yourself wandering the halls. A patient had asked you for directions and you took it upon yourself to just lead them to where they needed to go, finding it much easier to do instead of trying to explain it. Sometimes you swear you still get lost around here too.

You’ve ended up a long ways away from where you need to be so you’re quickly trying to find the easiest way back. You don’t have much to do right now but you’d still rather be closer to your assigned doctor for the day in case something comes up. Anything can happen and you want to be accessible if help is needed. You’re eager to learn any and all new skills whenever you can, plus you have a feeling it helps when doctors are deciding who gets to join in on surgeries, which—if you’re being honest—is the goal.

Turning the corner, you cut through the hallway where some of the operating rooms are. You’ve found yourself here countless of times in the past few months, either helping out with low-risk surgeries or merely observing. It gives you a rush in the moment, makes your heart beat a little faster, and although you know super high stress and a rapid heartbeat isn’t the best for you and your condition—it makes you feel alive. The rush and the heavy thumps of your heart remind you of all you’ve been through, all you’ve survived, and it makes you even more grateful to still be here. Grateful to still be able to go out there and help people just like you’ve always wanted.

Smiling at the thought, you quicken your steps, eager to get back to work and see what the day has in store for you. Though before you get much further, you look off to the side and see a doctor rapidly approaching you. It’s Dr. Puttnam, one of the doctors that works closely with Dr. Harper.

You’ve worked on his service a few times before but each time you were itching to get away. There’s just something about him you find a little off. Part of it is probably the way he so easily cracks jokes in the operating room while cutting open a patient and how he seems so cocky with everything he does. It’s like there’s this missing piece of humanity in him, he gives you the impression he only cares about himself and you constantly find yourself wanting to roll your eyes in his presence. You and Jill have talked about him before and she feels the same way you do—if not stronger. The two of you always tease each other when one of you unfortunately gets put on his service, and as he approaches you you pray he’s not here to tell you today’s one of those instances. That’d really put a damper on your mood right now.

“Y/N! Glad to run into you. Hey, do me a favor and let Dr. Harper know to saddle up. Riordan’s cabbage is in the ICU bleedin’. He took off for the fuckin’ vineyard so we gotta get in there. Harper’s supposedly in one of the operating rooms so just find him and let him know I’ll be waiting, thanks!”

You don’t even get a chance to respond because in an instant he’s back to rushing down the hallway. See this is exactly why you don’t like him. Who talks like that about another patient? It’s like taking care of people is a chore for him…as if it’s not his job.

Ugh.

Trying to not let it get to you, you take a peek in the operating room closest to you. You can see Dr. Harper through the window and can tell he’s talking to someone but you can’t see who it is. You’re pretty sure he didn’t have any surgeries this morning so you’re confused on why he’s even inside. You shrug and push on the door, feeling the weight of it as it slides open.

When you walk in you catch the tail-end of Harper’s conversation. “You might not have much of it left, okay?”

Your eyes cut from the doctor to the figure that moves on the operating table. As you step further into the room you nearly trip over your feet as you stop dead in your tracks. Laying on the operating table, forearms holding up the top half of his body, and staring straight at you, is Clay Beresford himself.

Oh my god?

For some reason you figured Clay would’ve been gone by now. Sure you knew he was with Dr. Harper, but considering his job you just assumed it’d be quick. You never thought in a million years you’d walk in on him laying on an operating table fully clothed and apparently discussing something serious with Dr. Harper. It’s strange but you’re also intrigued.

“Ah, Miss Y/L/N! How can I help you?” Harper’s voice breaks you out of your trance and you pray the heat you feel flush through your body isn’t visible as you finally look away from the blonde just a few feet in front of you.

“Dr. Harper, I-I’m sorry to interrupt! I didn’t know you were with a…” Words fail you as your eyes flit to Clay once again, taking note of the soft smile adorned on his face. Finally the word you’re looking for comes to mind and you shift your focus back onto Harper. “Patient.”

“It’s quite alright, we were just finishing up.” Harper turns to Clay and from the tone of his voice and look on his face, you get the feeling you actually were interrupting. “Was there something you needed, Y/N?”

Before you can dive too deep into the possibilities of what it is Dr. Harper was talking to Clay about, you remind yourself of the actual reason you walked in here. “Yes! Sorry! Dr. Puttnam stopped me in the hall and told me there’s a bit of a-uh emergency?” Going over Puttnam’s words in your head you try to piece together a more respectful version of them. “Dr. Riordan’s patient is apparently bleeding out and he’s away on vacation so Dr. Puttnam said it’s up to the both of you to treat the patient now. It seemed urgent and he said he wants you to meet up with him in the ICU right away.”

A flash of shock crosses Dr. Harper’s face as he takes in your words and you can see him start to revert to hyperdrive-as most doctors do with news like this. “Oh I see, alright, thank you for letting me know.”

Harper places a hand on Clay’s shoulder and you take this moment to do a once over of the businessman as his attention is being drawn elsewhere. He’s wearing a grey suit that is of course fitted to perfection and he’s got some leather shoes (that you’re sure are worth more than your rent) to match.

It’s funny, you would think that considering his well-kept appearance and cookie cutter styling, the Beresford heir would be oozing the feeling of wealth and prestige. But instead all you see as you look at him sat on that operating table, looking up into the serious eyes of his doctor, is apprehension and uncertainty wrapped up in expensive packaging.

Clay may have practically all the money in the world and an empire of a business backing him, but it’s clear in the unspoken message passing between him and Dr. Harper that there’s a lot more involved than what the public knows. It’s apparent to you, just like you thought earlier, that there’s more to Clay Beresford than just his money and pretty face, that he too has things—people—he’s scared of losing.

You can’t help the downward dip in the corner of your lips as you think about it all, as you think about how you were in his exact same position not that long ago.

“I have to go,” Harper says as he steps away from Clay, but suddenly he stops and you watch as his gaze flutters back and forth between you and the blonde. A thought seems to occur to him and you swear you can see a smile start to form on his face. “I’m sorry, I completely forgot you two have never met before. I don’t know why I didn’t think to introduce you sooner. Y/N, this is Clay, he’s a patient of mine that’s awaiting a heart transplant. Clay, this is Y/N, she’s a resident here and is actually a heart transplant recipient herself.”

Now it’s your turn to be shocked. Where is Jill and how in the hell did she speak this into existence?

Before you get the chance to actually process the fact you’re being personally introduced to Clay, you watch as the man of the hour sticks out his hand for you to shake. You take a step forward and grasp it in your own, giving his hand a light shake as he nods his head and smiles up at you from his seat on the table.

“It’s very nice to meet you, Y/N,” he says.

“You as well, Clay.” A beat passes between the two of you just looking at each other and it’s in this instance you notice how blue Clay’s eyes are. They’re pale blue—like the sky—and you find yourself hoping that a cloud never passes through them.

God, get it together, Y/N.

Letting go of Clay’s hand, you take a step back and put some distance between you. The pictures of him on the news and in the paper so do not do him justice. You take a second to remind yourself Clay’s still a patient of this hospital and, yeah, you’re still an employee of it too. Oops?

“Remember what I said, Clay. No regrets. The clock’s ticking,” Harper says as he walks backwards towards the door. As he faces forward and grabs onto the handle, he stops and turns towards you both again. “You know, Y/N, while you’re here maybe you can give Clay a little advice and insight on the importance and weight of this surgery? Have a little…heart to heart, if you will.”

The doctor smiles at you both before he disappears through the door, leaving you and Clay alone in the operating room.

As the door softly closes, you swear you could hear a pin drop in the silence that follows. For being a bustling hospital it sure is quiet out there…

“So, you’re a heart transplant recipient?” Clay breaks the silence first and you’re grateful for it. You’re not sure what you would’ve even opened a conversation like this with. What does Harper expect you to say? Hey, Clay! This surgery is super scary and you might die, but stay positive!

To be fair, it’s not like that’s a lie per say, but it’s incredibly blunt and you’re definitely not the type of person to just dish something out like that and move on.

“I am,” you start, finding it hard to fully look into the blonde’s eyes again. They’re so intense you’re not sure you’ll be able to be alone with him in this room, look into them, and not completely lose your mind. “It was a while back, nothing extremely recent, but yeah. It was…an experience.”

You don’t even know how to articulate the proper words to explain to Clay how monumental something like a heart transplant is. He’s not stupid, there’s no doubt he knows the risks, but having experienced it yourself and knowing first hand what’s it’s like on the other side of it all is hard to summarize.

“I bet it was,” Clay practically whispers. It’s in this moment you notice he’s lost some of that front he was obviously putting up for Dr. Harper. That joking edge in his tone is gone and is instead replaced by unknowingness. “Dr. Harper has tried to explain to me over and over how important and serious this surgery is, and I get it I really do, but there’s still a part of me that is completely lost on it all. I think if I believe it’s not that bad and just act like everything is fine that it will be. But I know that’s not how it works.

“I’ve tried to talk to Dr. Harper about it but it never comes out the way I want it to. I feel like it would kind of fall on deaf ears anyways. At the end of that surgery Dr. Harper will still be alive. I’m the only one in that operating room who has a chance at not making it back out of there and that terrifies the hell out of me.” Clay let’s out a breathy laugh, not because he finds anything actually funny, but because of the fact he can’t believe he actually said that out loud.

Since the moment he found out he needed this surgery, he’s never once vocalized the very real possibility of what can happen. He’s heard it spoken a dozen times to and around him, but never once has he heard it be spoken in his own voice. The weight on his shoulders seems to somehow get even heavier.

You know Clay is a busy man and that there isn’t a lot of time here to get through to him. But you feel your heart practically shatter in your chest at the blonde’s words, and it’s at this point you decide you’ll try your best, because for some reason the universe has given you this opportunity to be there for someone in your position—something you unfortunately didn’t have. You won’t stand to let Clay be in this alone. Family or not, the man clearly has no one around who’s gone through what he has and you refuse to let him deal with it on his own any longer.

“Clay,” you say, taking tentative steps towards him, not wanting to cross a boundary but also wanting to be close enough so he really hears what you’re about to say. “Dr. Harper isn’t wrong when he says how risky this surgery is. There is a very high chance that you will go to sleep on that table and never wake up.”

Clay’s eyes flick to yours and suddenly that jittery feeling you had looking into them earlier is gone. Now you only feel sincerity and determination as you look into them.

“I don’t want you to take that as me believing you won’t survive this, though. I mean look at me, I know first hand exactly what you’re going through, what you will go through, and I am still here. I am alive and healthy and proof that this can work for you too. I don’t know everything Dr. Harper has told you or asked of you, but I want you to know that you don’t have to let the fear control you. Yeah, this surgery is scary as hell. I didn’t think I was going to make it either, but I did, and I’ve lived every day since knowing this transplant is not a death sentence. It’s a chance at a new life.”

Something flickers in Clay’s eyes and you swear you can tell you’re getting through to him, in whatever way that may be.

“Yes, there are risks, and yes I agree with Dr. Harper in the sense that you need to grasp the fact this surgery and it’s repercussions are very real, but that’s not all that’s important. Of course there are things you have to think about and take care of before going into this surgery, but you also need to take care of yourself. It is your life, Clay, and if I took away anything from when I had my own transplant surgery, it’s that no one else can get you through this the way you can. Your decisions are your own and you have to look after what’s important to you first, no matter what or who that may be. But just because there’s a chance you won’t survive, that doesn’t mean it’ll happen. You deserve to still be able to think about and plan your future. Dr. Harper is a good surgeon and I believe with all my heart that you will continue to have one.”

There’s a finality in your tone that you’re not quite sure on where it came from. Part of you feels like you were just standing on a soap box and maybe you shouldn’t have gone off on that little rant as much as you did, but from the look on Clay’s face you can tell it means the world to him.

“Y/N…why is it only now I’ve just met you?” Clay grins at you and you can feel your face flush at both his comment and awestruck gaze. “Somehow I feel things would’ve made a lot more sense earlier on if I would’ve met you when this all started. Not one person has ever made me feel the way you just did about this surgery. No one’s been able to give their honest thoughts and feelings on it all like that. This is the first time in almost a year that I’ve ever felt seen and heard.”

There’s a small blush on Clay’s cheeks and you revel in the way you words have affected him. You didn’t really have a plan, you kinda just went for it, so you’re glad it came off the way you wanted it to. If there’s anything Clay—or any transplant patient really—deserves is the chance to find solace in someone who can relate to them. Someone to help ease their fears, their burdens.

“There’s a lot of doctors and statistics involved in this whole thing, but there’s not a lot of relatability. Going through this process can be very lonely and nerve wracking, and I know we quite literally just met today but I want you to know I’m here for you, Clay. If you need someone that has any clue about what it’ll feel like, what the process of recovery is like, I’m here to answer those questions. Not everyone is the same, everyone’s transplant journey is different. But just know you no longer have to feel alone in this.”

As you finish your spiel, you try to hide your surprise at your own words. You’ve met this man officially mere minutes ago and yet here you are essentially offering up a shoulder to cry on. Even through your shock you find it weird how natural it feels.

“Thank you, Y/N, seriously,” Clay starts, clearly not feeling uncomfortable at the offer at all as an honest and warm smile adorns his face as he looks at you. “I’m gonna hold you to that.”

That heat makes its way back to your face as you stare at Clay, watching as his eyes look up at you through his lashes as he continues to sit on the operating table. In this position you have the tiniest bit of height advantage on him and you curse yourself for noticing how easy it would be to lean forward and wrap your arms around his neck and pull him into an embrace.

After a few more beats of comfortable silence, the two of you just enthralled in each other’s presence, a daring thought pops into your head. It probably crosses so many lines in regards to HIPPA and just doctor/patient morals in general, but you don’t want this to be the last you see of Clay. Who knows when he’ll be back the same time as you, or if you’ll even get the opportunity to stop and talk to him when you are at the hospital at the same time. You’ve seen a lot of articles recently about taking things into your own hands, making the first step, and apparently this is your moment to practice just that.

“Clay-“ You don’t even get the chance to attempt to be bold because the moment the blonde’s name leaves your lips, his phone is ringing and his gaze is ripped from your own as he reaches into his pocket in search of the source of the sound.

You watch as he looks down at the screen and in an instant every thought of absolutely anything happening between you two is immediately dismissed. It’s so obvious in the way Clay’s shoulders relax, the crease between his brow flattens, and how his whole face practically lights up that clearly whoever is on the other side of that phone call is someone the businessman is in love with.

“Hey, baby,” Clay coos softly in the phone, looking so at peace in an environment that is the complete opposite of it. And that confirms it.

Your shoulders slump forward and you’re unsure why you feel so deeply affected by all of this. You don’t know Clay at all, never would have under any other circumstance, so why does it hurt so much watching him talk sweetly to another woman?

Quickly, you stand up straighter and plaster a smile on your face as Clay’s eyes flick over to you, seeming to remember where exactly he is and who it is he was talking to before his phone rang.

Pulling the phone away slightly from his face, he smiles at you apologetically. “I’m sorry, I should really head out now. It was so nice to meet you.” Clay gets up from the operating table and you find yourself taking a step back as his full height comes into view and he consumes your space.

“Of course! It was nice to meet you too, Clay,” you reply, finding it hard to meet his eyes now. A twinge of embarrassment floods through you. How naïve of you to let yourself daydream about this becoming anything else than what it actually is; a doctor talking to a patient.

You watch his retreating back as he makes his way to the door and you find yourself firmly planted in the spot he’s leaving you in. You won’t lie, a part of you doesn’t want to follow in the risk you’ll go in the same direction and you’ll be forced to hear him whisper more sweet nothings to another woman.

As Clay opens the door, he pauses for a moment before turning back to you and nodding his head. “See you around.”

The door slowly closes behind him and you let out a breath of air you didn’t realize you were holding in.

“See you around, Clay.”

*****

“God, I cannot wait to go home, curl up in bed, and go to sleep. I’m exhausted,” Jill groans as she rubs the back of her neck with her hand, trying to ease some of the tension there.

“Tell me about it, I feel like it was so brutal today. I guess it makes sense considering it is Halloween, but still.” Rolling your head, you feel a couple cracks in your neck and you can’t help the hum of satisfaction that slips past your lips at the feeling.

“Oh shit, it is Halloween, isn’t it? I can’t believe I didn’t realize! Ugh all the good candy is probably sold out by now. You think some of the other doctors with families will bring in candy tomorrow they don’t want their kids to eat? I’d kill for a full size Hershey bar.”

You giggle over your friend’s comments and roll your eyes as you nudge her softly. “Jill, we can get those from the vending machines! Stop trying to mooch off of kids’ hard earned candy.”

“I know, but it tastes better when it’s from trick or treating! A-k-a when it’s free! Besides those kids don’t need it, cavities and all that.”

“Oh okay, I didn’t know you switched over to dentistry,” you laugh.

Jill rolls her eyes and smirks. “Yeah, yeah, whatever. Hey, are you even working tomorrow? You better or when I steal a kid’s candy bar, I’m not sharing with you.”

“You’ll have to indulge without me then because I’m off,” you shrug and then laugh as you watch Jill throw her head back with a groan.

“Ugh, so not fair, you lucky, lucky girl! I’m not off until the day after.”

“It’s okay, I’ll get my karma then because I’m working when you’ll be off, so it all balances out in the end.”

Jill tilts her head and hums satisfactorily at that realization. “Huh, you’re right. All is forgiven.”

The two of you laugh and you shake your head at your friend’s antics. You don’t know what you’d do without her.

As the two of you round the corner towards the front door, you both slow down as you take in the sight of a small group before you. It only takes you a second to recognize Clay and even less time to realize he’s with a girl. A very beautiful girl at that.

“Woah, who’s the babe with Clay? You think that’s…?” Jill tilts her head slightly towards you, wanting to get your insight.

You don’t even have to guess that that’s the woman the blonde was talking to earlier on the phone. As you get closer you realize Clay has his arm wrapped around her as well, and your stomach lurches a bit at the sight.

“Y/N!” Your eyes are immediately averted from Clay’s embrace around his—presumed—girlfriend, and instead become locked in with those of the man in question. Those pale blues look somehow even brighter, happier than they were this morning. From the looks on everyone else’s face as well, you can tell there’s a reason for it.

“Hey, Clay,” you smile, finding yourself and Jill now wrapped up in the small gathering. “What’s going on? What are you doing here so late? Is everything okay?”

“More than okay, Ms. Y/L/N! Clay here is getting his new heart tonight,” Dr. Harper chimes in. The smile that breaks out on your face is uncontrollable.

“What!? Clay, that’s amazing! Congratulations.” For a mere moment it feels like the two of you are the only ones standing there. Clay’s soft, grateful smile causes your cheeks to warm and a sense of adoration to flow through you.

The feeling swiftly leaves though as you pick up movement out of the corner of your eye. All too soon you’re brought back to the reality that you’re in a group of people, and the man you can’t stop fawning over is very much involved with whoever this woman is next to him.

Your eyes flit from Clay’s to the brunette woman’s and somehow Clay seems to pick up on it, lightly shaking his head in disbelief. “I’m so sorry, I haven’t introduced you two yet! Sam, this is Y/N, one of the doctors who works with Jack. Y/N, this is Sam; my wife.”

Wife.

The word rings out in your head and you have to fight the way it nearly knocks you off your feet. “H-Hi! It’s so nice to meet you.” You reach out your hand and Sam does the same, your eyes widening at the sight of her wedding ring as she grasps your hand in hers.

You quickly try to recover, not wanting to be too obvious with the way you’re feeling right now. Sam’s smile is big and infectious and you’re sure she doesn’t notice a thing.

Who would, knowing a man like the one next to her is her husband?

Lightly shaking your head, you let go of Sam’s hand and turn towards Jill, needing her now more than ever and also realizing she also deserves an introduction.

“And this is Jill! A friend of mine as well as a fellow doctor.” Jill wastes no time in taking Clay’s gaze off of you, moving in closer and sticking out her hand immediately.

“Hi! So great to officially meet you, Clay!” She says ecstatically before turning her head towards his wife and only slightly losing the excitement. “Sam.”

Clay grasps her hand in his and you can just tell by the look on her face that she’s eating this up. You have to hold yourself back from laughing. “I remember you! I saw you this morning while I was with Dr. Harper, right?”

You swear you see Jill die and then come back to life all in a split second. “Y-Yes, that was me!”

She miraculously lets go of Clay’s hand and you hear her let out a stunned huff as the takes a step back towards you. Not a second later you feel Jill poke you lightly in the side and you know immediately she’s never going to live this moment down.

You cover up the chuckle that escapes you by clearing your throat. As you regain yourself, you watch as Sam looks up at Clay and they seem to share a private moment, even while standing in the middle of a hospital. It’s evident the love they have for each other, the trust and admiration. It’s palpable and makes your heart squeeze, both in envy and despair.

You’d give anything to have a love like that. A man like that. Specifically that man in front of you, if you’re being completely honest.

“You girls heading home for the night?” A voice cuts into your stream of thought and you’re grateful for the opportunity to turn away from Clay and Sam.

It’s Dr. Puttnam, but you’re honestly not even mad about having to talk to him right now. You might even go as far as to say you’re thankful for him…maybe.

“Yeah, our shifts just ended so we’re on our way out,” you reply.

“Really? That’s too bad, I was hoping maybe you’d be here for the surgery. I figured since you work with Jack and all that you’d be in the operating room,” Clay says, drawing your attention right back to him.

“Oh-!” Clay’s words catch you off guard but also leave you feeling flattered. To think he wanted—no, wants—you in the operating room with him, it leaves you practically speechless. “Uh-no, I’m not on your case specifically, but I wouldn’t mind stepping in, if Dr. Harper is-“

“No!” You’re cut off by Harper himself and with his sudden exclamation, your excitement dwindles. An opportunity to be there for Clay in a way you didn’t think was possible would’ve been everything. Even besides that, to step in on a high profile heart transplant surgery this early in your career could’ve opened so many doors for you. You’re confused on the sudden shut down of the idea and by the look on Clay’s face, you’re not the only one. Harper clears his throat and gives a strained smile. “I mean, unfortunately that wouldn’t be possible. Although Y/N is more than capable of taking part in the surgery, due to the severity of this case I must insist we stick with only the original people assigned to this operation. We wouldn’t want to risk anything or have more people in the room than necessary.”

A valid reason, but still a disappointing one nonetheless. You just nod your head understandingly, your lips coming together in a tight line as you try to not let your upset emotions shine through.

“You could stick around in the waiting room with me? If you want to that is, I know you’re just getting off a shift. Clay told me earlier about the conversation he had with you and well, I just know it’d mean a lot to him to know you were around—at least in some capacity—for his surgery.” Your eyes snap to Sam and her offer takes you by surprise.

Damn, she’s nice, too? It’s gonna be really hard to dislike this woman.

You shift your gaze to the blonde before you and he nods his head lightly, encouraging the idea. Your decision is a no brainer. “I’d love to. Anything to help support Clay.”

“Great!” Puttnam cuts in with a clap of his hands. “The more, the merrier! I’m sure your mother will appreciate the company, Clay.”

The doctor looks on with a smile but it immediately drops as he takes in Clay’s concerned expression.

“What? Wait, she’s here?” Clay questions.

Clay and Harper share a look and you try to not come off as nosy as you attempt to read their expressions. It’s clear Dr. Harper and Clay have some sort of understanding with each other. It doesn’t seem odd considering their friendship, but it’s clear there’s some hesitation between them when it comes to Mrs. Beresford, at least from what you can tell.

“What? She’s on the call sheet,” Dr. Puttnam says in defense.

Clay sighs before turning to Sam. “I’m going to go deal with this and then I’ll meet back up with you. I think it’d be best if I just went with Jack to handle my mother.” Sam nods and you watch as the blonde leans in and plants a soft kiss on her forehead before turning back to the group.

You try to make yourself appear as if you didn’t just witness their tender moment by stepping a bit closer to Penny, trying to locate what room they’re gonna have Clay in.

“If you want,” you start, wanting to offer at least some sort of help. “I can take Sam up to the room you’ll be in. She can wait there until you’re ready to get changed for surgery.”

“Thank you, Y/N,” Clay smiles. “That’d be perfect.”

Trying to hide the blush you just know is beginning to coat your cheeks, you smile and nod your head before stepping away towards Jill. The look on her face makes her appear as if she’s just won the lottery and honestly just knowing how Jill is, her talking to Clay is her version of winning the lottery.

You roll your eyes affectionately and smirk as you physically feel how jittery with excitement she is as you pull her closer to you. “Well, I guess this is happening?”

“Holy shit! Yeah this is happening! Look at you getting all cosy with the Beresford family! This morning you didn’t even think you’d ever be in the same room as Clay let alone getting to talk to him and now be his personal on call girl.” There’s a suggestive look on your friend’s face and you feel yourself wanting to curl into a ball over the fact she said that when everyone else is barely five feet away.

“Jill!” You squeak. She begins to laugh and you hate the fact you feel yourself fighting back a chuckle as well. “I can’t believe you.”

“No, I can’t believe you. I’m heading home but go and get cosy with the apparent new Mrs. B.” Jill lowers her voice and leans her head so close to you her forehead nearly knocks into the side of yours. “Maybe you’ll find out she’s really some horrible person and you can swoop in and steal the blonde god that is Clay Beresford away from her.”

“Jill! Never gonna happen!” You playfully push your friend away and watch as she laughs brightly over the whole thing. You just stand there and shake your head, barely noticing the intrigued look on Clay’s face a few feet away from you.

As your friend recollects herself, you let her absurd words float through your mind. You sneak a glance over at the woman in question and find it hard to believe she could have any trace of evil inside of her. Her smile and eyes are too kind, and the literal glow around her as she talks with her husband is unmistakable. It’s clear she makes Clay happy and you’re sure a man as good as Clay Beresford would never fall for someone cruel.

“You never know,” Jill shrugs. She yawns and then continues. “I’m gone, but call me if anything happens! Good or bad, I want the details.”

“Promise! Have a good night, I’ll see you later.” Jill waves in return and as she walks past the small group she wishes Clay ‘good luck’, which he instantly thanks her for.

Even with her back turned you can tell the woman has a smile on her face. You don’t even wanna know the thoughts running through her head right now. The idea makes you chuckle.

Rejoining the group you take in the fact it’s dwindled since you stepped away. All that remains is Clay, Sam, and Dr. Harper.

“Y/N, perfect timing! Dr. Puttnam has gone with Penny to get the operating room ready for Clay. Why don’t you go on ahead with Sam while Clay and I speak with his mother. We hope the conversation won’t be long,” Dr. Harper says before glancing at Clay. “But either way we will meet up with you both and get started right away.”

“Sounds good to me,” you say before turning towards Clay and Sam. “Sam, right this way.”

The brunette smiles at you warmly and you mentally curse yourself for even jokingly thinking about the idea of stealing her new husband from her.

After all, she is just evidently a girl in love trying to live a long, happy life with her husband.

*****

To say the atmosphere has turned a little...chilly would be an understatement. After bringing Sam back to the waiting room, it wasn't long before Clay's mother joined you two. She greeted you kindly, asked a few questions, and thanked you for staying to support her son. But the minute Sam tried to insert herself into the conversation, tried to find some connection with Clay's mom, Lilith immediately shut her down. Lilith wasn't very receptive to anything Sam had to say, which made having any conversation with the both of them basically impossible, to put it lightly.

So now you find yourself practically trapped between these two women who clearly have some sort of history, anxiously watching the time tick by on the clock you've had your eyes glued to for some time now. Lilith's occupied herself with some playing cards she had in her purse and Sam twiddles aimlessly with her thumbs, no doubt feeling anxious not only about Clay but also due to the tension between herself and his mother.

"Miss, uh..." The deep baritone of the nurse's voice breaks you out of your thoughts and you immediately hone in on the chance he might be bringing news of Clay. "Ramos?"

Your shoulders slump down in rejection, feeling no closer to getting any answers than you did before the nurse walked in. You watch out of the corner of your eye as he goes and sits down in one of the waiting room chairs close to Sam. Your eyebrows furrow in confusion as you wonder what it is he could want from her.

"Hi, how you doin'?" He asks Sam and you can tell she's having non of it as she replies with a cool 'hey'. "Can I help you with something?"

Wow, he's persistent, you think.

You go to roll your eyes, picking up on the fact that clearly this guy is trying to hit on Sam. Which, if you think about it, is a little sick considering where you are currently. Obviously that doesn't deter some people.

"Haven't I seen you around?" You lift your head up and look over at the pair, finding it odd the nurse would even say that. You assume if he has seen her around, she'd be with Clay and this guy would know she's taken. You mentally brush it off, this is probably just part of his game to get Sam's number.

The need to maybe step in on Sam's behalf is abruptly pushed to the side as you see Sam hold up her hand, proudly showing off her engagement and wedding ring.

You can't help the tiny smirk that graces your lips as you watch the nurse sigh and slouch down in defeat. Sam shut that down real quick. The nurse mumbles an apology before rushing off back to his job.

"You have two rings on your finger." Your smirk disappears as you hear Lilith speak up from beside you. It's the first time she's spoken to Sam directly since you got to the waiting room. Something tells you this is not gonna be good.

"What was that?" Sam questions barely above a whisper. She's probably just as shocked as you this interaction is happening.

"Why are you wearing two rings, Sam?" The way Lilith questions it, you know she already knows the answer and she is not happy about it.

Holy shit, you think. She had no idea her own son got married.

Things just got a whole lot more interesting.

Sam stays silent and it doesn't take long for Lilith to question, "When?"

"Just before he got the call," Sam shrugs, looking timid. Clay's mom sighs and quickly looks away from her, finding the playing cards she's been shuffling way more interesting than whatever it is her apparent daughter-in-law has to say.

"Lilith," Sam pleads, but it's no use as Lilith refuses to look up.

Yikes. Maybe I should've sat on the other side, you think. You feel at any moment those playing cards could go flying and you really don't feel like being in the middle of that cat fight.

Clearing your throat in the least awkward way as possible, you get up and head for the vending machine a few feet in front of you. Maybe a little refreshment will do you some good. It is Halloween after all, you deserve a sweet treat.

As you pick which of the drinks it is you want, you remember the tidbit Sam tried to give Clay's mom earlier when she first walked into the waiting room. You hold down a bit longer on the button and feel satisfied as you watch your treat get released to you.

Bending down to grab your drink, you startle a little as a crash sounds from behind you. You turn your head and watch as Sam hurries to the floor, a bunch of orange pill bottles scattered around her. She must've dropped her purse.

"Oh, shit!" She exclaims, trying to catch some of the bottles before they roll away. You go to help her pick them up, but you stop as she begins to speak, clearly to Lilith. "Levatol, Enalapril, Digoxin. He likes me to carry them around. If I left it up to him he'd be popping 'em like M&Ms. He could OD on these things, you know?"

Sam finishes gathering all the bottles and goes back to the chair she was sitting in. "Can't say I'll miss them. A lot of cute purses I haven't been able to use over the last year."

"I didn't know you did that," Lilith says softly, looking down at the ground. It's obvious she's taking in the fact Sam cares deeply for Clay. Why else would she cart around all his medicines like that? You don't do that for someone you're not serious about. "That you carried his meds around."

It feels as if there's about to be some big turning point for the two women right now, so you stay hovering by the vending machine, not wanting to get in the way of whatever moment they're about to have. You only hope it turns out well and doesn't become a screaming match.

"I tried not to like him. I honestly did," Sam starts. "Lilith, I know how much he means to you."

"What do you want from me, Sam?" Lilith asks defensively. You barely know the woman and yet you can tell all of this is incredibly hard for her to fathom. Her son got married right under her nose and now he's in a life threatening surgery that she has no idea if he'll survive. You can't even imagine where her head must be at right now.

"I want you to tell him that he's as good as his father. I want you to tell him that it's okay to love me, and I want you to tell me that it's okay to love him back. He's already lost one parent, he can't lose another. He needs you. I'm not a bad person. I mean if you could just give us your blessing—"

There's a rawness and urgency in Sam's tone. At this point she has nothing left to lose. It's clear she's hanging on to every second Lilith is giving her, using every bit of that time to try and convince this powerful woman that she's deserving of her son. A part of you aches for her. To have a love you're willing to fight for is a rare thing, and you think anyone who's willing to sacrifice everything for the one they love deserves happiness.

"Okay, just stop talking." Lilith holds up her hand and that immediately causes Sam to halt her efforts. You prepare for the worst, but what Clay's mom does next shocks you. "Just make sure he takes his meds and...stop talking."

"What?" Sam asks, her eyes going slightly wide at Lilith's...acceptance?

"He has horrible allergies. Did you know that? Especially in the spring. Grass and flowers." You watch as Sam wastes no time in wrapping her arms around Lilith, bringing her in for a long awaited hug. The sight makes you smile. "Don't think this means I'm gonna be visiting every week."

Sam holds on a little longer and you can see Lilith start to stiffen a bit at the contact. She's not fully there yet, but you can tell this family is going to be okay. You may not know the whole story, but it's clear there's a lot of love involved. "Okay. Okay, let go. All right." Lilith chuckles a little and the two of them break apart, settling back into each of their respective seats.

You take this as your sign that it's all clear to take your seat again. You walk up and catch Sam's eye, you give her a warm smile and she gives you one in return. That glow she had around Clay earlier is back and you can tell this interaction she had with Lilith has lifted her spirits. That little envious feeling you had earlier too comes back, but you push it aside. Now is not the time.

As you sit down in between Sam and Lilith again, you open your drink and take a long sip. The cool liquid runs down your throat and you relish in the refreshing feeling. It feels like you've all been here for ages. You're starting to pick up on the feeling your friends and family must've had when you had your own heart transplant surgery. This waiting game is definitely not easy, and you'd give anything to get some answers.

Clay's wife must feel the same because not a second later she leans towards you and Lilith. "You know what? I'm gonna try and find out what's going on."

You both give Sam nods of encouragement, seeing it as the best bet. You thought about maybe trying to use your status as an employee as leverage to try and get some information, but the fact you're off the clock mixed with the fact you're not part of Clay's family had you second guessing doing that. Thankfully Sam's taking one for the team. "Sit tight, you two. I'll be right back."

The brunette walks off towards two doctors who have congregated in the hallway and you strain your ears to try and hear what they have to say, it's useless though, everyone talking in hushed tones.

There's a doctor in blue scrubs off to the right of Sam and you watch as he makes his way towards her. You've personally never seen him around before, but maybe he's new or he's been called in to help on a surgery. Whatever the case may be, you just hope he has some answers about Clay and his condition.

"You're not a doctor at this hospital!" You hear Sam bite out, and the comment leaves you confused. "I mean, you don't work here, do you?" She finishes in hushed tones, but it's just loud enough for you to hear, and by the looks of it so did Lilith. The two of you share a puzzling look, not understanding why Sam would say something like that. You chalk it up to the fact maybe Sam just hasn't seen this specific doctor before. You're sure she's decently familiar with Clay's team, so of course she'd have some questions if someone completely new is working on his surgery.

You give Lilith an assuring smile, trying to ease any worries she may have. She gives you one too, but you can tell it's not genuine. She goes back to holding her scarf close to her chest, no doubt what she's using to ground herself, and you mentally sigh. As with any patient's family, you want to give Lilith some sort of comfort to hold onto. A positive update. Good news on Clay's recovery. Anything at all. But alas, you're not able to offer anything and that alone breaks your heart.

Sam walks away from the doctor and you watch as she retreats down a hallway. You're not sure where she plans on going or how she plans on getting some answers, but maybe she knows something you don't. Clay is a high profile patient, to be fair. She could know a way to get access that you haven't heard of yet. Whatever it is Sam is doing, you just hope she's quick. You're not sure how much longer Lilith will be able to hold out without any information.

*****

It seems like hours before Sam makes her way back to the waiting room. In reality it was probably only ten to fifteen minutes, but every minute feels like an hour when it comes to something like this.

As the newest Mrs. Beresford walks towards you and Lilith, you watch as Clay's mother immediately springs to her feet.

"Is he okay? Is everything okay?"

"They wouldn't say," Sam offers. All that time gone and she has nothing to report? There's a nagging feeling in the back of your mind that says none of this is right, things aren't adding up, but you let it go the minute you catch a glimpse of Lilith's face; a mix of both relief at no bad news, but also nerves from no good news either.

"You were gone so long. I started—" Lilith rolls her head back, her shoulders slumping.

"I know, I know. I'm scared too," Sam sympathizes.

The brunette rubs the arms of the older woman before leading her back to her chair. She smiles and nods at you, and you try your best not to make anything of her shifty gaze. It feels almost as if she doesn't want you too close, seeing past anything she's giving Lilith.

It must be paranoia, nothing solid has happened to make it seem like something is going on. Sam is a nice girl, she probably can just tell you have the hots for her husband, and as the clock ticks closer and closer to his surgery finishing, you're sure she's just becoming a little uncomfortable sharing such a personal time with you.

You technically are just a random doctor she met today who had a heartfelt conversation with her significant other and is now sitting with her and her mother-in-law during his life altering surgery. When you put it into perspective, the untrustworthy atmosphere seems to make a bit more sense.

Shaking it off, you readjust yourself in your chair. With no news at all, who knows how much longer it's going to be. Might as well get comfortable.

*****

"Something's wrong." Lilith's voice breaks you out of the trance you've found yourself in. For who knows how long now you've been trying to ground yourself. You're not sure why you're feeling so affected. Maybe it's because you do have a soft spot for Clay. Maybe it's the realization of how scary it is to care for someone going through a heart transplant. Maybe it's a coping mechanism to try and tune out the fact the three of you haven't spoken since Sam came back, anxiety striking you all silent. "I can feel that something's wrong."

"What Is it?" You ask Lilith, noticing her stricken expression the moment you look towards her.

"I can't just sit here like this. They should have told us something by now."

Sam straightens in her seat beside you, no doubt gearing up to try and calm Clay's mom. "Listen to me."

"No, you don't understand. He's not just my son. I was a kid when I had him."

"He's gonna be fine," Sam assures, shifting her gaze between Lilith and you, nodding her head. Your nervousness is probably written all over your face.

"We've grown up together. It's me and him," Lilith continues.

Sam has a contemplative look on her face, and you find yourself having deja vu. You take this as your opportunity to offer Lilith some comfort and advice, much like you did with Clay earlier today. Although, that seems so long ago now.

"He's not gonna die. Not now, not today," you say as you turn your body towards her. Confidence—or something—must overtake you because you find yourself reaching for her hand, feeling the slight shake in them. A mother's worries.

"How can you be so sure?" She whispers, not pulling away from your light grip.

With all the sincerity you can muster you whisper to her, "Because he's got too much to live for."

You can see the shimmer of tears brimming Lilith's eyes as she takes in your words. In an instant, you feel her squeeze your hand, no doubt trying to thank you for your words without having to actually say so, her voice unreliable at this point with the amount of emotion lodged in her throat.

You simply nod your head, letting her know you understand completely. What you said isn't bullshit, it's genuinely how you feel. It's clear as day that Clay is surrounded by two women who love him very much. There's no doubt in your mind that he laid down on that operating table today with every intention of waking up and going back to them.

The thought squeezes your own heart that you fought so hard for. To love is to be loved, and you're happy that Clay has a good support system around him to guide him through what is no doubt going to be hell for a little while. You remember your own restless days and recovery process. Lilith and Sam may not know exactly what Clay is gonna go through, but you're sure they'll do all they can to help him.

*****

You're the first to notice Dr. Harper walking towards you along with the doctor Sam was talking to earlier. You lightly tap both Lilith and Sam with each of your hands to grab their attention. This is it.

"So?" Lilith questions after getting to her feet. Harper immediately shakes his head and your stomach drops.

"He rejected the heart." Four words. Four words is all it takes to completely throw you off balance. "We did everything we could, but the organ failed, and I am so sorry."

No, there's no way.

You feel Sam fall to her seat beside you and you wonder how it must feel for her. She married the love of her life not even a day ago and in just a few hours she lost him. You can't imagine a worse heartbreak.

"The organ failed?" Lilith questions, disbelief evident in her voice.

"Yes, it wouldn't respond to the procedure. But in cases like this, it's not uncommon for—"

"Don't you mean you failed?" Lilith cuts him off, and you can tell at any minute she might lose it. You can't blame her, you'd do the same in her position. You're positive Dr. Harper did all he can to save Clay, but this was a risk you were all well aware of. You just never thought it'd actually happen.

"No, we...we did everything that we could. It's just an imperfect procedure." Harper shakes his head and you can tell by the look on his face that this has broken him just as much as the rest of you. You don't know him or Clay that well, but it's clear they had a genuine friendship. He will never recover from this.

"Say it," Lilith bites out.

"Say what?"

"I wanna hear you say it. I wanna hear you say you failed my son." Dr. Harper stands there in shock as Lilith walks away from him and sits on the opposite side of the aisle of chairs. "It shouldn't have been you. It should never have been you. I fucking knew it."

"I'm sorry, Sam." Harper whispers before slightly turning and barely meeting your eyes. "Y/N."

He leaves the room and all that's left is you, Sam, Lilith, and the doctor Sam was talking to earlier. You find yourselves in utter silence. No other sounds can be heard besides the distant noises of other lives being saved and others being unfortunately lost. You think about how many more families will be devastated tonight just like the Beresfords. The thought pains you.

"I'm afraid we're gonna need your permission to take him off bypass." The doctor's words cause you to glance up at him. He stands tentatively at Mrs. Beresford's side.

"What?" She asks, looking over at him with tears streaming down her face.

"We'll need your permission," He says again, taking a seat next to her. "I'm so sorry to have to ask."

"I don't understand," Lilith shakes her head. "He's alive."

"Yes, but his blood's being pumped by a machine. He has no heart."

You squeeze your eyes shut, hating the image that's planted itself in your mind. You've seen countless people be put on bypass, it's your job, but it makes you feel sick to think about Clay being in that position with no way out. His chest open on that table with no heart inside to make him better again. You hate it. He deserved better.

"Then get him another heart," Clay's mother demands, not understanding the full severity of the situation. There is no other heart. You've heard enough about Clay and his case to know this one was a miracle as it is. To get another heart on such short notice, whilst also not having Clay on bypass for too long a time, is impossible.

"You don't understand. His blood type's too rare. We don't have one. I'm sorry. It's over." The doctor explains softly. Lilith merely thanks him before standing up and making her way to the corner of the waiting room, scarf still clutched in her hands.

"I'll be in the hallway," the doctor says before walking away form you all.

"Lilith," Sam says as she gets up from her seat.

"Could you leave me alone for a minute?" Lilith stops her in her tracks, not wanting Sam's comfort right now.

"Okay," she complies before walking away, going who knows where.

For a moment it's just you and Clay's mom. Nothing is said between the two of you, but just by looking at her you can tell she's struggling to keep it together.

You stand, taking a small step closer to the woman before softy calling out her name. "Lilith."

Suddenly, her eyes narrow slightly, a look of determination overtaking her grief-stricken features. "I'm going to the cafeteria. I need a moment alone."

She doesn't even await your answer as she swiftly makes her way around the chairs and towards the hallway, but not before snatching Sam's purse out of one of the chairs. You don't even question it at this point, you'd do just about anything else before standing in the way of a grieving mother.

*****

Time passes, and that nagging feeling you had earlier that something is severely wrong comes crawling back. Lilith still isn't back from the cafeteria yet, and you haven't seen Sam since Lilith asked her to leave.

You do the only thing that feels right. You go after Lilith. She's Clay's mother. If something is going on, she'd be the only one you could trust to tell you the truth. You need to talk to her, see if she feels the same way. You don't understand how this all could've gone south so fast.

Quickly making your way to the cafeteria, you looking around at all the tables and chairs, trying to find Lilith as quickly as possible. When you do finally spot her, what you see has your breath catching in your throat.

"Lilith!" You cry, rushing over to her secluded table. When you reach her, she's just finished shoving multiple pills in her mouth. You recognize the bottles as the same ones that fell out of Sam's purse earlier. Lilith has taken Clay's medication. She's trying to OD. "What have you done!? I need to get help."

Before you're able to rush off and call someone over to help you, Lilith has her hand wrapped around your arm, stopping you in your tracks. "No! Please, don't."

"Why are you doing this? What's going on? I came to find you because I think something's wrong with what happened to Clay but-but-" You feel tears start to brim your eyes. Even though you hardly know the woman before you, you can't imagine her taking her own life. The pain she must be feeling is insurmountable, but she can't do this. She can't.

"Let me explain, please. I don't have much time." Lilith urges you to sit down and you do so immediately. The quicker she gets out whatever she needs to say, the quicker you can go for help and save her life. There's no way you're losing both Beresfords tonight.

"What is it?" You urge, leaning towards her in your seat, the anticipation and stress eating you up.

"I had a feeling something was going on, I knew it from the beginning, but I kept telling myself I was just paranoid. My suspicions were confirmed though when I found this." Lilith pauses to reach into Sam's purse, pulling out a small stack of envelopes and handing them to you.

"What is this?" You look down at the letters Lilith has given you and your eyebrows furrow in confusion when you notice Sam's name on them. Except, on each letter, she has one of two different last names. On some of her letters her name is Samantha Lockwood, but on others, specifically one from Varick University (a nursing school), it says her name is Samantha Tunnell. You feel like you're gonna throw up, quickly catching on to where this might be going.

"She's not who she says she is. It only took me a second to put it together after that. She's been to this hospital before. Think about it; the vending machine she somehow knew how to work? The nurse asking if he'd seen her before? Her saying one of Clay's doctors didn't work at this hospital? How would she know any of that stuff? I don't know the exact specifics, but they're all in on it, all of them! They tried to kill my son, they are killing him unless I do something about it."

"Lilith, I'm sorry there's nothing we can do. There's no other heart for Clay. His blood type—"

"Is the same as mine."

Lilith's sentence sends your mind reeling. Suddenly, the picture becomes clear.

She's going to give him her heart.

"Lilith, if what you're saying is true—"

"It is, and I need you to let me do it. I've already called Dr. Neyer, he's on his way to perform the transplant, I don't trust anyone else. It's happening and it's happening fast so please, listen to me. I need you to do me a favor, Y/N."

You're stunned silent. There are no words to describe what's happening right now. It was just supposed to be a heart transplant. The anticipation of waiting for Clay to make it out on the other side was supposed to be the most nerve-racking event of the day, but suddenly his murder plot is.

Trusted medical staff. His best friend. His wife. All in on it. Your stomach churns and your heart races, but as you stare at Lilith, you realize just how serious she is. How dead set she is on changing the story these horrible people have written.

Gone is the poised woman who was married to a business tycoon. What remains is merely a mother doing everything she can to save her only child. You'd find it admirable if you weren't already feeling so frightened and worried about it all.

What she's set in motion cannot be undone, and as she stares at you eagerly, hoping you'll agree, you can't help but to take a leap of faith and do just that. "What can I do to help you?"

"Hold onto those letters like your life depends on it. Give them to the police directly the minute they get here. She cannot and will not get away with this. None of them will. But most importantly, what I need you to do is look after my son."

Lilith reaches out and grasps your hands in hers, much like you did earlier when you were assuring her Clay would not die today. Unlike earlier, though, her hands are no longer trembling. She is the most stoic you've seen her all day, and her determination is slowly but surely rubbing off on you.

"Lilith, I—" You can't find the right words to reply to her with. Obviously turning in evidence to the police is a no brainer, but looking after Clay? A man you met not even 24 hours ago. Your heart knows it's right, but your head is trying to reason otherwise.

"It's okay, I know it's a big ask, but please Y/N. Clay will have no one else on his side after tonight. I know you just met me, just met him, but for some reason I trust you wholly. I can tell your heart is pure. You stayed by Clay's side just for the mere fact you wanted to be there for him. You know personally what he's gonna go through after he wakes up from that surgery. I have no one else to turn to, no one else to ask. I know it's not fair of me, but I need you. He needs you."

Your heart swells. Emotions run wild through your mind, only one thought clear amongst the chaos. You have to do this, you have to do what she's asking. You want to. God knows no one else will get it all like you do. No one else will understand Clay and be there for him to answer any questions he may have. You truly will be all he's got.

With tears slipping down your cheeks, you nod your head. "Yes, absolutely. I'll do it, Lilith. I promise I won't let you down, I won't let Clay down."

"Good," she smiles, her eyes starting to droop closed. No doubt the concoction of pills she downed working their way through her bloodstream. Any minute now her body will shut down. Her heart will stop beating. She'll never wake up again. "Now hurry. Go find Neyers. He should be here any minute if he's not already. Bring him here and make sure he gets started right away. Clay doesn't have much time."

Noting your head, you stand up from the table, removing one of your hands from Lilith's grasp to wipe away your endless tears. Before you can take back your other hand, Clay's mother squeezes it tightly, causing you to look directly at her.

"Thank you," she whispers, her body slumping back in her chair, her head beginning to lean on the wall to her right. "Clay deserves someone like you."

You smile weakly at the woman, your heart squeezing for more reasons than one. "Goodbye, Lilith."

The older woman lets go of your hand and uses it to prop her head up. To anyone walking by she just looks like a tired loved one, looking to pass the time in the hospital cafeteria. But you know what's really going on. You watch as her breathing slows, her chest rising and falling less and less as the seconds tick by. It'll be any second now, but you can't bear to witness her final moment. Instead, you do as she asked and haul ass to the hospital entrance, looking for the man who's going to save the life of the Beresford heir.

*****

Knowing Clay was going under the knife a second time was no easier than the first time. Dr. Neyer is an incredibly capable doctor, but considering the events of today, you could say you're still a bit uneasy.

There was no way you were going back to that waiting room from earlier, you'd rather walk around aimlessly for hours instead of reliving those moments again and again in your mind. You're beating yourself up over the fact you didn't truly notice anything was off earlier. If you just would've trusted your gut feeling a little more or asked a few more questions, maybe things could've been different.

You shake those thoughts away, though, knowing there's nothing to be done now. What's done is done and all you can do is hope and wait for Clay to get out of that surgery safe and sound.

After meeting up with Neyer and the police, you discovered they already caught Puttnam and Penny. They're still looking for Harper and Sam, but you're sure they'll catch them soon. They're in this hospital somewhere and there's no way they're coming out of it without wearing handcuffs. There's officers at every exit, so it's just a matter of time.

Your sadness and confusion has morphed into anger now. You feel betrayed for Clay and his family, and you feel betrayed for yourself for the fact these doctors you trusted turned out to be nothing but heartless, greedy monsters. These people who you looked up to, who you wanted to be like, are nothing but frauds.

Heat starts to travel up your neck, and the feeling only intensifies when a loud noise ahead of you catches your attention and you spot a familiar brunette trying to open a locked door.

"Hey, Mrs. Beresford," you call out, Sam's head instantly snapping in your direction. "Or should I call you Ms. Lockwood? Or Ms. Tunnell? Or I know! How about just Sam? Considering that seems to be the only name that stays consistent through all your different identities."

Samantha smirks as she stalks towards you, a look of smugness all over her face. It's hilarious how she clearly thinks she's won. If only she knew how far from the truth that is.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," she sighs. "All I'm doing is looking for some answers on my husband's death. I'm just the grieving widow, remember?"

Your blood boils at her comments. How dare she feign innocence when she's probably the one who killed Clay. Your mind goes back to when she was gone from the waiting room for so long, looking for updates on Clay's surgery. She was probably meeting up with all of them, planning on what they were gonna do next. It takes everything in you not to lunge for the woman before you.

"Cut the shit, Sam! I know what you did, and so do the police. Nice work on carrying around your mail with you. Couldn't even cover up your tracks properly. You'll never get away with this no matter how hard you try or how many fake tears you cry."

Sam's smirk falters. She knows she's caught. You can see the realization flash in her eyes. Her mistakes, her missteps, her failures.

"Oh, please," she scoffs, trying to gain back the upper hand. "And who are you, exactly? Nothing but a wannabe surgeon with a little crush on someone else's husband. Real nice."

"Yeah? At least I'm not a killer. And unlike you, I am a surgeon, which is more than you'll ever be while you're locked up behind bars." Crossing your arms over your chest, you tilt your head to the side and call over your shoulder, "She's over here, officers!"

Sam's eyes widen, quickly realizing you had her right where you wanted her. You saw the police officers coming up the hallway off to your right, you just had to buy them some time so they could catch up to you and arrest Sam once and for all.

Now it's your turn to have the smug look on your face as the officers rush past you and get Sam down on the ground. She never even had a chance to try and outrun them.

Walking over to the woman on the ground, you squat down to try and be more in her line of vision. You really wanna make sure she understands the words you're about to utter.

"Oh and, Sam?" You start, practically batting your eyelashes at her as she glares at you. "It's ex-husband now. And trust me, I'll take real good care of him for you."

The woman practically screams as you stand back up and turn on your heel towards the recovery rooms. Clay will be out of surgery soon and you wanna make sure you're there for him when he wakes up.

As you turn the corner, you spare a quick glance back down the way you came. Although you wish everything that happened today never occurred, it gives you great satisfaction to see the officers yank Sam up off the ground and practically drag her towards the exit.

Good, you think. She'll get what she deserves.

*****

After several more hours, you've found yourself sat in a recovery room. Finally.

Not long after the police apprehended Sam, they found Harper and arrested him. He was just sat in his office, evidence laid out on his desk. He was ready for them. If you had to guess, he's probably the only one out of that group who genuinely feels remorse for what they did. You find it hard to sympathize with him at this current moment, though.

Dr. Neyers informed you the surgery went well. They lost Clay right at the end but thankfully were able to bring him back one final time. He lays in front of you now on a hospital bed, the beeping of his heart monitor and his soft breathing the only sounds filling the room.

It's been a few hours since they brought Clay here, and you used that time to catch up on some much needed sleep after being up for nearly twenty-four hours. It was a quick nap, but you feel much better.

You're still trying to process everything that happened. Even with Clay laying here in front of you like this, you and him being the only ones in the room, it still doesn't feel real. Part of you thinks that maybe you'll wake up at any moment and it'll all have been a dream. Another part of you worries that it's all too real, and that there's a chance Clay might not wake up.

Dr. Neyers stopped in a few minutes ago and told you that Clay should be waking up any minute now. He might be a bit groggy but he would be awake nonetheless.

You’ve practically jumped out of your seat every other second since then each time you thought you saw movement. So far still nothing, but you’re hopeful it’ll be soon. You need it to be. You promised Clay’s mom you’d look after him, and you don’t plan on breaking that promise anytime soon.

Sighing, you get up from your spot in the chair next to Clay’s bed and instead take a seat to the left of him, your hip brushing his blanket covered thigh as you try not to fall off the side.

He looks peaceful as he lays there sleeping. So innocent from all the horrors that went on while he was in surgery. You dread the moment you’ll have to fill him in on all that happened. When you’ll have to tell him his mom—the woman he loves so dearly—is dead.

Emotion floods you and you try not to let it take you over. Instead you reach forward and grab Clay’s right hand in yours. His skin is warm and soft under your touch and you find comfort in it. You hope that when he does wake up, he’ll find comfort in yours too.

Rubbing your thumb back and forth over Clay’s knuckles, you look over at the EKG machine he’s hooked up to. His heart rate is steady, strong. You’re glad he made it out of the surgery, it’s rare people make it out of one transplant, yet alone two on the same day. Clay’s strong, you know he’ll get through this. He has to. His mom died to save his life and you don’t know a worse tragedy than one where neither one of them makes it out of this. The thought alone—

Your head snaps forward instantly. You wait a second and when it happens again you know you’re not just imagining it.

Clay’s hand squeezed yours. Twice!

Leaning forward, you watch as Clay’s eyes shift back and forth under his eyelids before finally, finally, they open. Immediately you’re met with two pale blue eyes.

He’s awake.

“Clay,” you whisper, not wanting to startle him. His eyes quickly find yours and you smile as you feel him squeeze your hand again. “Hey there. You’re okay, it’s all gonna be okay.”

Clay tilts his head to the side and you watch as he feebly attempts to sit up, no doubt trying to get some water. He winces and gives up immediately. You know that pain all too well.

“I got it, it’s okay. Don’t move.” Reaching over, you grab the small cup of water you poured a bit earlier incase Clay wanted it when he woke up. You hold the straw for him and bring it forward, allowing him to take a few sips. He tilts his head back when he’s done and you place the cup back on his bedside table.

“Thank you,” he croaks out, his voice raspier than normal. Even though you figured that would be the case, the deeper sound still takes you by surprise. You try not to take enjoyment in the sound, all things considered.

The blonde clears his throat and reality hits you as you realize you’ll now have to do the thing you’ve been dreading; telling Clay everything. You’re not sure where to begin, but you figure the beginning is probably the best place to start.

“Clay,” you say, uneasiness already settling in your voice. “I have to tell you something.”

A beat passes and as you go to continue, Clay beats you to it. “My mother is dead.”

Your eyes widen at his words. “How-How do you know that?”

He closes his eyes and takes a breath before saying, “I know everything. About Jack, Puttnam, and Penny. About-About Sam.” Pain crosses Clay’s features, but you’d bet anything that this time it isn’t physical. “When I was under, I wasn’t actually asleep. I don’t know how to describe it other than saying it was an out of body experience. I saw everything, heard everything, felt everything.”

“Oh, Clay,” you sigh, your heart breaking at his words. Immediately you know what he’s referring to. Intraoperative awareness is rare, and to think Clay was experiencing it during one of the worst possible surgeries and during one of the worst possible times absolutely blows your mind. What did he ever do to deserve this?

“What do you remember last?” You ask him. You don’t want to push Clay, but you need to know if there’s any gaps you need to fill in for him. Does he know he’s safe? Does he know everyone who tried to hurt him last night is never going to get near him again?

“The last thing I remember is talking to my mother,” he says it almost as a whisper and the sound nearly brings tears to your eyes. “She told me what she did, what she asked you to do. I get why she did it, but God, I just—“

Clay cuts himself off, tears beginning to fall from his eyes and down his pale cheeks. The sight tears you in two and causes tears of your own to fall.

“I’m so sorry, Clay.” Your voice cracks, the ability to hide any emotion completely disappearing. You reach out and brush away some of Clay’s tears with your thumb. The man practically melts into your touch and you find yourself wanting nothing more than to just wrap him in your arms and tell him it’s all gonna be okay.

“Did the cops catch them all, at least?” There’s resentment in his tone that you don’t blame him for at all. You can’t even begin to imagine the betrayal he must feel right now.

“Every single one of them. They’re all on their way to the station right now if they’re not already there. The evidence is solid, they’re never gonna see the light of day again and if they do it’ll be when they’re old and gray. You’re safe, Clay. I promise you that.”

The businessman nods his head and you can see him relax a little bit more. Silence settles over the two of you again, but it’s comfortable. Clay has also retaken ahold of your hand and this time he’s the one rubbing his thumb over your knuckles.

Even though he’s the one that’s been through hell, he’s trying to comfort you. The thought makes you chuckle lightly and Clay smiles at the sound.

“Before all the doctors and cops realize I’m awake and start flooding in, I just wanted to say thank you and I’m sorry.” The blue-eyed man looks at you sincerely and you find yourself trying to hold back a frown.

“Clay, you don’t have to thank me for anything, and you have nothing to be sorry for. You had no control over what happened to you, over what these people did to you and your family.”

“I know, but you also didn’t have to get wrapped up in it. I should never have asked you to stay earlier. You were going home and I should’ve respected that and let you go. And my mother asking you to look after me? It’s too much, you don’t deserve—“

“Clay Beresford, stop it right now. Don’t you dare feel guilty about anything. No one forced me to stay here and no one forced me to accept what your mother was asking of me. I did it all on my own. The first time we spoke I told you that no matter what I’d be here for you, in whatever way you may need me, and I meant that. No matter what happened or no matter what will happen, I’m here for you and I don’t want you to ever feel like that’s a burden on me. That you’re a burden on me. We met for a reason and even though what’s happened after that is horrible, I will never take that for granted. I care about you, Clay, and I don’t think I’ll ever be able to stop.”

Clay just lays there and smiles up at you, reveling in the passionate look on your face and in your eyes. He saw it yesterday when you guys met and talked about his fears and thoughts on the surgery. He admires your ability to speak your mind and stand up for what you believe in and how you feel. People like you are rare to him, and he feels incredibly lucky to have found you.

“You don’t know how badly I wish I could hug you right now.” The two of you burst into laughter but Clay’s laughs are suddenly cut short when he groans at the ache in his chest. “Ugh, I’m definitely not gonna get used to that.”

You try to tame your laughter, not wanting to trigger Clay to start laughing and hurt himself again. “Trust me when I say it’ll get better…eventually.”

Clay smirks before sighing, his eyes finding yours. “Seriously, though. Thank you for everything. I can’t imagine not having you by my side right now or what would’ve happened if I didn’t have that conversation with you yesterday. I hope you know how much I appreciate you, no matter how little time we’ve known each other.”

Heat rises up your neck and into your cheeks at his kind words. To think this is where you’ve found yourself when you didn’t even personally know this man twenty-four hours ago. It’s funny how life works sometimes. “You’re welcome, Clay. I appreciate you too.”

As if on cue, there’s a knock on the door and not a second later Dr. Neyers walks in, clipboard in hand. “Good morning, Clayton. We have a lot to discuss.”

Clay nods his head and the two of you share a look. Clay would never say it, but you know he thinks it’s best if he handles this part on his own. He and Neyers have a lot to go over and you’re sure the officers that were walking around the hall earlier will be in to speak with him soon as well. You’ll be here when he needs you, though. You always will.

“I’m gonna go grab something from the cafeteria. I’ll be back, but call me if you need me.” Clay nods his head and you quickly grab his cellphone from the table before placing it next to his hand. That way he won’t have to try and reach for it if he does need you before you get back.

Dr. Neyers gives you a small smile before you walk out of the room and close the door behind you. The click of the door handle fills the silence of the empty hallway and you find yourself grateful for it. You were worried your coworkers would be standing around waiting for any and all updates on Clay, and more specifically you and Clay.

When you were making your way to Clay’s room after the surgery, you caught a few of the nurses and other residents whispering to each other in the hall, no doubt trying to figure out why you’re suddenly involved in Clay’s case. You definitely can’t wait to see what the story is when you come back to work tomorrow. This hospital sure is gossipy.

The walk to the cafeteria is peaceful, though, and that’s only broken when your phone starts buzzing in your bag. You reach in and grab it and nearly laugh out loud at the message on your screen.

Jill:

Umm why did I just overhear people talking about you being here all night with Clay!? What happened, is he okay??? And why are there cops all over the place??? Fill me in on everything!!!

Oh, God, you think. Where do I even begin?

#hayden christensen #hayden christensen x reader #hayden christensen x you #hayden christensen x female reader #hayden christensen x y/n #hayden christensen fanfiction #hayden christensen imagines #clay beresford #clay beresford x reader #clay beresford x you #clay beresford x y/n #clay beresford imagines #clay beresford fanfiction #requested

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lacydollette · 2 months ago

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CRYSTAL LAKE ⸻ clay miller

warnings clay miller x fem!reader, reader replaces the character “Jenna”, stangers to lovers, love at first sight (kinda?), mentions of death, blood, kissing, slight gore, heavily inspired by the original storyline of the movie, wc: 5.4k

notes since I’ve rewatched I couldn’t stop thinking about him. God, pls gimme a big boy like clay.. excuse the length, i literally did the whole plot of the movie lmao 😭

It was late afternoon as you and your friends pulled into a gas station on the edge of Crystal Lake, the excitement for the weekend buzzing in the car. You were heading to Trent’s family lake house, a place he always bragged about for its secluded beauty, though you were really only going along because of your friend, Bree.

As Trent’s constant flirty remarks were more irritating than flattering, mostly it was you brushing them off and rolling your eyes whenever he tried to catch your attention.

While Bree and Trent went into the gas station to grab some snacks, you stretched your legs and wandered over to a nearby notice board filled with missing persons’ flyers. One in particular caught your eye—“Whitney Miller, Missing” was plastered in bold letters over a picture of a woman. Your gaze lingered on it, a strange feeling settling in your chest, she was so young.

As you turned away, you nearly bumped into a guy who looked around your age, wearing a worn leather jacket and carrying a stack of similar missing person flyers. He had the same warm energy radiating off him as the girl in the photo.

“Oh, sorry!” You stammered, stepping back.

“No worries,” he replied, his voice calm but tired, glancing at the poster you’d been looking at. “That’s my sister. Whitney.”

The heaviness in his voice made you pause. “I’m really sorry. How long has she been missing?”

“Six weeks,” Clay replied, trying not to let the emotion crack his voice. “The cops stopped looking. Said she probably just ran off. But I know her. She wouldn’t just leave like that.”

There was a spark of determination in his eyes that struck you. “If you think there’s something more to it, you’re probably right.”

He nodded gratefully. “I’m Clay, by the way.”

“Y/N.” You smiled softly. “I hope you find her.”

Just then, Trent and Bree emerged from the gas station. Trent noticed you talking to Clay and immediately shot him a distrustful look, stepping between you.

“Y/n, come on, we gotta go,” Trent said, casting Clay a dismissive glance.

He didn’t seem phased though, only offering you a polite nod before heading into the gas station himself.

You all loaded back into Trent’s SUV and made your way to the lake house, the mood in the car lighthearted. But you couldn’t shake the thought of Clay and his missing sister, something about his story sticking with you.

The lake house was a massive cabin nestled among towering trees, with the lake just visible beyond the dense brush. The rest of the group settled in quickly, and Trent started showing off the place, clearly trying to impress you, though you were hardly listening. Bree caught your eye and smirked, mouthing, “He’s so into you.” But you just rolled your eyes in response.

The afternoon melted into evening, with the group grilling food and hanging out by the lake. But while everyone else was laughing and relaxing, you found your thoughts drifting to the strange guy you’d met at the gas station.

Just then a knock startled you out of your thoughts, opening the door just to find Clay standing there, holding a stack of missing-person flyers. The look of surprise on his face mirrored yours, though his was tinged with relief. You glanced back over your shoulder and quickly stepped out, letting the door close behind you to shield him from the others.

“Hey, uh, Clay,” you said, still a little taken aback. “You… you made it out here.”

“Yeah, I figured I’d try one more time,” he replied, offering a tentative smile. He held up the flyers. “I’m still looking for my sister.”

Your expression softened as you glanced at the paper in his hand, Whitney’s face staring back at you.

“You two have the same eyes.” You smiled softly, trying to comfort him as much as you could, knowing how exhausting it must be for him to still be searching, still not giving up hope.

“Thanks.” he muttered, feeling the ache in his chest deepen. You were trying to comfort him, and it wasn't much, but it was enough to make him feel a little less alone.

“You should come in,” you said. “At least warm up and grab a drink.”

Clay hesitated, but the invitation was genuine, so he nodded. As you led him inside, Trent looked up from the kitchen, his smile dropping the second he saw who it was.

“What’s he doing here?” Trent asked, folding his arms and eyeing Clay suspiciously.

“Trent, chill,” you said, rolling your eyes. “He’s just handing out flyers for his missing sister.”

“Yeah, and he’s been here all week. Just give it a rest already, man.” Trent’s eyes narrowed, his annoyance almost palpable.

Clay clenched his jaw but kept his voice steady. “I’m just trying to find my sister. And I don’t need some big town jerk telling me what to do.”

You could sense the tension building between them, and before it could escalate further, you stepped in. “Alright, enough. Trent, could you just give us a second?” You took Clay’s arm, gently steering him toward the door.

Trent huffed and threw his hands up, muttering something under his breath. Ignoring him, you led Clay outside, feeling the tension dissipate as soon as you stepped away from the house.

“Sorry about that,” you sighed, shaking your head. “Trent’s… well, a little possessive.”

Clay chuckled, though it was laced with frustration. “I get it. He’s not exactly subtle.”

You shared a small, knowing smile, both of you a little thrown by the strangeness of it all, yet there was something about Clay that put you at ease. And after the way Trent had acted, you felt more determined than ever to help him, if only to spite your obnoxious “friend”.

“Listen,” you said, turning to him, your expression softening. “I’ll help you look for her. I could use a break from Trent anyway.”

Clay blinked, a little taken aback by your offer, his face lighting up with gratitude. “You… you don’t have to do that.”

“No, I want to,” you replied, voice firm. “I could use some air, and it’s the least I can do after the way he acted.“

Clay nodded, clearly thankful for the company, and together you two headed into the woods, following the worn paths and looking for any sign of Whitney.

You dared to ask some questions as you walked, finding out more about the kind of person Whitney was—her interests, her plans for the future, her stubbornness that matched Clay’s in many ways. Clay found himself talking more freely than he had in days, feeling the weight of the world lift just a little.

“She sounds like an incredible person,” you said with a smile. “And you’re an incredible brother for going through all this just to find her.”

Clay shrugged, but you could see a hint of pride in his eyes. “She’s all I have. My mom isn’t around anymore, and I don’t really have anyone else. I can’t just… stop.”

The sun was dipping low, casting long shadows that made the woods feel both beautiful and haunting. You found yourself sneaking glances at Clay, noticing his quiet strength and determination, admiring how he didn’t seem fazed by Trent’s earlier hostility or the weight of his own desperation.

“So… you’re not really into Trent, huh?” Clay asked, a hint of teasing in his tone as he looked over at you, his gaze steady.

You laughed, shaking your head. “Not even close. I mean, he’s… okay, I guess. But he can also be a huge dick.”

“I can see that,” Clay said, grinning as he relaxed a little, clearly happy that you didn’t buy into Trent’s charm.

Clay was guarded, you could tell, but there was a spark in his eyes whenever you exchanged those small, quiet smiles.

After an hour or so of walking, you came across an abandoned campsite littered with empty beer cans and shredded tents. You wrinkled your nose at the sight, feeling a chill creep up your spine.

“This… this place gives me the creeps,” you murmured.

Clay’s expression grew serious, his eyes scanning the area. “This is around where the last person claimed to see her. The police looked here, but they didn’t find anything.”

“Well,” you said, breaking the tension with a small laugh, “if there’s one thing I’ve learned from all the horror movies I’ve watched, it’s that creepy campsites are never a good sign.”

Clay chuckled, though he kept his eyes on the surrounding woods, his laughter fading into a quiet alertness. “Good thing I’ve got someone with horror movie knowledge by my side.”

You quickly moved on, picking your way through the dense trees, occasionally stopping to examine broken branches or overturned rocks. It felt strangely comforting to you, being out there with him, feeling like you had a common goal and something real connecting you, even if it was born out of tragedy.

But as the evening shadows deepened, a sense of unease grew between you. Yoy glanced up, realizing you’d wandered far from the main path.

“Let’s just check out the last cabin and then we’re out of here.” Clay said, voice low.

You nodded your head. “Yeah, good idea.“

You and Clay pushed open the creaky door of the last cabin, your flashlights illuminating the dilapidated interior. The place was more unsettling than any of the others you’d checked. Everything looked like it had been frozen in time decades ago, only to rot and gather dust. Old toys littered the floor, porcelain dolls with cracked faces staring at you from dusty shelves, the air thick and suffocating.

“Who would even stay here?” You whispered, feeling a shiver crawl up your spine.

As you stepped further inside, you felt the wooden floor creak ominously under your weight. You barely had time to gasp before the rotted wood gave way beneath you, and you started to fall, your flashlight slipping from your grasp as you felt yourself plunging into the darkness.

“Y/N!” Clay’s voice was panicked but steady. In an instant, his arms were around you, his grip tight on your waist as he hauled you back up, his strength catching you just before you could hit the ground.

For a moment, everything was still as you clung to him, heart pounding. Your faces were only inches apart, your hands gripping his muscular shoulders as he held you close. You felt the warmth of his breath, saw the tension in his eyes softening into something like longing. His gaze flicked to your lips, and you felt yourself drawn in, the fear and unease momentarily giving way to a connection you didn’t expect.

But just as your lips were about to meet, a strange, metallic scraping noise echoed from outside the cabin. The tension snapped, replaced by a sudden and intense need to get out.

You two shared a look of alarm, all thoughts of your moment forgotten as you turned toward the door, Clay taking your hand and leading you quietly but quickly outside.

That’s when Clay’s flashlight began to flicker, making him curse underneath his breath.

“Let me change the battery real quick.” Clay whispered urgently, tugging you toward the edge of the camp, before kneeling down.

Clay fumbled with his flashlight, frustrated as he tried to swap out the dead batteries. You kept glancing nervously over your shoulder, your nerves on edge after everything you’d seen at the cabin. Just as Clay finally clicked the batteries into place, a rustling sound echoed through the trees, followed by the slow, heavy crunch of footsteps.

Your breath caught, and without thinking, you grabbed Clay’s arm, pulling him behind a massive tree. You pressed yourself close to him, barely daring to breathe as you peeked around the rough bark.

Your heart raced, pounding hard against your ribs as yoy felt the warmth of Clay’s solid frame behind you, his arm protectively wrapped around your fragile body, trying to offer what little comfort he could in the middle of nowhere.

The footsteps grew louder, closer. In the shadows, a hulking figure loomed—a massive man with a blank white mask obscuring his face. He was dragging something behind him, a limp, unmoving shape that glinted in the faint moonlight.

You two watched, frozen, as the figure approached the cabin you’d just left, his slow, deliberate footsteps making the ground seem to tremble. He stopped, his attention shifting as he spotted something lying just outside the cabin door—Clay’s backpack, lying just outside the door.

The manly figure dropped the body he was carrying, and you had to stifle a gasp, clapping your hands over your mouth as you realized it was a corpse, the lifeless face staring blankly toward you. You couldn’t look away, horror and shock pinning you to the spot.

You exhaled shakily, heart pounding as you turned to Clay, your voice barely a whisper. “What do we do?”

Quickly Clay’s hand found yours, giving it a reassuring squeeze, grounding you in the chaos. He glanced around, his face pale but determined, “Run.”

As the stranger bent down to pick up the backpack, you moved, slipping silently through the trees, keeping low to the ground as you put as much distance as you could between yourselves and the terrifying figure.

The moment you were far enough away, Clay didn't hesitate. He pulled you closer and you broke into a full sprint, running through the dark forest, hearts pounding, breaths coming fast and panicked. Branches whipped against your arms, roots threatened to trip you, but you kept going, the sheer adrenaline of survival driving you two forward.

Finally, the lake house loomed ahead. You and Clay bursted through the door, slamming it shut, your breaths coming fast and panicked. Everyone inside looked up, startled by your sudden entrance. Trent’s face twisted with annoyance and confusion as he watched you rush to lock the doors.

“What the hell is going on?” he demanded, standing up, his hands on his hips.

“We have to lock everything,” You panted, eyes wide with fear. “There’s someone out there, Trent. He’s… he’s killing people!”

“Wait, what?” Bree’s voice was a mixture of shock and disbelief.

Clay nodded, his jaw set, his expression deadly serious. “We saw him. He’s real, and he’s dangerous. You have to believe us.”

But Trent’s face contorted with anger as he looked from Clay to you, suspicion and jealousy flaring in his eyes. “You two were out there for hours, some ‘Dora The Explorer’ shit, or what?” He laughed bitterly, crossing his arms. “Did you get what you wanted, Clay? Sure looks like you did.”

Clay's jaw clenched. He didn't want to argue now. He just needed everyone to listen.

“Trent, stop it,” you snapped, glaring at him. But Trent’s anger only grew, and he stepped toward Clay, his fists clenched.

“What were you two doing out there?” he demanded. “Is that why you ran off with him? So that he could fuck—“

Before he could finish, you slapped him hard across the face, eyes blazing with fury. “Are you serious, Trent? Do you even hear yourself right now? People are dying out there, and you’re worried about… this?”

Trent’s face reddened with embarrassment and anger, but he backed off, muttering under his breath. Clay took a step closer to you, relieved that you were standing firm, before you turned to the others.

“Look, you guys, this isn’t some prank. We saw him. We saw him carrying a body,” you said, voice wavering with the horror of it. “He’s got a mask, he’s huge, and he’s not going to stop. We need to stay together and keep the doors locked.”

Bree and Trent exchanged a worried look, their faces pale, while Lawrence shook his head, clearly still processing what you were saying.

“Wait, wait,” Lawrence said, holding up his hands. “Where’s Chewie? He went outside a while ago.”

The realization hit all of you at once. Your heart sank as you all glanced toward the dark windows, the unease settling even deeper.

“We can’t just leave him out there,” Lawrence said, grabbing a makeshift weapon from the fireplace. “I’m gonna go look for him.“

“Lawrence, wait!” Clay tried to stop him, his voice desperate. “You can’t go out there alone. He’s… that guy, he’s still out there.”

But Lawrence shook his head, determined. “I can’t just leave him. I’ll be right back.”

With one last determined look, Lawrence stepped out the door, disappearing into the darkness. The door clicked shut behind him, and silence fell over the house.

You all sat in silence, waiting, every second stretching into an eternity. You clenched your hands, barely breathing, mind racing with everything you’d seen. Clay was next to you, feeling the tension radiating off you, so he reached over and took your hand, pulling you into his embrace. You clung to him, grateful for his presence in the midst of the horror.

Minutes ticked by, and then—suddenly—a blood-curdling scream pierced the night, echoing from outside. Everyone shot to their feet, eyes wide with horror.

“Lawrence!” Bree gasped, her hand covering her mouth.

You rushed to the window just as Lawrence came into view, sprinting toward the house, his face a mask of terror. “Open the door!” he screamed. “Help!”

But before he could reach the veranda, an axe flew through the air, embedding itself in his back with a sickening thud. Lawrence staggered, his scream cut short as he crumpled to the ground, just feet from the door.

“No!” You shrieked, hands flying to your mouth as you backed away from the window, your heart pounding. Clay wrapped his arms around you, your body shaking uncontrollably in his grasp, trying to shield you from the horror outside.

“Oh my god,” Bree whispered, her voice barely audible. “He’s right there. He’s… he’s right outside. Where’s the fucking police?”

You all backed away from the window, breaths shallow, fear hanging thick in the air. No one dared move as you heard heavy footsteps approach the house, the sound slow and deliberate, each step like a death knell.

Trent, his face drained of all color, looked around wildly. “We have to do something! We can’t just sit here.”

But Clay held up a hand, his voice barely above a whisper. “Stay calm. Everyone shut up.”

As the killer's footsteps circled the house, Clay could feel the dread creeping up on you all. He wasn't sure how much longer you could stay hidden, but for now, he needed to keep you safe.

You could feel yourself trembling as you leaned into Clay’s embrace, his arms wrapped tightly around you. The sense of safety you felt with him was barely enough to keep your fear at bay, but it was something, and right now, that was all you had.

After what felt like hours, the footsteps faded into silence, leaving only the distant, eerie sounds of the forest. The room was quiet, each of you knowing that the danger hadn’t passed—not really.

Without warning, the window shattered, and the killers massive figure loomed in the broken frame. Bree screamed, stumbling backward, her face pale as the masked man climbed inside, his machete gleaming in the dim light.

Bree was frozen, too terrified to move as the figure advanced on her. Your heart sank as you watched your friend, knowing what was coming but powerless to stop it. With a swift, brutal motion, he brought down his machete, and Bree’s scream was cut short.

You choked back your own scream, feeling Clay’s hand grip yours even tighter as you two stumbled back, desperate to escape. He felt his stomach drop, but he couldn't let that fear consume him. Not now. Not when your life was at stake.

Before any of you could move, Trent lunged at the killer, yelling in a mix of fury and terror, swinging a lamp in a desperate attempt to defend himself. The killer, unaffected, grabbed Trent by the collar, lifting him as if he weighed nothing. With horrifying ease, he drove his machete through Trent, pinning him against the wall as the light in Trent’s eyes faded.

“Run, y/n!” Clay shouted, his voice hoarse with urgency. Without another second to think, he pulled your hand, and you dashed toward the back door, your bodies propelled by sheer survival instinct.

The night air hit you like a slap as you sprinted into the darkness of the forest, not daring to look back. Trees blurred past them as you ran, each step fueled by pure adrenaline and the knowledge that the killer was somewhere close behind.

Just as you thought you’d run far enough, an old white house emerged through the dense trees, its silhouette ghostly in the moonlight. Clay pulled you toward it, both of you hoping that it might be a place to hide, to catch your breath.

The interior was dark and filled with dust, every shadow seeming to hide another threat. As you pressed further in, a muffled scream reached your ears, coming from beneath the floor.

“Did you hear that?” You whispered, voice trembling.

Clay’s eyes narrowed, determination replacing some of his fear. “Sounds like it’s coming from down there.”

Both of you moved quietly, scanning the ground until Clay spotted a hatch concealed under an old, moth-eaten rug. With a quick glance in your direction, he pulled it open, revealing a dark, narrow stairway that led into a tunnel system below. Clay went in first, helping you down after him as you ventured into the underground maze.

The tunnels were damp and cold, the flashlights casting shaky beams across the stone walls. You held onto Clay’s hand tightly, the comfort of his touch a lifeline in the claustrophobic darkness. You walked slowly, every creak and drip echoing ominously, heightening your anxiety with each step.

And then, at the end of a narrow passage, you saw her—a frail, neglected figure huddled against the wall, her eyes wide and haunted.

It was Whitney, chained and broken, but alive.

Clay’s breath caught in his throat, his face softening with relief as he ran to her, pulling her into his arms. Tears streamed down his face, and Whitney’s voice was a mixture of shock and joy as she clung to her brother, while he tried undoing the chains around her wrists.

You couldn’t believe it—after all the horror you’d endured, you’d found Whitney. For a brief, fleeting moment, hope filled your heart, a glimmer of something beyond survival. But just as quickly as it came, the hope was shattered by a loud, bone-chilling thud echoing from above.

He had found you.

“We need to go,” you whispered urgently, glancing at Clay, who nodded, his face pale but resolved as he helped up his sister.

With Whitney leaning on him, the three of you moved quickly, retracing your steps through the tunnels as quietly as possible. Every sound felt amplified, every footstep a potential signal to the killer who lurked somewhere nearby.

As you neared the hatch where you had entered, a shadow passed overhead, blocking out the light. Your blood ran cold as you realized the killer was directly above you, his heavy footsteps thudding against the wooden floor. The floorboards creaked ominously, as if he knew exactly where you were.

Clay motioned for you to stay quiet, his finger pressed to his lips as you huddled in the darkness, barely daring to breathe. The tension was suffocating, the air thick with terror as you waited, hoping he would move away.

But instead, the footsteps grew louder.

The floorboards above you suddenly splintered, and with a deafening crash, he broke through the ground, his massive form landing in the tunnel only feet away. His mask was eerily expressionless, but the menace in his stance was unmistakable.

You, Clay and Whitney didn't hesitate—you turned and ran, your footsteps echoing wildly through the narrow stone passage as the killers heavy tread followed close behind.

Panic threatened to overtake you as you turned corner after corner, every step feeling slower than the last, knowing the killer was gaining on you.

Suddenly, Whitney stumbled, her ankle catching on an uneven patch of ground. She fell forward with a cry of pain, her body slamming against the muddy floor. You came to a halt, immediately kneeling beside her. "Come on, Whitney!" You whispered frantically, grabbing her arm and trying to help her up.

But before you could get Whitney back to her feet, a terrifying blur of movement appeared in the dim tunnel just ahead. The killer lunged at you all, his enormous hand reaching out and grabbing Whitney by the leg, yanking her back with terrifying strength.

Your eyes widened, horror freezing your in place as Whitney's terrified face met yours.

"Run, Y/N! Go!" Whitney screamed, her voice raw with fear and desperation. Before you could react, the killers hand shot forward, gripping his machete with brutal intent. With a sickening thrust, he drove the blade through Whitney's chest, silencing her screams in an instant.

"WHITNEY!" Clay's voice shattered with anguish as he watched his sister fall limp in the killers grip, her eyes glazed, her life extinguished. He staggered forward, reaching out instinctively, but you grabbed his arm, pulling him back as he screamed for his sister, devastation in every note of his voice.

"Clay, we have to go!" You shouted, voice shaking but determined. You knew the heartbreak he was feeling, but there was no time to mourn. You had to survive.

Ignoring the horror behind you, you pushed Clay forward, forcing him to leave Whitney behind as you scrambled through the narrow passage, your hearts pounding with fear and grief. You rounded another corner, seeing the faint glow of moonlight from an exit just ahead. You burst out of the tunnels, gasping for breath as you emerged into the cool night air.

Without a word, you sprinted across the open ground, the silhouette of an old barn looming in the distance. It was dark and decrepit, but it was your only hope for shelter. You and Clay ducked inside, slamming the heavy doors shut and barricading them with whatever you could find—rusty tools, loose boards, anything that would hold.

You backed away, breaths coming fast as you listened to the silence outside, hoping desperately that the barn doors would hold. But the peace was short-lived. A loud thud echoed through the barn as the killers brutal strength tested the doors, each blow rattling the walls and shaking the barricade.

As the relentless pounding against the barn doors grew louder, Clay turned to you, his face set with fierce determination. “Y/n,” he whispered, his voice thick with urgency and emotion. He gently cupped your face, his eyes scanning yours as if he were memorizing every detail. “I need you to hide. I need to know you’re safe.”

Your eyes filled with tears, a mixture of fear and sorrow tearing at your heart. You didn’t want to leave him; the thought of Clay facing Jason alone filled you with dread. But before you could protest, he leaned in, pressing a desperate, tender kiss to your lips. You clung to him, your hands on his shoulders, pouring all your unspoken fears into that kiss, a silent promise that this wouldn’t be the end.

“Please, Clay,” you whispered. “Don’t let him take you too.”

Clay’s hand lingered on your cheek as he nodded, his own gaze wavering, he needed to come back to you, whatever it took. “I won’t. I promise.”

Reluctantly, you slipped behind an old row of machines, crouching low as you struggled to keep your sobs silent. You watched through the rusted metal as Clay grabbed an axe, his frame tense and ready to face the monster that had brought so much horror into your lives.

A moment later, the doors burst open with an explosive crash, and the killer stormed inside. His dark figure loomed large in the dusty moonlight filtering through the barn, his machete gleaming in one hand. Clay didn’t hesitate; he charged forward, swinging the axe with fierce determination.

The clash was brutal, each blow echoing through the barn as Clay and the killer fought with raw strength and desperation. He was a towering force, but Clay was quick and strong, his tall frame unyielding as he met his attacks head-on.

The fight felt nearly balanced, each of them refusing to give an inch. But as Clay swung the axe once more, it lodged into the wall, stuck fast. He tried to pull it free, but the killer seized the moment, his powerful arms wrapping around Clay in a crushing headlock.

Clay's heart raced, terror and desperation clawing at him. He couldn't let the killer win—not this way.

He forced Clay toward a wood chipper that sat at the back of the barn, its old blades rusted but still deadly. His gloved hand reached over and flicked the switch, the machine roaring to life, its metallic grinding sound filling the air as it waited hungrily.

Your heart pumped like crazy as you watched, terror squeezing your chest like a vice. You couldn’t sit back and watch Clay be pulled to his death.

You knew you had to act.

Grabbing a nearby iron bar, you crept forward, eyes never leaving the killer. Summoning every ounce of courage, you shouted, “Hey!” Your voice was filled with defiance as you swung the bar with all your strength, smashing it into his masked face just as he turned toward you.

He staggered, his grip on Clay loosening for a brief moment as he reeled from the blow. Clay took the chance, scrambling forward to grab a chain lying on the ground. In one swift motion, he looped it around the killers neck, pulling it tight. You watched, heart hammering in your chest as Clay threw the other end of the chain into the wood chipper.

The machine’s teeth caught the chain, beginning to pull it in, dragging the killer closer and closer to the spinning blades. He struggled, his massive frame jerking violently as he fought against the relentless pull, his boots scraping against the ground.

Both you and Clay watched as the killer was slowly dragged toward his end. But in a last desperate lunge, he managed to twist just enough to shove you backward, sending you sprawling to the ground.

Your head struck a hard surface, and your vision blurred, darkness creeping in around the edges. The last thing you heard was Clay screaming your name, his voice filled with panic and desperation as he ran to your side.

Through your fading vision, you caught a final glimpse of the killer, his body pulled inexorably into the churning blades. With a final, blood-curdling crack, he was gone, disappearing into the maw of the wood chipper.

And as the darkness took you, you felt Clay’s arms wrap around you, his face close to yours, his voice trembling as he whispered your name, pleading for you to hold on.

Soft beeps and the faint hum of hospital machinery pulled you from your forced slumber. Slowly, you opened your eyes, vision hazy as the sterile white ceiling came into focus. It took a moment to remember where you were, but then your hand registered a warmth—a hand holding yours, firm and steady.

Clay was there, his face pale with worry but his eyes intensely focused on you, he’d been watching over you for hours. His grip tightened the moment your fingers moved, and his face flooded with relief, his shoulders sagging as if he’d been holding his breath the whole time.

“Y/n… thank God,” he whispered, his voice breaking. He leaned closer, his other hand coming up to gently brush your hair back. “I was so scared,” he murmured, his voice choked with emotion.

You managed a small, tired smile, your heart swelling as you looked up at him. “Clay…” you whispered, voice barely a breath but filled with warmth. You felt safe, the chaos and terror of the last night drifting away as you held his gaze.

He squeezed your hand again, his thumb rubbing softly over your knuckles, grounding himself to you, reassuring himself you were really there.

“I’m here,” he said, his voice filled with quiet certainty. “And you’re okay. We’re safe now.” His words were soft but full of determination, a promise that you would never face anything like that alone again.

Clay’s smile grew, eyes shining with a mixture of happiness and tears as he bent down and pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. “I’m not letting you out of my sight,” he whispered, his tone soft but fiercely protective.

You let yourself sink into the comfort of his touch, your fingers tightening around his hand. You’d both lost so much, endured so much horror, but right now, with Clay by your side, you knew you’d finally escaped.

You’d made it through. And no matter what the future held, as long as you two were together, you knew you would be okay.

i feel like acting in a slasher movie would be so fun !!

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cutielando · 1 year ago

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hold me | j.f.

synopsis: in which you're the only one he trusts

my masterlist

The ringing of your phone made you look up from the notes you were reviewing for your big biology test that was coming up.

You took your phone and saw that it was Justin calling, making a smile appear on your face.

"Hey babe, what's up?" you said once you answered, your voice cheerful.

"Um, hi. Can I, um, uh, can I crash at your place tonight?" his voice was shaky, which immediately made you panic.

"Justin, what's going on? What happened?" you asked, the notes on your bed long forgotten.

"Can we talk at your place?" he asked, sniffling through the phone.

"Of course, of course. I'll be waiting for you"

"Thanks. I love you"

"I love you too, baby"

You hung up and immediately started gathering your study material and putting it on your desk, knowing you weren't going to get any more studying done that evening.

After you were finished, you made your way to your parents' room to let them know Justin was coming over and was going to spend some time at your house.

Your parents had loved Justin ever since the two of you started dating 2 years ago, so they were delighted Justin was coming over.

"Did he eat? Do you guys want dinner?" your mom asked, knowing that Justin's home situation was not the most ideal.

"I don't know, I didn't get to ask. I'll heat up some leftover pizza if he's hungry, we'll be fine" you said and just as you finished talking, the doorbell was heard.

You closed the door to your parents' room and bolted down the stairs, flinging open your front door.

Justin was standing there, his Jersey jacket on his hand and his bag flung over his shoulder. He had tried tears coating his cheeks, making your heart shatter more.

"Oh, baby" you muttered and pulled him into your house, locking the door behind you and enveloping him in your arms.

He let his bag fall to the floor as he wrapped his arms tightly around your waist, burying his head into your shoulder.

"Sh, it's okay, I'm here. Let it all out, you're safe with me" you kept whispering into his hear, rubbing soothing circles on his back and the back of his head.

His cries were muffled by your shirt, his whole body shaking in your hold.

Your heart was breaking for the poor boy currently breaking down in your arms. Nobody deserved to be going through what he was, such a sweet and gentle soul yet so damaged and broken at the same time.

After a while of just holding him, he finally managed to calm down, his cried turning into silent sobs and finally dying down completely.

"Did you eat?" you asked him softly, not wanting your voice to disturb the silence and peaceful atmosphere that enveloped the two of you.

"No, I didn't get around to it" he croaked out, his voice hoarse because of the crying.

"Come on, I heated up some leftover pizza for you. Let's get something in your stomach and then we'll go up to my room and talk, alright?" you were caressing his cheeks while you talked, his arms still wrapped tightly around your waist.

He nodded, not trusting his voice to speak up.

You unwrapped his arms from around your waist but took his hand in yours, pulling him to the kitchen. You knew he needed to feel your touch more than anything right now.

"This is good" he commented once he started eating the pizza, his voice still small but steady now.

"I know, I convinced my parents to get it from that new place that just opened up. The food is absolutely delicious there" you said while you ran your hands through his hair comfortingly.

He nodded but didn't say anything else, making silence envelop the spacious kitchen.

You kept your eyes on him, observing how he was avoiding making eye contact with you. You didn't know why, but figured it was because he would break down again if he looked at you. He tended to do that a lot.

"Come on, let's get you in bed" you said once he finished eating, putting his plate in the dishwasher and taking his hand.

He silently walked behind you, his steps light and silent as to not disturb your parents.

Once you were both in the privacy of your room, Justin took a seat on your bed and kept his gaze on the floor, not saying anything.

"Do you want to talk about it?" you asked him, taking a seat next to him on your bed and taking one of his hands in yours, intertwining your fingers with his.

He was quiet for a second before he raised his head to look at you.

"Meth Seth is back. He lost a grand of cash last week and he thinks I stole it from him. We got into an argument tonight and, well, I gathered all my shit and left" he said, his hurt now replaced with anger and defeat.

"Look at me, baby" you said as you raised your free hand to his face and cupped his cheek, making him look at you. "You're going to move here, permanently. I don't care what anyone says, your mom or Seth or anyone. I'm not letting you go back there ever again, do you hear me?"

He pursed his lips and nodded, his eyes filling with tears.

"I don't want to intrude. I don't want to be a bother to you or your parents" he started shaking his head, looking away from you.

"You, Justin Foley, are not a bother to us. My parents adore you, they are going to be thrilled to have you around constantly. Baby, you are so loved by them, they see you as their own son. Don't ever doubt how loved you are by this family, how much we want to keep you safe and sound, baby"

By now, tears were running down your cheeks as you looked at the broken boy before you. Justin was also crying, staring back at you, not believing what he was hearing.

He grew up without a father and with a junkie mother, a mother who never cared about his well-being as much as she cared for her boyfriends. A mother who never made him feel loved, cared for and happy, what any child should feel from their parents.

"I love you so fucking much, and I am so fucking grateful to have you in my life. You don't even realize how much you mean to me and how much I appreciate everything you and your parents have done for me. You've saved me, Y/N"

You pulled him into your arms and rested your head in the crook of his neck, both of you sobbing into each other.

"I love you so much, Justin Foley" you whispered in his ear, planting a kiss at the base of his neck.

"I love you, too. So much. Please, just hold me and don't let me go" he whimpered, wrapping his arms even tighter around your body, if that was even possible.

"I'm never going to let you go, baby. Never" you whispered back, reassuring both of you that you are never going to leave each other.

Your thoughts started to wonder on what your life was going to look from now on, but you shook them away.

For now, you were just going to hold your boy.

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broz0neglitters · 8 months ago

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How do I make you love me? ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Brozone Headcanons Smut/NSFW Fem Reader Warning: Bit of Smut & P*rn Mention

John Dory:

-He has a box full of old p*rn dvd and in his bands day when ever his younger brother were out of the room plus grandma wasn't around john would watch it bruce knows that john still has that p*rn dvd collection

-His Cock is massive he would tear ya

-He loves to cockwarm so be expected to do it all the time

-once you start sucking his cock he will thrust and face fuck you til his cum fills your mouth

-when he left he brought the p*rn dvd with him he would watch it alone he would jerk off to it

-He wants to make a p*rn video with you but you refused which made him sad but he understands right?

-But he would still begged for it desperately and seeking your approval to let him atleast flim you two doing it but you made him promise to never publish it anywhere if he dose you'll hunt him down and cut his balls off you're that serious

-John Jerks off anywhere but he will most likey get caught by other trolls and even you + his brother dude can't keep his hand to himself

-He out of all of his brothers will most likey have a OnlyTroll account (Trolls version of Only fans)

-You feel awkward when he flims going to town on you

-Clay Thought it would be funny to see what john posted so he made a fake girl account and brought it and holy shit clay saw his own brother cock and clay immediately had nightmares for days he couldn't even looked at John the same way ever again poor dude

-John is super awkward during sex he can't even talk dirty to you making your sex super awkward come on he spends his 20 years alone in the woods with a armadillo :c

-John is rough at fingering you at some point you might bleed cuz of him

"John dory you asshole you're making me bleed thanks to you I'll be bleeding for the nexts fews days!" you said angirly while cleaning the blood off yourself in the bathroom he tried to apologized but you ignore him

-Horny af

-wants you to send nudes to him every hour or so even when you're hanging with friends there's a catch he wants you to play with yourself which made you rolled your eyes at him but you still do it anyways he wants you to moan it was hard for you cause you didn't want your friends espically your parents to hear it

"Gosh why did I date that asshole." you said to yourself...

-John will jerk off to every video/nudes photos you send to him is his ways of jerking off when your not around

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

Bruce:

-He wants to make sex last eternally with you because he needs a breakthrough and he only wants what right in front of him which was you

-his cock is big and thick

-also horny af

-Both rough and gentle in somedays

-He is least likey to get caught jerking off he only wants you to walk in on him jerking off that's all he ever wanted

-He will face fuck the shit out of you

-cockwarming are this thing he would beg for it constantly

-he definitely watches p*rn he also own half of the P*rn dvd collection cuz JD Gave him half of it

-He gave the dvd back to john cuz he doesn’t needs it anymore

-Back in his bands day being a heartthrob he would go to their places and have sex with them so basically a one night stand I could say

-A fan once leaked a video of him fucking her and bruce demands she takes it down because he dose not want his grandma to see it same with his younger brother and also the whole world it would ruin brozone reputation so he only told john about it and they found a lawyer... Thankfully the video was taken down but bruce still can't live that down he's afraid that clay,floyd and branch will find that video...

-Also john dory was such a supportive brother during that time when bruce told him about the leaked video he put all activities aside and help bruce get that video get taken down that was the only time john dory wasn’t his bossy self...

-he would make sure there's no camera hidden in the room you told him that there was none and you told him not to worry about it at all put he still take your phone and lock it somewhere he's that paranoid

-Bruce will gently finger you until you beg him for more he doesn’t make you bleed unlike john dory

-Bruce is a smooth talker and he's great at talking dirty it makes you even turn on during sex you crave for his dick inside of you even if he hasn’t put it in yet that's how good he is at dirty talking

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

Clay:

-You guys go back in time where you guys were just friends with benefits but shortly after you two actually have feelings for each others so you guys started dating so you both were no longer friends with benefits

-Clay dosen't have time for p*rn he watched it with you sometimes even as a movie night

-Also the least to get caught jerking off he also would want you to caught him jerking off to your photos

-His dick is thin and long

-He's can be rough in some day and gentle in some days aswell

-only Horny when you're around

-He will face fuck you

-Cockwarming while he works is a must for you

-He likes to name called you like Bitch and slut and so on

-He will pull your hair while fucking you

-Rough at fingering you but dosen't make you bleed like jonh did

-remember how I mention he made a fake onlytrolls account and pretended to be a girl to see JD Well he saw JD Cock and wanted to jump off a bridge and when ever john dory comes to visit clay can't even look at john in the eye or even talk to him the only thing clay ever said was hi and bye to john...

-He's also good at dirty talking every words he said will only make you want him even more

-when looking at him in the eye while hitting your sweet spots it makes him turn on by seening your expressions when he hits your sweet spot

-He always busy so when's he's at work he would ask if you could send him nudes/video of you playing with yourself

-He wouldn't jerk off cuz he's at work but he'll praise you but once he gets home he demand you fuck him right here and then no excuses cause he's been waiting all day to get fuck your pretty little cunt...

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

Floyd:

-You and floyd are super shy during your first time

-Small cock late bloomers but don't underestimated his small cock plz

-You felt uncomfortable getting naked in front of floyd but be told you " I can see the real you, girl You don't have to hide I'll teach you how to shine." he said smiling at you but shortly after you feel comfortable to get naked in front of him

-Floyd would ask if you could cockwarm him he needs it while you cockwarm floyd would usally writes songs or just sings

-He is horny when you cockwarm him only when you cockwarm him

-He watches p*rn 24/7 even when you're around

-He dosen't jerk off and will never get caught jerking off he only wants to do it when you play with yourself

-he dosen't face fuck you he's the only brozone who's dosen't face fuck you and he's super gentle aswell

-when he fingers you he loves to see your expression he would smirk when he hits your sweet spot

-He loves it when you send him nudes he will also send you a dick pics aswell he'll compliment you making you feel extra comfortable in your own skins when sending nudes to him

"You look stunnting baby." Etc

-Floyd also witnesses clay making a onlytrolls account and pretending to be a girl (you already know the content.) floyd would tease clay about it for days althought floyd didn't see it himself he knows it bad cause he saw clay put many eyes drop to hopefully blind him at what he just saw it was worste than seening a puppy get taken away from his mother and cows getting killed to be made into beef.

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

Branch:

-His dick is pretty average size just perfect

-He has a massive crush on you he wants to make you fall for him

-He will jerk off but only in his bunker so he will never get caught at all

-Also rough and gentle in some days

-Cock warming is a must for him in fact is the 1st thing that you guys do at his bunker when you come over

-He is shy to asked you to have sex with him even when you guys are just simply cockwarming

-He watches p*rn in full volume also like floyd 24/7

-He loves to finger you especially in front of a mirror because he wants to see your expression

-He would sometimes asked him self "How do I make her want me?"

-Just like bruce he wants sex to last eternally he never wants you to never stop having sex with him "How do I make you love me?" he would asked you while you were cockwarming him

"Branch, I'll always love you even if we're having sex i'll never leave you." you said kissing his soft cheek which made him blush and giggle he has abandonment issues

-Branch likes to tease you by thrusting on accident just to see how you would react usually when he dose you would let out a gasp or a tiny moan

-He is horny but only when you asked him to fuck you

----------------- Anyways, I hoped you enjoyed it anyways Request are closed for now and will reopen very soon and also I have updated my blog so please be sure to check out my latest update here's the link:

Plz read it I would appreciate if you all do read it and hopefully you all understands and respect my time off as-well anyways have a great day I will be sure to make a part 2 of brozone smut headcanons <3 Like + Follow are very much appreciated!

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anakinstwinklebunny · 4 months ago

Note

hiii

so idk if your requests are open but could you please write some hcs about clayton Beresford as a husband and dad

Thank youuu ❤️

☆*: .｡. o(≧▽≦)o .｡.:*☆

HUSBAND/DAD!CLAY HEADCANONS

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

Author's note: of course my requests are open! I just LOVE seeing notification from my inbox, so thank you very much <3 hope you like it

MARRIAGE

Clayton Beresford who after two delightful years of your relationship proposed to you. He took you to the fancy restaurant, and since it was something you did often, you hadn't have any suspicious. But have you thought about marrying him? Of course, yet, you wanted to give him time. You knew how his earlier marriage ended so it'd be out of your character to even suggest him taking your relationship to another level. But the ring you got was out of your wildest dreams - 4 carat round cut diamond ring that seemed to shine more than every star in the sky

Clayton Beresford who got even more all-about-you after wedding. Even more love making with no care in the world, long honeymoon, even more spent time together just more everything

Clayton Beresford who, despite his demanding job, always makes time for you. He’s the type of husband who will surprise you with small gestures; like leaving sweet notes in your purse or sending you flowers (mostly to your workplace) randomly just to remind you that he’s thinking of you.

Clayton Beresford who loves planning spontaneous weekend trips to your favorite places. Whether it’s a cozy cabin in the mountains or a luxury hotel in the city, Clayton enjoys these escapes to focus solely on you without any distractions.

Clayton Beresford who's big on surprises. He might book a last-minute trip to Paris (or any place on earth), arrange for a private dinner on the rooftop of the restaurant's building or just in the place you'd not be able to pay by yourself. Or buy you that piece of jewelry you casually mentioned months ago.

Clayton Beresford who has a strong protective instinct. He always ensures you’re safe, and anyone who might pose a threat to you or your happiness would have to face his wrath.

Clayton Beresford who depended on you doing the grocery shopping since he had never done that before (however after a few times he gained knowledge);

Clay glanced away for just a second, but when he looked back, you were gone. His brow furrowed as he scanned the immediate area, stepping away from the cart to see if you had wandered behind another display. But there was no sign of you.

“Dammit,” he muttered under his breath, frustration creeping in as he quickened his pace, determined not to lose you. Not in this place.

He began weaving through the aisles, his eyes darting around in search of you, listening intently for any sound that might be your voice. But the supermarket was huge, and the weekend crowd made it even more overwhelming.

With a groan of annoyance, Clay pressed on, moving faster now, his heart racing a little at the thought of losing you in this sea of people. Then, suddenly, his eyes caught a glimpse of you between rushing people. A glimmer of hope flickered in his chest as he turned sharply toward the sound.

You were standing by the dairy section, casually chatting on the phone as you picked up items. Relief washed over him, and he silently thanked whatever forces led him to find you.

Like a lost puppy or a child who had been separated from their parent, he hurried over to you, his earlier frustration melting into a quiet sense of relief.

Reaching for a carton of milk, you sensed someone close behind you. Turning around, you found Clay standing there, his expression a mix of worry and boyish vulnerability that made you smile. It was as if he had been a little kid lost in a big mall again.

You handed him the shopping list, tapping the line where it said 'bananas' with a knowing look.

Clay accepted the list with a determined nod. He was a grown man—he could handle picking up some bananas.

But when he reached the produce section, his confidence wavered as he stared at the six different types of bananas on display, his frown deepening in confusion.

It was supposed to be a simple task: grab the bananas and return to you. Yet here he was, staring at the display like they were some exotic species he had never encountered.

He didn't recognize any of the types, and he had no clue which one you wanted. So, with a loosing sigh, he carefully picked a bunch of yellow bananas, added some mini ones, and then tossed in a few green ones for good measure. Feeling a bit more confident, he placed them all in the cart and made his way back to you. A small, proud smirk forming on his lips as he approached.

“I got them,” he announced, a hint of pride in his voice as if he had just completed a great feat.

You glanced down at the cart, noticing the remarkable assortment. A smile tugged at your lips as you looked back at him. "Baby, but... they're all different kinds."

His smirk faded slightly as a flush of embarrassment crept up his neck. He glanced at the cart, then back at you “I know,” he admitted, his voice soft and a bit self-conscious. “I wasn’t sure which ones you wanted, so I just… grabbed a few to be safe.”

Your heart melted at his effort, and you stood on your toes to press a tender kiss to his cheek. "C'mon, we'll figure out these bananas together."

His cheeks flushed a deeper red at your affectionate gesture, and he looked down at you with warm, loving eyes, a shy smile curving his lips.

“Okay,” he murmured, feeling content as he started pushing the cart again, this time with you walking beside him.

PREGNANCY

Clayton Beresford who was shocked yet thrilled when he found out you're pregnant. He was always gentle with you but from that day he got on another level of doing everything in his power to make sure you're safe, happy and comfortable

Clayton Beresford who seemed to be hypnotized by your changing body (so obviously loved to have his hands on it, and you loved when he did)

Clayton Beresford who had to deal with your neediness for attention/affection;

"Baby, I'm already late. You know I can't stay longer," he sighs, slipping on his black cloak, the fabric rustling as he moves with familiar urgency.

"Are you sure you can't stay just a little longer?" you pout, leaning against the doorframe of your mudroom

He chuckles softly and walks over to you, wrapping his strong arms around your waist to pull you close to his chest "Baby, I'd love nothing more than to stay," he murmurs "But…" he sighs again, the weight of responsibility heavy in his voice, "you know I can't be late twice in a row."

He presses a lingering kiss to your forehead, his muscles firm against your softer frame. The warmth of his embrace makes you want to hold onto him just a little longer.

"But I thought you'd make love to me all morning," you tease, your voice soft and playful "and then spoil me with a big breakfast."

His eyes softened after his large hands roam over to cup your pregnant belly, his fingers gently tracing over the curve "That was the original plan," his lips formed into a knowing smirk. His hands linger on your body, as if memorizing every inch before he has to let go. "But you know I've got to go to work…"

"But what if the baby comes out while you're not here?" you pout, feeling the warmth of his knuckles as they gently trace over your swollen belly.

He chuckles softly at your worry, his lips curling into a reassuring smile. He steps back slightly, his hands slipping from your waist to admire the sight of your pregnant form. "Babe, we've talked about this. The baby's not coming today," he says with a confident grin, glancing down at your round belly before meeting your concerned gaze.

"Yeah... right," you mumble, still not entirely convinced.

He can't help but smirk at how endearingly moody you are, especially when you pout like that. With a gentle touch, he wraps his fingers around your chin, tilting your face up so you're looking directly into his smiling eyes. "Don't give me that look," he murmurs softly, his voice filled with warmth as he leans in closer, his breath brushing against your lips.

"I'm gonna miss you," you whisper, your voice barely audible as the reality of his departure sinks in.

His gaze locks onto your big, sparkling eyes as he gently cups your cheeks. "I'm going to miss you too, baby. But I have to go to work," he murmurs with a tender smile, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips once more.

"I love you, you know," your voice lingering, trying to stretch out the moment just a little longer.

His smile deepens, touched by your efforts to keep him close, but he's all too aware of the ticking clock. "I love you too, more than anything. But if I don't leave now, I'll be late for a meeting with the board... and I can't afford to do that again," his tone a mix of regret and urgency as he gives you a sympathetic look, hoping you understand.

"But you're their boss," you protest softly, a pout forming on your lips.

He sighs, knowing that leaving without giving you something special will likely leave you moody for the rest of the day. Even though he’s pressed for time, he quickly pivots. "How about I give you a kiss for the road?" he suggests, a playful glint in his eyes as he shifts the mood.

"Okay," you reply, a small smile tugging at your lips.

He smiles back, his hand finding its way to your cheek once more, tenderly cradling your face. He pauses, taking a moment to get lost in your sparkling blue eyes, savoring the connection before slowly closing his own and leaning in. His lips meet yours in a slow, loving kiss

Clayton Beresford who makes sure to lift up your pregnancy mood;

His heart sank at the sight of your tear-streaked face. Instantly, worry fills his eyes and he kneels beside you, his voice soft and full of concern. "Baby, what’s wrong?" He gently tilts your chin up with his fingers, urging you to meet his gaze.

"I feel so huge..." you murmur, your voice trembling with emotion.

"Baby, you know I love every part of you. Nothing could ever change that," he says tenderly, his words full of sincerity.

But your insecurities linger, and you turn to him, searching his face. "So you think I’m huge?" you ask, misinterpreting his silence as agreement.

He sighs again, feeling a pang of guilt at how vulnerable you are right now. Quickly, he tries to soothe your worries before they spiral. "No, no, love..." he insists, cupping your face with both hands, his thumbs brushing away the traces of your tears. "You’re not huge, you’re beautiful."

You glance down at your growing belly, frustration evident in your voice. "I barely fit into my pants."

He smiles softly, his gaze never leaving yours, understanding the deep-seated concerns you have about your changing body. "I know, sweetheart, I know," he murmurs, his thumb gently stroking your cheek. "But that’s just because of the incredible little life you’re carrying."

"You look absolutely radiant when you’re pregnant," he adds, his words filled with admiration, careful not to say anything that might upset you further.

"Yeah?" you sniffle, your voice small and uncertain.

He nods slowly, his eyes locked onto yours, full of love and reassurance. "Yeah, baby," he repeats softly. "You’re glowing, and you’re absolutely, stunningly beautiful. Anyone would be lucky to have you, pregnant or not."

"But what if after I push the baby out, I still look pregnant? And... and I have all these marks, and my body doesn’t go back to the way it was? And you'll leave me?"

His heart aches as he listens to your fears, unable to bear hearing you doubt the body he cherishes so deeply. "No, no, no, shhh, baby, no..." he murmurs urgently, his voice soothing as he tries to calm your spiraling thoughts. "I would never, ever leave you for that. My love for you knows no limits, nothing could change that."

His hands continue to tenderly stroke your face, his touch gentle and reassuring as he speaks. "I love you so much, sweetheart. The marks on your body from carrying our beautiful child—they'll only make me love you and your body even more."

"Yeah?" you sniffle, looking at him with tear-filled eyes.

his eyes filled with admiration and love as he nods "Yeah, baby. Because those marks are proof of your incredible strength, of the life you’ve nurtured for nine months.. and only an absolute goddess could manage that"

Clayton Beresford who every day remaided you how beautiful you are, what a treasure you are in his life that nothing could replace

Clayton Beresford who got more cuddly with you;

"Look at that… he’s a little boxer" his lips curved up as he felt the baby’s tiny movements beneath his fingertips. His voice was filled with awe, and there was a boyish excitement in his eyes that made you smile.

"He?" you asked, raising an eyebrow as you glanced up from your book. "How do you know it’s a boy?"

He shrugged, but the cheeky grin that spread across his features betrayed the certainty in his heart. He leaned closer, letting his chin rest on your bump. His touch was gentle, almost tingly at times while his long fingers made sure to memorize the path over your swollen skin

"Father’s instincts," he whispered

"Oh? Didn’t know you had those," you chuckled, your fingers threading through his tousled curls. There was something endearing about how intensely focused he was on your belly - his brow furrowed in concentration as he searched for more signs of the baby’s movements.

Clay still kept his, this time less wider, smile over his lips. He seemed to calm down under not only your touch but the feeling of your belly with his child right in his reach and right before his eyes. He shifted slightly, pressing his lips gently against your tummy. His lips lingered for a little longer, his expression changing to more surprised;

"Hush," he murmured softly, his hand stilling when he found the spot where the baby seemed to be resting. "I can sense him…"

Yet, the baby had quieted, and clay's lips formed into a pout. The frustration knitting his brows before he nuzzled to your belly "Can’t you encourage him to kick or something? I want to know that he’s alive…" he mumbled, his voice laced with a mix of concern and childish impatience (that you rarely saw before)

You couldn’t help but laugh softly at his earnestness. "Clay, how am I supposed to encourage him? Maybe he’s sleeping."

He groaned softly, looking up at you with those soulful eyes, making it impossible not to find him utterly endearing. He looked like a grumpy child who hadn’t received the attention he thought he deserved and it was both cute and hilarious

"Well, I don’t know," he muttered, his hand still drawing small circles on your belly. "Talk to him? Tell him how cool I am… maybe he’ll be excited then and want to say hi."

You rolled your eyes playfully, still stroking his curls. "Baby, don’t be ridiculous… he's probably sleeping."

He huffed in response, still pouting but clearly knowing you were right. The baby was just asleep, and there was nothing he could do but wait. Still, the idea of his child not acknowledging his presence seemed to tug at something deep within him.

"I just want him to know that I’m here too," he mumbled

You smiled down at him, your voice soothing as you reassured him. "I bet he does, clay."

"Just imagine how cute he’s gonna be," clay mused, his voice softening as he let himself drift into the fantasy of fatherhood. "A baby version of me, running around, being a menace to everyone…"

You smirked, raising an eyebrow. "What if it’s a girl?"

His hand paused for a moment, the weight of the thought catching him off guard. For a few seconds, his expression was blank as he processed the idea of having a daughter. Then, slowly, his usual cocky grin reappeared, but with a touch of tenderness that hadn’t been there before.

"A baby girl," he echoed, as if trying out the words. "She could get your looks, though. I wouldn’t mind that. The second most beautiful girl in the world… and daddy’s little princess."

Just then, he felt a light flutter beneath his palm. His eyes widened in surprise, lighting up like a child on Christmas morning, the pout completely erased by a wide grin "There you are…"

The baby seemed to respond to his voice, shifting slightly as if acknowledging his father’s presence. He continued to rub gently over your belly, his touch loving and protective, showering the area with soft kisses.

"Already responding to me," he whispered, a wave of satisfaction washing over him as he felt the tiny movements beneath his hands. "Smart baby…"

clayton continued to soothe your belly, his hands and lips moving in a calming rhythm until the baby settled back into stillness. Even as the baby quieted, he wasn’t ready to let go. He lingered, enjoying the feeling of being close to both of you, his heart full and content.

"Guess he’s asleep again…" he said softly, a hint of disappointment in his voice.

"Or maybe he’s just tired of you," you teased lightly, brushing a strand of hair away from his face.

His eyes widened in mock offense, his pout returning as he looked up at you, clearly not appreciating the joke. "Very funny," he grumbled, his frown deepening. "I am the most interesting person this baby will ever meet—"

But despite his grumbling, you could see the love and excitement in his eyes, the way he couldn’t wait to meet the little life growing inside you. And you knew, without a doubt, that he would be the best father this baby could ever ask for.

Clayton Beresford who spoiled you way more during your pregnancy. More presents without occasion, more affection, more cuddles, just more everything there was to give

Clayton Beresford who was there on most of your doctor appointments. If he had a busy schedule, which happened often, he then couldn't appear (but you didn't mind, since it was just doctor appointment to check on your and the child's health, nothing more so much important for him to be there everytime)

Clayton Beresford who was obsessed with making love to you during your pregnancy;

"youre-youre so big--" you mewl underneath him

"I am, aren't I?" he panted, his hands gripping your plump hips tightly. "And you're so fucking tight, sweetheart." His words spurred him on, pushing deeper inside you to hit that sweet spot over and over again.

your eyes barely could keep themselves open from the sensation of having him again in your hole. Who would have known that your pregnancy hormones would make you so horny you would cry to Clayton about it. And him, being such a generous gentleman who loved his wife with all his being, how could just leave you like that? When you sobbed, begged for his touch

"Don't close your eyes," he commanded softly "Open them. Let me see the look on your face when I'm inside you."

your eyes reluctantly opened, at least they lingered between half opened and half closed. A moan rumbled through your throat as you took in the sight of his muscles that ripped whenever his hold grew too much

"That's it," he panted, his eyes locked onto yours. "Let me hear you." Clayton's breath hitched as he felt her body tremble beneath him. The way you moaned and your completely swollen breasts jingled with each thrust was driving him wild. "Fuck, I'm gonna cum," he warned you, picking up the pace even more.

PARENTHOOD

Clayton Beresford who was there for you for the whole childbirth. Encouraging you, giving you support, etc. He'd insist you'd hold the baby first, not him. And before he'd even hold the newborn, he'd make sure you're all safe and everything's okay;

After making sure you held the newborn first and you were all okay, he had time to take the baby close to his chest, his large, strong arms cradling the fragile newborn bundle with a tenderness that belied his powerful frame. The baby’s skin was a delicate shade of pink, still wrinkled from the birth, and Clay couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming surge of emotion as he gazed down at the tiny life nestled against him. The baby was so small, so impossibly vulnerable, and it made something deep within him tremble and break.

Tears welled up in his eyes, blurring his vision as he gently stroked the baby’s cheek with a trembling hand. His touch was feather-light, his fingertips barely brushing the baby’s soft, downy skin and his hand looked enormous in comparison to the baby’s minuscule features.

“He’s so small…” he whispered, his voice cracking under the weight of his emotions. His throat tightened as he tried to hold back the tears threatening to spill over.

“Are you crying?” you asked softly, a tired smile playing on your lips as you rested after the long and exhausting delivery

He glanced up at you and he felt a single tear escape and trail down his cheek “…No—yes… maybe…” he admitted, a sheepish smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He quickly wiped the tear away with the back of his hand, but it was clear that his composure was unraveling. He returned his gaze to the baby in his arms, his expression softening as he ran a gentle finger over the baby’s tiny hand, marveling at how delicate and perfect it was.

When the newborn's hand wrapped around clay's finger, he felt like his new heart might explode from overwhelming feeling. It was so cute, the baby’s grip firm and warm

“He’s holding my finger…” he murmured, his voice filled with pure, unfiltered awe

The baby continued to cling to his finger, his tiny hand gripping the large digit with a determination that was both heartwarming and humbling. Clay smiled through tears and a mixture of pride and amazement shined in his eyes as he gently caressed the baby’s hand, utterly mesmerized by the strength in such a small being.

“Such a tight grip… I’ve already created a little warrior,” he mused with a soft chuckle, his voice laced with pride. He looked down at his son, his heart brimming with a love so profound it was almost overwhelming. “You’re going to be strong, just like your momma” he added, his tone filled with admiration.

“…You have your momma’s eyes, you know?” he whispered, his voice barely audible as a fresh wave of emotion washed over him. There was a hint of pride in his voice, but also something deeper, something reverent. The sight of those eyes, so familiar and yet so new, made him feel as though he was looking at a piece of you—a part of the woman he loved more than anything in the galaxy.

As if sensing the weight of the moment, the baby cooed softly, his tiny body wriggling uncomfortably against the confines of the blanket. You watched the first interaction between your husband and your child and it was the most endearing thing you experience. Delivery was hard, damn it hurt like hell, as if devil himself teared your insides but as soon as the baby was out, all the pain was forgotten

“You don’t like that, huh?” he murmured, his voice filled with amusement as he gently traced soothing circles over the baby’s cheek “I don’t blame you… I’d hate being swaddled too.”

Clayton Beresford who is the kind of dad who’s always one step ahead when it comes to the safety and well-being of your children. He’s vigilant about who they spend time with and ensures they grow up in the safest environment possible.

Clayton Beresford who, despite his often serious demeanor, has a major soft spot when it comes to his children. He’s not afraid to get down on the floor and play with them, and he’ll often indulge them in things other might not—like staying up a bit past bedtime for just one more story.

Clayton Beresford who enjoys spoiling his kids, whether it’s with the latest toys, gadgets, or extravagant birthday parties. However, he’s careful to balance this with teaching them the importance of gratitude and not taking things for granted.

Clayton Beresford who, if you have a daughter, is wrapped around her little finger. He’s the type of dad who will attend tea parties, help with ballet practice, and learn how to braid hair just to make her happy;

"Hold on, baby, I'm almost finished," he murmured, his voice a soft yet deep rumble as he focused on working his fingers through the strands of your daughter's hair.

"Maybe we should just ask Mommy," she whispered, her small voice carrying a hint of doubt.

"No, no," he shook his head gently, a determined glint in his eye. "We don’t need Mommy for a braid. Daddy can do it just fine."

Clay's fingers moved clumsily but with care, tugging her hair a bit too tightly at times. His brows furrowed in concentration as he carefully looped the strands together.

"But Mommy always likes to help," she insisted, her tone hopeful.

"Daddy likes to help too," he replied, his voice tender but resolute, wanting to prove himself to his little girl.

He paused for a moment, examining his work with a critical eye. The braid was far from perfect—slightly uneven and a little messy, held together by a hairband that seemed to be doing more of the work than the braid itself. But as he looked at it, a small, proud smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

"See? Not so bad, huh?"

Clayton Beresford who is big on teaching his children responsibility from a young age.

Clayton Beresford who made sure to pay attention to your kids after he came back from work. Even if he was extremely tired, he'd rather fall asleep with your baby boy in his arms than leaving you alone to deal with the children

Clayton Beresford who found you as his inspiration. You, with kids most of the time, still having energy to take care of him and the house. So, as soon as he changed his clothes after work, he replaced you in duties so you'd have your alone time.

Clayton Beresford who, if you had a son, played all the games the boy wanted. Like toys where the boy came up with some plot, plastic cars, playgrounds outside;

Clay sat on the floor, carefully stacking blocks into a tall tower while his son sat comfortably on his lap, his tiny hands occasionally reaching out to help—or hinder.

"What do you want to eat?" you asked softly from the kitchen doorway, watching the two with a fond smile.

Clay glanced up at you, a playful gleam in his eye. "You?" he teased, genuinely curious about your preference.

But before he could say more, the boy clumsily knocked over the tower with an excited shove, sending the blocks tumbling in all directions.

“Hey! You just destroyed Daddy’s masterpiece,” Clay said in mock offense, though his voice carried a warm, playful tone. He looked down at him, who was dissolving into giggles, his face scrunched up in pure joy.

"Well, I was thinking pasta... I'm really craving it," you said, your giggles mingling with theirs.

Clay's heart swelled as he watched you enjoy the moment just as much as he was. Turning back to the toddler, he gently poked his son’s side, earning more bubbly laughter from the little boy. “We don’t normally allow such behavior in the tower-building world,” he joked, his tone still light before turning his gaze to you "But pasta sounds good tho.."

With a grin, Clay stood up from the carpeted floor, scooping the boy up by his armpits and swinging him side to side, much to the toddler’s delight. "C'mon, you little silly guy, let's go help Mommy with dinner,"

Clayton Beresford who, no matter what interests or hobbies your kids have, is fully supportive. He’ll invest in lessons, equipment, or anything else they need to pursue their passions, always encouraging them to follow their dreams.

Clayton Beresford who, no matter how busy his life gets, always prioritizes family. He ensures that you and the kids know that you’re his number one priority, making time for family dinners, vacations, and just spending quality time together.

Clayton Beresford who propritazed your time together. His kids were important but you were more important. So, regularly he hired a babysitter (a trusted one), and took you out on dates (or on a vacation but then your parents took care of the children) so you could focus on each other and on the bond you share without screaming kids

Clayton Beresford ho didn't mind making you pregnant again (if you even wanted to be pregnant again);

"Fill this beautiful cunt with my seed once more?" He growled, plunging back into you with a single powerful thrust that made you both cry out in pleasure "you want that love? Be pregnant again?"

TAG LIST: @kingdomhate @ysrjune (sad about her not being her anymore..) @divineani @erosmutt @haydensprettyprincess @mistress-amidala @catnipaddictt @heartscone @haydensbbg @inneedsoffanfics @jediavengers @literally-izzy @anisluvrgirl @fuckmyskywalker @slutforfinnickodair @xhunnybeeex

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

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