#fem clay

[captain-astors]

Sometimes when I'm feeling tired I'll just go wild with one brush making blobs and the smudge tool. I like how it comes out looking very painterly.

[anakinstwinklebunny]

professor anakin x reader was scrumptious can we get a smutty part 2 pretty please? 🥹🤲🏻

Author's note: professor!anakin for you nonnie? ALWAYS

TW: fingering

ANAKIN SKYWALKER was seated at his desk in the dimly lit corner of his study, papers scattered in front of him. His brows were furrowed, pen gliding across the page as he scrawled red ink over careless mistakes from his students.

You, on the other hand, were perched on the plush sofa nearby, twirling your hair and scrolling through your phone. The sight of him so focused, so serious, was a little too tempting to resist.

Also, have you already mentioned you're ovulating?

You stood, padding over to him in your fluffy socks, and leaned against the desk. “You’re working too hard,” you said, pouting slightly.

He didn’t look up, his pen scratching across the page again. “Someone has to, sweetheart.”

You huffed at his lack of attention and slid onto the edge of the desk, crossing your legs so your skirt rode up just enough to draw his eyes, well, at least you hoped it would

Because he just glanced at you briefly, expression not even softening, and he quickly returned to his grading. “Not going to work this time,” he murmured

“Oh, really?” you asked, raising a brow.

Before he could respond, you slid off the desk and onto his lap, straddling him. His breath hitched, the pen in his hand stilling as you settled your weight against him.

“Sweetheart,” he warned, voice low and gravelly, “I have work to do.”

“And I have needs,” you teased, pressing a kiss to his neck. His jaw clenched, and you felt the way his body tensed beneath you.

“Needs?” he echoed, his hands instinctively finding your hips. "What needs?" he gave you everything you needed before..right? All the food was in the fridge, you could do whatever you wanted..

“Mhm.” You trailed your lips along his neck, nibbling lightly at the spot just below his ear that you knew drove him crazy. “I need your attention.”

He exhaled sharply, large hands tightening their grip on you, fingers digging into the soft skin. “You already have all of my attention, whether you realize it or not.”

“Then prove it,” you whispered, kissing along his jawline now. "Because I'm bored, proffesor"

“Then go study,” his tone teasing yet distracted as he returned - tried - to the essay in front of him.

You huffed, leaning forward to grab the pen from his hand. “I don’t want to study. I want you.”

Anakin sighed, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms as he regarded you with mock exasperation. “You know, most students don’t climb into their professor’s lap when they’re bored.”

“Good thing I’m not like most students,” you shot back, a cheeky grin spreading across your face

His eyes would travel all over your face, memorizing and studying your confidence. Or how spoiled he made you that you no longer knew about 'boundaries' “You’re insufferable,” he muttered

You smirked, fingers loosening the bottoms of his shirt “You love it.”

“I love you,” he corrected, his voice softening for a moment. But then his tone turned firm again. “But I really do need to finish these essays.”

You tilted your head, studying him with a pout. “Fine,” you said, your voice dripping with fake resignation. “If you won’t pay attention to me, I’ll just sit here quietly.”

“Thank you,” he said, though the wary look in his eyes betrayed him.

You leaned back, letting your weight settle on his lap, your skirt riding up just enough to expose the tops of your thighs. His gaze flicked down for the briefest second before he forced it back to the paper in his hand.

You stayed true to your word—for about thirty seconds. Then, with deliberate slowness, you began to rock your hips against him, the friction sending a jolt of heat through both of you.

Anakin’s pen slipped, leaving a crooked line of red ink across the page. He groaned, his head falling back against the chair as his hands gripped your hips to still you.

“Sweetheart" voice so deliciously firm.

“Yes, Professor?” you replied innocently, batting your lashes at him and rocking your hips ever so slightly against his lap.

Anakin groaned, his hands coming up to grip your waist as if to hold you in place—or maybe to keep himself from giving in entirely.

“You’re impossible,” he muttered, finally setting the pen down. His hands slid under your skirt, his long fingers brushing the lace of your panties. “If I give you what you want, will you let me work in peace?”

You bit your lip, nodding eagerly.

“Of course you will,” he said dryly, his lips quirking into a smirk as his fingers hooked around the edge of your panties and slid them aside. “Just can’t help yourself, can you?”

“Nope,” you replied breathlessly, your arms looping around his neck as his fingers found their way to your slick heat.

He didn’t waste time teasing you, sliding two fingers inside with practiced ease, the stretch making you gasp. But his attention remained frustratingly divided—his free hand reached for the next essay on the stack, and he picked up the pen like this was just another task to multitask.

“You’re—oh, God—still working?” you gasped, your nails digging into his shoulders as his fingers moved inside you, curling just right.

“Mm-hmm,” he replied, his tone infuriatingly calm. “Unlike someone, I don’t neglect my responsibilities.”

You whimpered, grinding down against his hand as he continued to work you open, the wet sounds of his fingers moving inside you mixing with the scratch of his pen against paper.

“Anakin,” you moaned, hoping to pull his attention back to you.

“Shh,” he murmured, his lips brushing your temple as he wrote another note in the margin of a student’s essay. “Be a good girl and stay quiet. Unless you want the whole class to know how needy you are for your professor.”

The words sent a jolt of heat straight to your core, and you bit down on your lip to stifle a moan as his thumb found your clit, rubbing slow, deliberate circles that made your mind spin

“Good girl,” he praised, his voice low and dripping with approval.

You clung to him, your breaths coming in short, desperate gasps as he brought you closer and closer to the beloved edge. And when you finally tumbled over, your entire body trembling in his lap, he simply smirked and set another graded paper aside.

“Better?” he asked, brushing a strand of hair out of your face as you collapsed against his chest.

“Mmhmm,” you murmured, your voice muffled against his shirt.

“Good,” he said, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Now let me get back to work.”

[c-kiddo]

posting the transfem cad (and jes too but i already do that always anyway) stuff eventually! here's 1 thing so far but im very tired and need to sleep asap

[brunettemarionette]

the only female mechanic series

Gemma sighs as she talks over the phone. "…no, she doesn't have any open appointments for the next few months. I have Tig, Juice, or Opie free?… okay well, I'll book you in with her if anything opens up. Bye." She sighs putting the phone down walking outside.

The guys were all standing watching you bent over the hood of a car, looking into the window, with your overalls on, arms tied around your waist, and a cropped vest. "Does anyone work around here?"

They all scurried away in case you turned and notice them staring.

The matriarch of the club sighs before giving you a once over and staring at your ass until she notices Clay staring at her with a smirk. "Stop staring at the kid's ass while she's working," he says teasingly.

Gemma just smirked, whispering in her husband's ear as he rubbed a hand over his chest, "I will when you do, baby."

[saltcxrcle]

he's a biter! 𖦹 clay. m

cw: implied smut, clay being a biter, fluff; kinda edited, all mistakes are my ownノ pairings: established clay miller x gn!readerノ wc: 484

You never expected Clay Miller to be a biter, but he is. 

It started off subtly at first. When the two of you were slowly becoming more comfortable in your relationship and when you guys went on a picnic date that you had planned. 

He was laying in your lap as your back rested on the thick tree trunk, your free hand carding through his thick hair as the other he was holding to his chest, pressing the occasional kiss to the back of it. But in this case, he let the kiss trail down your fingers, and his mouth lingered. 

Clay couldn’t help himself and nipped at your fingertips like a bird would to show their affection. 

You pulled your hand back from his mouth, and a surprised laugh escaped you. “What was that for?” 

“Just felt like doing it.” Clay sent you a smile, his eyes lidded from your nails scratching at his scalp. 

You pressed your thumb against his smiling lips. “So you’re a biter huh?” 

Clay laughed, grabbing your wrist and pulling your hand away from his mouth. He sat up from your lap, his face getting closer to yours. “Maybe.” He murmured. 

“Maybe?” You parroted back as you leaned closer to him. The scent of pine, amber, and tobacco filled your lungs as you rested your forehead on his. 

“Would you like to find out?” His hazel eyes glittered with desire as his lips ghosted over yours. 

And found out you did once you got back to your apartment. You traced the faint imprints on your skin from his mouth as you looked into your mirror after your shared shower. He came up from behind you, pressing apologetic kisses to the bite marks that littered your skin. 

“M’sorry if I bit too hard.” Clay murmured into your neck. 

“It’s fine, I kinda asked for it.” 

Clay pressed a gentle kiss to the crook of your neck before turning you around his arms. You let your hands rest on his bare chest as he looked down at you with a serious gaze. 

“If it’s too hard, just let me know okay?” 

“I promise.” You reassured Clay, seeing the concern in his eyes. 

“Good.” He murmured before pressing a soft kiss to your lips. 

From then on, Clay would casually bite anything he could reach in the comfort of either of your apartments. They were never too hard, just little nips anywhere he could reach, your fingers, forearm, neck, inner thighs—the only time that they were was when Clay lost himself in you as he chased his release. 

His hips pistoned into you, Clay’s face shoved into your neck, nipping and biting at the skin there, marking you up as his own. You couldn’t help but let out moans at the feeling of his teeth on your skin as sweat coated the two of you. 

Yeah, he was definitely a biter. 

a/n: here's a little clay miller blurb in honor of it being friday the 13th since im still working on my lust for life fic and i wanted to post something for you guys :]

[miffysrkv]

The safehouse is dim again.

Another mission behind you. Another file decrypted, another corpse left bleeding behind some government curtain.

You’re still in your torn undershirt. Ada’s lipstick is smudged. And Leon?

Leon sits on the edge of the couch, legs spread, bloodied gloves off, watching you both like a man barely holding the leash.

“You two think I didn’t see the way you were looking at each other all mission?”

You and Ada glance at each other.

A smirk played on both of your lips

“You gonna punish us?” Ada asks sweetly, already undoing the zipper of her dress

Leon just growls, head tipping back as he leans into the cushions. “On your knees. Now.”

You drop first.

Ada follows beside you, kneeling gracefully on the hardwood like a predator resting before the pounce. You sit thigh to thigh, your shoulder brushing hers as you both reach up at once—hands tugging Leon’s belt open, zipper down, pants shoved low on his hips.

His cock is thick, already flushed, twitching with need.

You glance at Ada.

She smirks. “Ladies first?”

But you both go in at once.

Your tongues meet first—on him. You lick up the underside of his shaft while Ada sucks his tip into her mouth, humming low. You moan into the base of his cock, licking where he’s hottest. Ada bobs her head slowly, one hand pumping him, her other curling in your hair to guide your mouth to his balls.

Together, you worship him.

Leon groans—loud, guttural—his head falling back, a hand tangling in each of your hair. “Fuck. You two—look at you.”

You blink up at him, your mouth wet, tongue tracing his length as Ada slides off with a pop.

“She’s messy,” Ada teases, licking a drop of spit off your lip.

“She’s mine,” Leon growls.

And he grabs his cock—grips it tight—and slaps it against both your tongues.

Once. Twice.

“Open.”

You and Ada open your mouths, side by side. He slides in—deep—into Ada’s first, fucking her throat slowly. Then pulls out and feeds it to you, groaning when your lips seal around him and your throat flexes to take more.

You’re both drooling. Eyes shining. Desperate.

Ada strokes what you can’t reach, whispering in your ear, “You’re so good at this. Look at you, dripping.”

You whimper around Leon’s cock.

He’s shaking above you now, hips starting to thrust, losing control. “Fuck, you two—too good—keep going—”

You and Ada take turns.

Kissing his shaft between your mouths. Sucking his tip together. Cleaning up the mess together.

One team. One target. One goddamn beautiful downfall.

Leon chokes on a breath.

“Where do you want it?” he rasps.

Ada licks her lips. “She earned it.”

He grabs your jaw, cock twitching, and groans through gritted teeth as he cums across your tongue, his load hot, thick, spilling down your throat and over your lips.

You swallow.

Ada leans over. Licks the rest from your chin. Kisses you filthy.

Leon watches, dazed, destroyed. “Jesus fucking Christ.”

You both smile up at him like angels with blood on your hands.

Ada tilts her head. “Again?”

-

Now you lie upside down across a crate. Your back arched, legs over the far edge, head dangling off the side.

Mouth open. Throat exposed. Waiting.

You feel Ada’s fingers slide down your cheek, curling under your jaw to tilt your head just right.

“You look divine like this,” she purrs.

Leon steps between your parted lips.

His boots creak on the concrete floor. You don’t need to see him—you feel him. The heat of him. The tension radiating off him like a live wire.

He brushes the head of his cock along your lips—wet already. Heavy.

“She’s shaking already,” Ada whispers. “Use her. Slowly.”

Leon eases inside your mouth.

Gravity helps. Your throat opens on instinct. You gasp around him, hands grabbing at the sides of the crate for stability as he sinks deep, the angle forcing your muscles to stretch and submit.

Ada strokes your hair as you gag.

“Good girl,” she breathes. “Breathe through your nose. Take what he gives you.”

Leon starts to move.

Short thrusts at first—testing, building—before growing bolder, deeper, until your throat is flush with his cock, spit pouring from the corners of your mouth and down your cheeks.

He groans above you, hand braced on the crate. “Fuck. She’s swallowing me—just like that.”

Ada crouches beside your face now. Watches your lips stretch around Leon’s cock. Watches your lashes flutter as you try not to choke. Watches spit string and fall to the floor.

“She’s crying,” she says gently, fingers swiping a tear from your temple. “So beautiful like this. Ruined just for us.”

Leon thrusts harder now. Controlled. Feral beneath the surface. His hips slap lightly against your lips, cock slamming down your throat in smooth, punishing strokes.

You can’t breathe properly. But you don’t care.

You want to be used like this.

You want to give him everything.

Ada leans in, lips brushing your ear, voice like sin.

“Don’t you dare cum until I tell you to.”

You whimper around Leon’s cock, body shuddering. Your thighs rub together at the other end of the crate—soaked, dripping, desperate. You're not even being touched, but the pressure is unbearable.

“She's twitching,” Ada muses. “You're wrecking her.”

Leon grunts, hips stuttering. He’s close. Again. You feel it—thick, heavy, pulsing on your tongue.

“She gonna take it?” he pants.

Ada kisses your temple. “She’ll take every drop.”

Leon drives deep one final time, hips flush to your lips, cock buried in your throat.

And he cums.

Hot. Sudden. Brutal.

His seed floods your mouth, thick and hot, and you gulp—again and again—refusing to let even a drop spill.

Ada watches you with dark, hungry eyes.

“That’s it. Don’t waste it. Swallow him like you’re starving.”

You do.

Your throat aches. Your mouth is numb. You can barely breathe.

And you’ve never felt more alive.

Leon steps back. His cock slips free from your lips with a slick, messy sound.

You lie there upside down—dripping, wrecked, mouth still open, throat fluttering around the ghost of him.

Ada leans in, gloved fingers dragging gently down your throat.

“You didn’t cum,” she whispers.

You shake your head, dazed, obedient.

Her smile sharpens.

“Good girl. Let’s fix that, shall we?”

She disappears from view—and then, warm fingers slide between your thighs from the other end of the crate.

Finally.

[the-wizard-synonyms]

it's a good day to love women

[nihilitix]

"I´d kiss you goodbye countless times,

even if in your wicked gaze,

I'm just like a dog."

if i knew how to edit videos, i'd do the whole animatic. promise. also one with mlm ivlk. because it also fits

[megzscribbleznwordz]

hhey it's your dog peachypuppypawz. smut prompts 3: numbers 7 and 11 for clay. you agree. ✍️

Me when partner in my inbox :))))))))) @peachypuppypawz

My first time posting my smut online please be niceys to me <3

Word Count: 626

Clay Puppington

Prompts: "finding a somewhat private area at a fancy party to fuck (coat closet, empty office, secluded corner on the big balcony, hedge maze if we wanna get dramatic, etc) "

"Quickie where you don’t take any clothes off, just tug and pull and expose the essentials "

Clay huffs out a shaky, heavy breath as he leads you into his office. The room is dark and empty, having been abandoned for the evening in favor of the festivities going on just beyond the doors. Clay is already unbuckling his belt, closing and locking the door behind himself as he begins loosening the garment. His eyes float over your body as he approaches you, guiding you into resting your palms on his mayoral desk. He mutters a demand to you, too aroused and pent up in the moment to be tactful in his wording.

“Pants…down.” You make quick work of following his directions; Unbuttoning, unzipping, and sliding your pants down before leaning yourself forward on his desk once again. As you do obey his request, Clay begins shimmying his pants down. Not too far down, just enough that he can slide his quickly hardening length out from beneath his boxers. As soon as your pants are down, he presses himself against you. You can feel him shaking with poorly concealed restraint as he slowly teases you with the head of his cock, one of his hands reaching forward and sliding your underwear to the side and out of the way. You shiver in anticipation at his motions. Clay presses the tip of his cock directly against your pussy, beginning to grind and hump himself against you as his hands travel back to your hips.. 

A whine slips past your lips at his motions, the sound sending a chill down Clay’s spine. Unable to restrain himself any longer, he presses himself into your moist, inviting cunt. He lets out a choked moan, unable to hold back his pleasure at the feeling of bottoming out into you. Clay groans as he starts thrusting himself in and out of your hole. 

“Oh god….oh fuck.” He completely loses his hold on his volume, as you start mewling in pleasure beneath him. His fingers dig into your hips, pulling your ass back into him as he lets out deep guttural groans. Clay leans forward as he continues snapping his hips, leaning his chest against your back as you both chase your mutual highs.

Your hands grasp at the edge of his desk in front of you, moaning out loud the feeling of him filling you. You can feel his cock hitting that sweet spot deep inside you, causing you to let loose even more sweet sounds. “C-Clay…oh fuck.” Something about the sound of his name on your lips… Clay lets out another groan, one hand remaining on your hip the other tangling itself into your hair. He pulls your hair back, continuing his thrusting as he groans into your ear.

“Say….Say that again.” Clay huffs into your ear. Your pussy clenches around his cock at his fingers grasping at your hair, groaning out his name again. “C…Clay… Ahnn… I’m….I’m close.” Spurred on by your pleased sounds, tugging at your hair again and hissing praises in your ear. “That…that’s a good girl. Go ahead…” At the feeling of his hand in your hair, combined with the hissed out praises you can feel your world crash around you as your pussy starts clenching rapidly around his cock. You cum around his cock as he continues shoving you full of it, letting out one final guttural groan as he fills you with his seed. He rests his chest on your back, leaning on you as you both catch your breath. 

No sounds other than huffing breaths and quiet echoed chatter from the festivities outside the office can be heard. After a few moments of comfortable silence, Clay sits up again, tone shockingly tender as he addresses you. “We should probably… get cleaned up, get back out there…”

[broz0neglitters]

Sorry 'bout Grammy night

John Dory X Ex GF

John Dory gave you everything that you could have wished for. He was so lucky to have met a girl like you. He never wanted to lose you; he would do everything to protect you. But over time, things changed between you both. You noticed how he would overwork his little brothers, boss them around, and spend less time with you. He also would ignore you, but things got bad, leading to your break up at Grammy night, which was hosted by the Classical Trolls.

-This was before Brozone broke up, and you guys soon saw each other again 20+ years later...-

-Grammy's Night-

You wear a lovely dress and even get your hair done when you arrive on the red carpet. You grab John's hands, but he looks back at you. "Be professional, babe," he says, walking away. It really hurt you, but you brush it off. "I'll hold your hands." Bitty B said cutely as you looked down at him. "Aww, thank you, you're so sweet." You said, holding his little hands

As John looks back, seeing you hold baby Branch's hands, he snaps at you, "Y/N, What are you doing holding Bitty B's hands? You should be holding mine." he snaps at you, "But John, he's just a baby anyone could grab him and plus he was kind enough to hold my hands unlike you." You said to him, "Whatever, hold my hand and act like we're in love." he said, smiling at the camera

As you held his hands, you wanted to cry as the camera flashed, and you put on a fake smile. As you two post for the camera, you both try your best to smile. "Can we get some with just the Brozone brothers?" the photographer said as John pushed you aside and grabbed all his brothers closer to him.

"You did not need to push your girlfriend like that. You could have told her to move aside nicely." spruce said, giving John the death stare. "Pfft, whatever she was getting in the way anyways, now smile, bros," he said

As you saw the brothers taking pictures, you cried at the Grammy. As the brothers were done, you quickly wiped your tears. "were you crying?" floyd asked. "What- No, it was just my lashes itching," you lied to him. "oh okay, I can never get with lashes," he said to himself

"Come on, bros, let's talk to the press." John said as you kept walking behind them, "Y/n, you don't have to keep letting John treat you this way. I know how you feel; I want to be taken seriously, too." Clay said, "I appreciate your help, but I should keep my mouth shut." You said you were afraid of speaking up against John because you know what he could do to you and you didn't want to ruin his Grammy night with his bro

As you pick Bitty B up so he doesn't get lost, you overhear John talking to the female troll interviewer, so you eavesdrop. "So, John Dory, how does it feel to date a normal troll?" "Ah, you know she's not that important right now. All that matters is that Brozone finally won a Grammy and made our grandma proud." John dory said

You wanted to cry again, but you couldn't cry in front of everyone, especially bitty B...

You all took your seats, still upset at what John Dory said about you, but you didn't let it get to you because you're stronger than this. You would not let some dude, not even your boyfriend, bring you down, especially not at Grammy night.

As they announced the best boy band of the year, John Dory crossed his fingers, hoping they would win. "And the best boy band music goes to..." as there were drum rolls and moments of silence, everyone's heart was racing. You could hear John Dory's heart beating.

"BROZONE WITH THEIR HIT SINGLE PERFECT!" The announcer said as the Brozone brothers cheered and hugged each other while their song Perfect played. You sat there cheering for them despite all the negative energy you received from John Dory the whole time, but again, you didn't care about your boyfriend's poor behavior. You were happy that they won...

As Brozone got on stage to accept their Grammy, John took the mind stand, "This is such an honor to be here making music with my brothers, and I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for my amazing leadership skills and my brothers' hard work we put our hearts into this new late single, and we're so glad that the fans love it." John said As the brothers took a picture with their grammies and got off the stage

After the Grammys, you wanted to congratulate them. You walk up to your boyfriend and try to give him a kiss, but John Dory pushes you out of the way to take more photos when you have enough of his BS. "JOHN DORY, I'VE HAD IT WITH YOUR BEHAVIOR TONIGHT!" You shouted at him as he looked at you. "Baby, what are you talking about are you on your day?" he asked, brushing the situation off

"STOP ACTING LIKE YOU DIDN'T DO ANYTHING WRONG CUZ YOU CLEARLY DID; NOT ONLY YOU TREATED ME BAD THIS TIME I OVERHEARD YOU TELLING SOME TROLL THAT YOU USED ME AND THAT I WAS NOT IMPORTANT, AND NOW YOU PUSH ME AWAY. AM I WORTH NOTHING TO YOU?" You asked, tearing up

Before John could speak, "Just forget, John Dory, we're over. Just so you know, I brought us a promise bracelet, which I will never get a chance to give you. I'm getting my money back." You said, running off crying

You ran off crying with the paparazzi chasing after you while your eyeliner was dripping, and you were a hot mess so, which ended your and John Dory's relationship...

-20 years later-

You haven't heard about Brozone besides their band break up, but you couldn't get a refund on your promise bracelets that you had made for you and John Dory despite you hating for how he had treated you that night, you miss him profoundly, but you can't seem to forgive him at all

You keep saying that you're alright, but every single night, you feel like crying cause every single night, you lock yourself in your room and cry for days. It has been 20 years since the breakup, and you're still crying over it

The breakup messed you up really bad to the point where you refused to date other trolls and trust other males, and you would lock yourself in your rooms for days. You wouldn't eat or drink but just sat there in darkness crying to yourself

As you saw the picture of you and John during the Grammy nights, the picture of you both was revolving in your mind. But then it turns to white. "Guess I'm going Blind," you said to yourself. You felt like crying all over again. You threw the picture across the room, and it cracked and broke as you walked over to see the picture glass shatter.

As you get a red marker and angrily cross out john dory picture and cry to yourself, "FUCK YOU, JOHN DORY, AND WHAT YOU DID TO ME!" You said, crying out of anger.....

-After Band Together-

You were chilling and doing much better when you saw Poppy and a few other friends. "Hey guys, we just returned from saving floyd from the twins!" Poppy said As you saw someone looking very familiar, but you couldn't get your eyes straight as you took a 2nd look "shit, is my ex." you said to yourself. "Wait- you're that girl who dated a biozone; remember John Dory? Why didn't you tell us, girl?" Val said, "I'd rather not talk about the past." You said

As Poppy came over to you, "Hey Y/N, This is bro zone." she said, "Yeah, I know. I happen to date one of them." you said, crossing your arms. "Wait- are you?" Branch said, "Yep, I'm that Bitch that john dory dumped over a Grammy." you growled, glaring at john dory

"Hey, how have you been? It has been 20 years. You still look nice." he said, cutting the subject. "Don't change the subject, asshole. You know what you did on Grammy night." You said

"Oh, so that was the girl you were talking about. How she took care of you when you were little." Poppy said, "Wait- branch, you're bitty B. How can I not remember you?" You said, "Uhh yeah, very long story, maybe some other time." the branch said

"Back to the subject, John, how could you treat me like that? You know what your actions did to me. It made me super depressed and heartbroken." you said

"I tried to text you hoping you could forgive me and all my crimes, but you left me on read but no reply." John said, "It was during the troll escape from Bgergans town. What did you expect John to give you a sigh." You said, "I thought you had got eaten by the bergan when I came back to look for you and my brothers, but no one was there." he said

As you turned your back to him, "Sorry I broke you down, Sorry I tore you down, and I'm also sorry about Grammy night." He said "I was totally in a a different place and Tortured and drifting by I didn't know that I hurted some one that I care about." He added as he put his hand on your shoulder, but you slapped it super hard, which stung his hands

your eyes were rolling back because you refused to listen to John Dory trying to apologize to you because you stopped trusting a single word he said ever since Grammy night and the break up. "Please, Hope I get one more chance, and I desperately Hope you can forgive me for the things I've done." John Dory said on his knees crying and begging for your forgiveness

His brother saw how super pathetic John Dory was to be on his knees 20 years later begging for your forgiveness when he should have been doing it in the first place instead of 20 years later, which was too late...

------------------ I won't be opening requests due to time conflicts with my real life. I also have to tackle two jobs, and they do take time to write, but if you want to ask me any questions, feel free to private message me. I will respond to them :). Hope you all have a great day/night wherever you are <3 Also, Happy Pride Month <3 --------------------- Like + Follow are very much appreciated!

[anakinstwinklebunny]

Author's note: happy BUNNYCEMBER everyone :3

Summary: day before Christmas, kids fast asleep..so what's better way than to make sure you were a good girl this year?

Cinnamon in the air, fire clicking in the ingle

Warm blanket, hot chocolate with extra portion of whipped cream perfectly blending into the Christmas scenery you, Anakin and your twins had put on.

You could hear the faint rustle of Anakin fumbling with the large sack of gifts he insisted on dragging out of the bedroom to make the moment more authentic for the sake if the kids decide to suddenly wake up to see the 'Santa'. When he finally emerged, your giggles started before you could even take in the full scene.

“Stop laughing,” he grumbled, though the crooked grin tugging at his lips said he didn't mean it

But how could you not laugh? ANAKIN SKYWALKER, in a full Santa suit—complete with the fake beard hanging precariously under his jaw—looked like he was on the verge of a cosplay catastrophe. The suit clung too tightly to his broad shoulders, and his tousled hair was already poking out from under the red hat.

“Santa Skywalker, huh?” you teased, watching as he crouched by the tree, carefully arranging the presents. “Shouldn’t you have an elf helping you with all that?”

“Oh, I do,” he quipped, straightening and dusting his hands off. His gaze turned sharp as he stalked toward you, leaving the sack by the fireplace. “But I think my elf’s been a little naughty this year.”

Your laughter bubbled up again as he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you into him. The beard had slipped entirely off his chin, leaving him free to press soft, warm kisses along your neck.

“Have you been a good girl this year?” he murmured against your skin

“Good enough,” you whispered back, though the grin you couldn’t suppress betrayed your innocence.

“Mm, I don’t think so,” hands slipping down to cup your ass through your cozy pajama shorts. “Because a good girl wouldn’t be giggling at Santa like that. A good girl would be sitting on his lap, showing a little respect.”

Your laughter turned breathy as he nipped lightly at your collarbone, his fingers slipping under the hem of your shirt to brush against your skin. “Is that what you want? For me to sit on Santa’s lap?”

His hummed in approval, his lips trailing up to your ear. “That’s exactly what I want.”

Before you could respond, he tugged you toward the couch, pulling you down so you were laying on it. The warm touch of his hands on your thighs as he spread your legs made you forget the ridiculousness of his costume. The way he looked at you—like you were the only gift he’d ever need—had your pulse racing.

“You look so beautiful,” his tone softening “But I think Santa deserves to see a little more of you.”

His hands were everywhere—trailing up your thighs, gripping your hips, sliding over your stomach while his lips captured yours in a deep kiss.

With one swift motion, he pulled your shirt off, leaving you bare to the warmth of his gaze. His eyes swam in the look of the curve of your breasts - as if he was salivating like a dog

“I don’t think I’ve told you enough how fucking good you look tonight,” his gaze dropping to the lacy bralette you’d thrown on earlier. His fingers slipped beneath the band, teasing the soft skin of your breasts. “This? It’s a gift, isn’t it? Wrapped up just for me.” he pulled on a strap and let it go, giving you a light smack from it

You barely managed a breathless, “Maybe"

“I’ll unwrap it,” he said, pulling the fabric down to expose your perky breasts. “Cause what a Santa I'd be if I'd neglect such a present from my favorite girl?”

You gasped as his mouth latched onto your nipple, sucking gently before biting just enough to send a jolt of pleasure through you, letting it run down to pool between your legs

“You laugh at me in that stupid suit, but look at you now,” he rasped “Trembling for me. Always trembling for me.” His lips moved harder, like a starving man in need, leaving marks that you were sure you’d see in the morning.

“Tell me,” he demanded, making sure to pay equal attention to your other breast - because after all, how he could just neglect the other when the two of them are so perfect because they're yours? “Tell me how bad you want me right now.”

“So bad,” you managed, your fingers tangling in his hair as he carried you to the couch.

“Not good enough,” lips kissing your belly till he reached your hips - biting and licking the skin there. His fingers yanked your pajama shorts off, leaving you in those lacy panties he had bought you last year for Christmas. He knelt between your legs, hands sliding up your thighs as he stared down at you like you were a true feast. “Say it like you mean it.”

You swallowed hard, heat pooling in your stomach as his fingers teased the edges of your panties. “I want you, Ani..I nee--.”

“Uh-uh,” he interrupted with another letting go of the material to let it smack against your skin “Santa.”

“just-please-,” you whined, cheeks heating at his words.

“That’s better,” he murmured, dragging the lace down your legs before leaning in, spreading your thighs even more and burying his face between them "oh baby..like a true candy cane" his tongue flicked over your entrance in a way that had your back arching off the couch. “But I don’t think you’re ready for me yet..”

His mouth was magic against you, every flick of his tongue pulling you closer to the edge. His lips teased, sucked, and swirled against your sensitive clit, making you squirm in need. The pressure was unbearable, but not enough to push you over—yet. Your hands gripped the cushions beneath you, your breaths shaky as you whimpered his name, craving more.

“Santa doesn’t deliver until I hear real begging,” Anakin's voice muffled as he sucked gently, then harder, making your legs tremble around his head.

“Ani, please…” you begged, voice barely above a whisper “I need you. Now.”

He pulled back, eyes dark, a smirk playing at glistering his lips. “You sure, baby? You want Santa to stuff you full like one of his toys?”

You could barely form words, nodding desperately, body trembling with. The ache between your legs was nearly unbearable, but you knew he was holding you at the brink, just waiting for the right moment.

“That’s my girl,” Without another word, Anakin shifted, positioning himself above you, and after all the cursing at the thick belt, he entered you, filling you oh, so completely. The stretch of him inside you made you both gasp. His eyes shut, trying not to spill already, before he started to move - slow at first, yet deep, just perfectly enough to build much more pleasure in your body

“Anakin… please…” you gasped, fingers clawing at his back as you tried to pull him closer, needing him so desperately. “Don’t stop. Just go harder.”

He groaned, eyes wild, brows furrowed in this so painful yet so pleasurable, even delicious squeeze of your walls. “You want it like that, huh? You want me to fuck you like an animal? Like Santa's little doe?”

“You’re not gonna be able to walk tomorrow, baby. I’ll make sure of that.” he whimpered “Do you feel how deep I am, sweetheart? No one else could fuck you like this. No one else deserves to.”

His hands were all over you now, gripping your hips, pulling you closer, thrusting into you with a speed and force that had your body shaking beneath him. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, your breath ragged and quick as the pleasure built higher, closer and closer to the edge.

You couldn’t hold back anymore. You needed to let go. “Anakin… I’m close, please…” you whimpered, your body tightening around him, your entire body on the edge of breaking apart.

The pace of his thrusts quickened, his breathing ragged as he pushed you closer to the edge. “You gonna come for me, sweetheart? Gonna let Santa give you the best Christmas present you’ve ever had?”

And with one final thrust, you did, your body convulsing around him as waves of pleasure washed over you. Anakin followed moments later, his groan muffled against your neck as he spilled into you.

“Happy Christmas, love” Anakin muttered, lips brushing against yours

TAG LIST: @kingdomhate @divineani @haydensprettyprincess @skyguys-princess @catnipaddictt @heartscone @haydensbbg @inneedsoffanfics @jediavengers @literally-izzy @anisluvrgirl @slutforfinnickodair @xhunnybeeex @fuckmyskywalker @gallerygourmet @deceptiive @anakinskwkler @bimbo-baggins17 @cookybananas @emotionallybruisedx @diorvalentina @sevinax @throughparisallthroughrome @aniiuv @ritosparty @ninastyless @lily-strnlo @thesassypadawan @awhhayden @sydkneez @anisangeldust @r0b-in

[readerlovr]

For Richer or for Poorer

Pt. 2

Pt.1

This past week has been the hardest I have ever worked. Growing up seeing my dad and brothers work, I always knew was difficult, but doing it yourself is on another level. So I can only imagine what the boss feels. It’s Friday so luckily it’s the last day of the week for us.

Although Mr. Beresford has two meetings today which I have to attend. As I am organizing my planner for next week, I get an email. It’s from one of the companies we have a meeting with saying they can no longer meet at 3, and can only meet after 5. I would normally look skeptical because the normal work day ends at 5, but Mr. Beresford stays in his office long after I leave for the day. Before I send the company a confirmation, I check Mr. Beresford’s agenda and I see that he has a free period between 5:30 and 7. So I gather my notepad and walk my way to Mr. Beresford’s office. Once I’m there, I knock, then crack the door.

“Mr. Beresford, your 3 o’clock rescheduled for a later appointment, so I put you down for 6.”

“Thank you, Ms. Y/l/n.”

I close the door as I go back to my office, and send the company the confirmation for 6. They respond swiftly saying that they will be here at 6. I mentally prepare myself for a long day after the normal work hours.

I wonder if Rachel has any tips on my note taking, so I decide to speed dial 5.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Rachel I was wondering if you have any tips on how to take notes for the meeting. I have been taking notes this past week but Mr. Beresford didn’t seem to need them. But because there is two meetings today, he might need them to recollect the specifics the different meetings.”

“Yeah of course.” She gives me the spill of how she used to take notes, but she says Mr. Beresford did not like the way she took notes, because she wrote it in her own understanding instead of his.

“Okay, because we have another meeting after the one that starts in 15 minutes. And it’s after 5 o’clock, so I definitely need to take notes to the best of my ability. Or his I guess.”

“Get used to that.” She says with a sigh.

“What taking notes? Or staying after 5?”

“Well, both actually.”

“I have to stay after 5, everyday with him?”

“Well, yes. Haven’t you been doing that so far?”

“No, I have been leaving around 5:30.”

“Y/n, no. The assistant stays with the boss until he tells you to leave.”

My father has had assistants but he never kept one long enough for me to see how they were supposed to behave.

“Oh no. Why didn’t he tell me?”

“I don’t know, he probably thought you’d just know given your father has a business.”

“My father did everything on his own.” I say curtly. I hate discussing my family and their success, the reason why I left is to start my own. So when someone brings them up, I try to be tight lipped about them.

“Also, it wasn’t in the job description.”

“It’s not, but it’s commonly preferred.”

I think for a bit. I feel bad that I possibly left Mr. Beresford to do everything alone. I never suspected I was doing anything wrong. Every morning when I entered after giving Mr. Beresford his coffee and breakfast, notes he took from the previous night was sat on my desk.

I look over at the time and see it’s 5 till the meeting.

“Hey Rachel I have to go.”

“Okay, talk to you later.” She says before promptly hanging up.

I grab my notepad and get up to walk down to the conference room. When I get there I notice Mr. Beresford and a couple of our staff is already seated. I quickly take the seat on Mr. Beresford’s left. Once I sit, he looks up from his laptop and smile.

“Mr. Beresford.” I say greeting him.

“Ms. Y/l/n.”

I look around at everyone else engaging in their own conversations. I scoot a bit forward closer to Mr. Beresford.

“Why didn’t you tell me I was supposed to stay after with you everyday?”

“I supposed you knew. And if not you’d figure it out eventually. Plus I’ve been used to-“ he pauses and looks back down at his computer, “working alone.”

Just as I about to ask what he meant the company we are meeting with walked in. Mr. Beresford stood up, which caused me to follow suit. We all greeted each other by shaking hands.

Once everyone was aquatinted and seated, Mr. Beresford walks to the other end of the table with no chair.

“Shall we get started?”

_________________________

I tried to take notes most accurate to Mr. Beresford’s. Mimicking his note taking style from the one he leaves on my desk every night. Based on the meeting details, I could give him the notes at the end of the day so I have enough time to tweak it if I see something unfitting.

It’s now 30 minutes until the 6:00 meeting. We had lunch at 3 since the meeting was pushed back. Although, I like to work better with a snack so I decide to go downstairs to the donut shop to get a donut and a coffee. After I gathered my purse, I knocked on Mr. Beresford’s door.

“Mr. Beresford, I’m going downstairs to get a donut, do you want anything?”

He doesn’t respond. After a minute of waiting, I knock on his door again, then open the door and peek in.

“Mr. Beresford?”

He looks up at me from his computer with a stoic look.

“No thank you. I am not supposed to be eating that stuff.”

I notice he seems a bit down so I don’t push him on it.

“Okay, I’ll be right back.”

I am back within 10 minutes. I finish my coffee before I make it back to my office. As I’m walking back I contemplate either going to my office or Mr. Beresford’s. I decide on Mr. Beresford’s office of course. I knock on the door once again. He doesn’t respond like normally but I decide to turn the knob anyway. As I come in the room uninvited, he looks at me confused.

With my donut in hand I decide to sit in a seat in front of him.

“Hi.” I say before taking a bite of my donut.

“Hi?” He says confused. He continues to look at me confused as of to say, why are you here.

“What?” I question his confused look.

He shakes his head. “Normally people don’t just come in my office and sit down. Just to say hi.”

“Well I’m not normal people. I’m your assistant so I can do that.” I say with a smile.

He smirks a bit before changing his face to serious.

“Look. I know I met you before the job interview. And I gave you a well deserved compliment based on your looks, but our relationship needs to be strictly professional.”

What he said caught me off guard. I wasn’t trying to come onto him. Even though he is insanely good looking. I just wanted to start a conversation given he was so busy this whole week.

“Oh.” I say as I nod and start to get up to leave.

“But-“ he says as he sees me get up. “You can stay. At least until the meeting starts. We can walk down together.”

“Okay.” I say with a small smile. I don’t want to say the wrong thing because I don’t want him to think I am trying to build a relationship that’s not professional.

“So, why don’t you eat donuts? Is it your diet?”

He once again looks down at his computer. I know he was down earlier but I thought he was okay now. Before I was able to apologize for prying he answers.

“Yeah, it’s my diet. I actually haven’t had a donut in 5 years.”

“Really?”

He nods and looks up at me from his computer. I give him a cunning smile and hold up my donut.

“You want a bite?”

“No, I’m okay.” He says chuckling.

“Come on. It’s a bite. What is a bite gonna do?”

He looks at me for a couple seconds before he lightly nods. He motions his fingers for me to bring the donut closer. I stand up to bring it close enough for him to take but instead he bites it straight off the donut. My heart skips a beat with his held eye contact on me. As he pulls away I have to mentally tell myself to act normal. I sit back down trying to shake that hot memory out of my head. I look up to him and he’s still chewing. I wait a couple seconds after he swallows it and I’m met with silence.

“Well?”

He starts smiling. Like a real smile, not a smirk.

“That was really good.”

“See I told you. You just have to trust your smart assistant sometimes.”

He smirks and huffs out a laugh. I check my watch and realize it’s seven till 6.

“Oh, we have to go.”

I stand up and he follows after me down the hall. It’s just us when we enter the conference room.

“Where is everybody?”

“Well the staff isn’t required to stay after 5, so we’re just waiting on the company that we’re meeting with.”

We continue to wait for exactly 7 minutes before Mr. Beresford stands up.

“Where are you going?”

“They’re late. I’m leaving.”

“Wha- leaving? Just like that?”

“Yes, just like that.”

As he moves to walk out the conference room door, the company walks in the door.

“Shall we get this over with?” The man who comes in first says, throwing his coat at the woman who came in after him.

Mr. Beresford looks back at me before turning to the man who spoke.

“Mr. Johnson, we are not going further with this merger.”

“Why not? I put in a lot of money for this deal.” The man named Mr. Johnson says.

“You can keep your deal, and you can keep your money. I’m all about creating jobs for people. I need my partners to be punctual as well as considerate. Because if not, I know you will treat your employees the same way. And so far from what I’ve seen,” he gestures to the woman behind him, “you are not very considerate to your employees.”

I don’t know why, but that whole scene made me have a heartbeat in my core. My mouth is agape. I have never seen anyone respectfully decline a disrespectful person regardless of their money.

“Come on, Ms. Y/l/n.”

I immediately jump up to stand beside him. He puts his hand on my back as he guides me out of the room.

“You can see yourself out.” He says as we past them out the door. Just before we leave, I give a sympathetic look to the woman.

“I’m sorry you had to see that, people like that really get under my skin.”

“Don’t apologize. You did the right thing.”

He looks down at his feet as we continue walking together.

“Could you… come back to my office with me. I like the company.” He asks seemingly nervously. I smile up at him before nodding.

“Sure let me just get the rest of my things.” We reach my office door and he goes inside of his. I gather my purse and previous notes. I stay in my office a bit longer than suspected, checking and responded to thank you emails on Mr. Beresford’s behalf. I’m finished about 10 minutes later and I start to walk to Mr. Beresford’s office. I knock on the door, and there wasn’t an answer like usual.

“Mr. Beresford, it’s me.” Still no answer.

I open the door expecting him to look up at me from his computer, but he wasn’t there. I know he didn’t walk out of his office because I would’ve saw given that my office is right next to his corner office.

“Mr. Beresford?” I ask looking around the office. I notice that his chair is a bit pushed back than normal. I walk over to his chair to see why and immediately my heart drops. He is passed out on the floor behind his desk.

“Oh, shit! Mr. Beresford!” I kneel down to feel his forehead I don’t feel it being warm. I fumble for my purse to grab my cell to call 911.

I tell dispatch what happened and what building and floor were on. They had an ambulance out here in minutes once they found out it was Clay Beresford. When the officers get here, I have Mr. Beresford’s head in my lap so it wouldn’t be on the hard ground. They remove him off of me and put him on a stretcher.

“Be careful with him. I don’t know what happened.” I say with a shaky voice.

One of the officers that is not carrying him turns to me.

“Ma’am, calm down. We know how to deal with a heart transplant patient.”

Once he says that I am stunned.

“A what?”

“4 years ago Clayton Beresford, had a heart transplant from his mother after the whole doctor team tried to murder him. It was on the news for weeks.” He looks at me like the information he gave me was so obvious and everyone else knew about it.

“Wha-“ I can’t even process what he just said. As his assistant why wasn’t I notified of his condition. 10 million questions run in my head but I realize as his assistant I should be with him also. I find the stamina to get up on my shaky legs and follow them to the elevator. Once we get outside I climb in the ambulance after they put Mr. Beresford in it. I stare at Mr. Beresford seemingly lifeless body, and it scares the shit out of me. I grab his hand and hope everything is okay.

Once we get to the hospital, he gets put on an IV. And i have to wait in the waiting room while they check to see what’s wrong with him. I rock in my chair nervously wondering what I’m going to do if he doesn’t make it out of this. He was just starting to become my friend even with him saying he wanted a strictly professional relationship. As I am thinking to myself as Beresford was called. I stood up and walked to the doctor.

“How is he?”

“Mr. Beresford is doing just fine.”

I let out a long relieved sigh.

“He had a small relapse due to his heart transplant.”

“Do you know what caused it?”

“We can’t be sure. With heart transplants, this could be caused by anything. Did he recently have any changes of diet, or exercise?”

I shake my head no, trying to think. Then suddenly it clicks.

“I gave him a bite of my donut. Do you think that what caused this?” I say devastated. I can’t bear a man’s life almost ending because of me.

“I’m sorry, but that’s a very real possibility. It’s the most probable possibility given that everything was fine until tonight.”

I look around and cover my mouth, knowing that I almost killed Mr. Beresford.

“Can I see him?”

“Of course but he’s resting right now. It might be a little while before he wakes up.”

“Okay. Thank you.”

She puts her hand on my should in sympathy and walks me to his room. Once I go in I see him sleeping on the bed with 3 different tubes attached to him. I put my hand over my mouth as I sob looking at him. I did that. I walk over beside his bed and sit in the seat that was there. I grab his hand and wait for him to wake. As I wait, I dosed off to sleep still grabbing his hand.

__________________________

He starts stirring which wakes me up. I squeeze his hand tighter with purpose letting him know that I was here for him. He squeezed it back but his eyes are still closed.

“Mr. Beresford.” I whisper as I stand up to get closer to his face. He hums and opens his eyes. He looks around confused before his eyes land on me, shocked.

“What happened.” He says groggily.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

He shakes his head in confusion.

“Why didn’t you tell me about your heart?” I say before I full on sob right in front of my boss. “It was my fault, I’m so sorry.”

He looks at me confused still.

“I’m so sorry.”

“Hey, take a breath.” He says and he grabs my other hand with his other hand. “What happened?”

“They say you had a relapse because of the donut I gave you. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have pushed you to eat it.”

“Hey. Y/n, I am an adult. You didn’t push me to do anything. I ate it because I wanted to.”

I am too hysterical to realize that was his first time calling me by my first name.

“Do you want me to call anyone?”

He looks into my red, puffy eyes then looks forward.

“I don’t have anyone.” He says softly.

I don’t know what he means by that but he’s gone through enough so I don’t push him on it. It seems like I’m the only one going to be here from him tonight. I start to sit on the bed next to him slowly waiting for any signs of his uncomfortably. He nodded for me to continue to sit, still having both of our hands holding. I look him in the eyes and my eyes start to water again.

He wipes my tears with his fingers.

“Stop it. It wasn’t your fault.” He says as he tugs my hands so I can go closer to him. He pulls me into a hug, which causes me to have to lay on his chest. I carefully avoid the tubes attached to him, not trying to mess him up further.

“I’m going to be okay.”

We stay like this in silence for a couple of minutes.

“I thought you wanted to keep a professional relationship.” I joke through a sad voice.

“Screw that.”

______________________________

That sure took a turn. 😬

[aliennopossumm]

i just think transfem clay is really neat

[saltcxrcle]

best friend's brother ── . ✶ c. miller

summary: you weren't one for clichés, but you ended up falling into one anyway

pairings: clay miller x reader, clay miller x fem!readerノ: wc: 4.4k warnings: set after the events of the movie, no use of 'y/n', falling for your best friends brother trope, slight enemies to lovers, smoking (both reader and clay), mentions of the events of the movie, flangst, shot gunning, some sexual tension, kissing, making out, fluff at the end, kinda edited; all mistakes are my own a/n: RAHH CLAYY MILLER MY LOVE!! my first fic for this final boy (and it certainly won't be the last) also i had to make up a lot of shit for bc we get crumbs of clay's backstory and the timeline of the movie, so is this canon? absolutely not! but that's what fanfiction is for :p so enjoy me writing for a jarpad character that isn't sam winchester <33 clay miller masterlist

GOD THIS WAS SO CLICHE. 

Sitting on the porch with Clay and sharing a cigarette while your heart was beating so fast at how close he was, your shoulders were touching as fingers brushed against one another as you passed the dwindling cigarette between the two of you. You thought that you would be the exception to the rule of falling for your best friend’s older brother. 

You had been best friends with Whitney since you moved to New Jersey when you were four years old, and your mom made your small family of three introduce themselves to their next-door neighbors. 

You remember you hid behind your mom’s leg when the door opened, and a woman with brown hair and kind eyes answered the door. You hadn’t wanted to move from your old house in California. But your dad had found a better job across the country and moved despite your complaints, dismissing you because you were a kid and didn’t know any better. 

But the woman at the front door managed to coax you out from behind your mom when she mentioned that she had made cookies the day before and asked if you wanted one. You lit up at the prospect of getting a sweet treat before dinner that day. The woman introduced herself as Miss Jenny and called for her kids to come and meet the new neighbors while she grabbed a cookie for you. 

You could hear the thundering of footsteps from the open door, and a boy who looked to be around two years older than you and a girl your age came into the doorway. Your parents introduced themselves to them while you stared at the floor, shyness creeping back into your system, and all you wanted to do was dash to your new house. 

But the girl was bright and bubbly and didn’t seem to mind your shyness. 

“Hi! I’m Whitney!” She greeted you cheerfully.

You murmured your name in response, just barely being able to meet her hazel eyes. 

“Here you go sweetie.” Miss Jenny had come back from the kitchen and handed you the cookie on a napkin from behind her kids. 

“Thank you.” You said quietly as you sent her a small smile. 

The boy scowled. “Mom! That was the last cookie!” 

“Clay.” Miss Jenny's tone sounded like your mom’s when you didn’t listen to her. “We can make more later.” She promised him. 

The boy you now knew as Clay looked slightly happier, but his eyebrows were still scrunched as he stared at the cookie in your hands. Clay huffed before ducking back into the house. 

Your lips were pursed. “He can have it if he wants.” You went to hand the cookie back, but Miss Jenny shook her head. 

“It’s fine sweetie, I planned to make some more tomorrow anyway.” 

Whitney looked at your parents. “Is it okay if she could come over and play with me tomorrow?”  

You stared at Whitney in surprise. You hadn’t expected to make a friend this quickly. 

You looked behind you to see your parents nodding. 

“Of course!” Your mom said with a smile. 

From that day on, you and Whitney stuck beside each other like glue. You were the more introverted one out of the two of you, while Whitney was the social butterfly. But she never once left you behind and always tried to get you out of your shell. Whitney was the sun to your moon; the two of you balanced each other perfectly. Meanwhile, you and Clay never seemed to get along with each other. It wasn’t like you did anything to him, but he took you getting the last cookie personally and made it known. 

He was relentless in his teasing of Whitney and you if you were over at their house, which was quite often. And it didn’t stop when you guys grew up, if anything, Clay acted more like a dick when he was a teenager. He went through his “bad boy” phase, as you would like to call it. You heard all about him ditching class, getting a motorcycle, smoking, and going to parties from Whitney as you and your parents helped her with their mom.

Eventually, Clay left your life when you were fifteen and he was seventeen. Your parents took Whitney under their wing, and the two of you grew closer than ever as you supported her while her mom went through her chemo treatments. But you guys slowly drifted apart when you guys got into different colleges. 

Whitney wanted to stay local to help with her mom while you tried to go to school in New York. Although you wanted to stick by Whitney and apply to schools in the state, she encouraged you to apply to your dream schools in New York. You remember the day you left for NYU, which was bittersweet, filled with tears and promises that you’d call often and come back home for the holidays, which you did. 

Your world turned upside down a few years later, and you were finishing your last year of undergrad. Whitney had gone missing, her mom died, and Clay came crashing back into your life. 

You remember the day of Miss Jenny’s funeral and seeing him for the first time in years at the podium, speaking about his mother. You managed to make it to the funeral, letting your professors know about the family emergency and taking the first flight to New Jersey back to your hometown. 

You vaguely remember Whitney telling you about calling Clay and getting into a fight about not helping and being there for their mom. 

You lingered in the cemetery long enough for Clay to approach you. 

“Whitney’s missing.” Clay’s voice was slightly thick with grief as he stared at you hard. 

Your brows furrowed. “What?” 

“Are you kidding? Did you not notice her absence here?” He gestured to the nearly empty graveyard. 

“Of course I did!” You scowled at him. That was all you could think about, but you didn’t want to question him when he was being bombarded with his own family members and receiving condolences from others. 

“When was the last time you talked to her?” 

“I can tell you it was more recent than you had.” You couldn’t help but snark at Clay, crossing your arms over your chest.

Clay glared at you, his jaw clenching in frustration. “When?” 

You sighed. “Right before she hit a dead zone. Whitney told me about the camping trip with her boyfriend and his friends.” 

“And you haven’t checked in on her?” 

“She said she wasn’t going to have service.” You said through gritted teeth. “Besides, I've been a little busy with school.” 

“So school is more important than your missing best friend.” Clay nodded in mock understanding. “Got it.” He flashed you a sarcastic grin before shaking his head, his hair falling in his eyes.

“Oh, fuck you! Says the guy who ran off doing god knows what and refused to come home to help his sister care for their dying mother.” You pointed a finger into his chest. “Do not accuse me of not caring for your family when it's clear you didn’t in the first place.” 

Clay’s eyes flashed with anger as his nostrils flared. He stared down at you with a clenched jaw but said nothing. 

The two of you stared at each other in tense silence. Your eyes took in Clay for the first time since you saw him earlier. If it was possible, he grew even taller since he was seventeen, and he definitely filled out his lanky frame—the broadness of his shoulders wasn’t something you could overlook. Clay’s hair was the longest you’ve ever seen, but his eyes kept the intensity he had since he first laid eyes on you. The hazel color swirled and shifted into a stormy grey like the overcast sky overhead. 

Clay was attractive—you weren’t blind. There were times when you thought he was cute in your youth, but his callous attitude towards you never failed to remind you why you never tried to befriend him. 

“Help me look for her.” Clay whispered into the silent afternoon, breaking the tense atmosphere. 

You closed your eyes as you took a step back, putting a distance between you and Clay. “I can’t.” You murmured, your heart cracking at your admission.

“Why not?” 

“I don’t have time.” 

“What do you mean you don’t have time? Your best friend is missing!” Clay looked at you incredulously. The person that Clay knew would have said yes to him in a heartbeat. 

You could feel the tears that you kept suppressed all day, threatening to spill over. “I’m going back tonight.” 

Clay scoffed. “Back to New York right? To some big fancy school in the big city while Whitney is out there missing? Some best friend you are.” The venom dripped from his voice as he shook his head, disappointed. 

You had no idea that Clay even knew where you were going to school or that he apparently kept tabs on your life. But his remark about going back to school instead of looking for Whitney got under your skin, but you’d never admit to it, never to his face. 

“Fuck you, Clay Miller.” You spit out, fury coating your words. You walked away, shoving at his shoulder with your own. You didn’t want to be there any longer than you had to with Clay. 

About a month later, after graduating, you were back home for the summer, having applied to grad school in New Jersey, and you would stay at your childhood home until you found a job and an apartment. You had gotten a call from an unknown number, which you almost didn’t pick up, but there was a pull in your gut that compelled you to answer. 

The woman on the phone asked for your name, which you confirmed. She called to inform you that Whitney was in the hospital, and you needed to come in and check in on her. 

The phone call was soon over at that point; you quickly grabbed your bag and left the house hastily. You vaguely remember your parents asking where you were in a rush for, spitting out that Whitney was in the hospital and that you’d call them once you saw her in the flesh. 

The drive was short, almost breaking all the traffic laws to get to the hospital as fast as you could. Anxiety twisted at your stomach as you walked through the lobby; your voice was wavering, asking the nurse at the desk about Whitney. 

The nurse had a reassuring smile on her face as she looked up your information, and once you confirmed your identity, she led you to Whitney’s room. 

You practically sobbed in relief at the sight of Whitney, bringing her into a fierce hug as the two of you cried in each other’s arms. You guys had a tight grip on one another as she shoved her head into the crook of your neck. 

You guys only pulled apart until no more tears were running down your faces. You wiped at your face with your jacket as you pulled back and took in Whitney’s appearance. 

She looked a little thinner from the last time you saw her, and you knew Whitney had some cracked ribs and a few other bruises, but other than that, she was fine. But you had a feeling that what she saw or experienced was worse than how she looked right now. You had so many questions fluttering around in your head but kept them to yourself so as to not overwhelm her. 

You went to open your mouth to say something, but before you could, the door opened and cut you off before you could speak. 

Your head snapped to see Clay entering the room. His clothes were covered in dried mud, and Clay’s shirt was stained beyond recognition. Your eyes zeroed in on his face. There was a large gash on his cheekbone that looked to be cleaned since butterfly bandages were covering the wound. 

The two of you locked eyes, his eyes were filled with relief but you could see the lingering fear within his hazel gaze. They flashed with something unfamiliar, but it looked akin to fondness before it was gone. 

“Hey.” You murmured, the corners of your lips twitching slightly. 

Clay swallowed thickly. “Hey.” He responded with a nod of his head, his dirty hair falling in his eyes. Your eyes followed his hand as he brushed it back, noticing how big they were.

You cleared your throat before you turned back to face Whitney. There was a knowing smirk on her face, and you rolled your eyes at her. 

The cold concrete seeped through the thin pajama pants you were wearing as you blew out the smoke from your mouth, the tenseness from your shoulders relaxing as the nicotine flooded your system. Smoke curled around you as moonlight lit the street, and the small porch light you were sitting underneath illuminated the path up your porch as you sat on the steps leading up to your childhood home. 

You glanced at the house right next to yours before taking another drag of your cigarette. 

It had been over a year since Clay found Whitney. That night you came to the hospital, Whitney and Clay filled you in on what happened hours before they made it to the hospital—being kidnapped at Camp Crystal Lake, Clay finding Whitney, and killing the guy that kidnapped her. You were in shock as they recounted the experience, seeing how Clay could barely get through his story without stumbling over them. Your heart broke when he mentioned how he met Jenna and how she was killed. 

They had to spend the night at the hospital for evaluation, and you picked up Jenna the next morning. Clay followed behind you on his motorcycle back to their house. Clay was surprised that the house hadn’t been claimed by the bank, but you explained that your parents helped pay it off, and it was all theirs if they wanted to stay. 

You looked away from the house and back down to the cigarette in your hand. It was on its last legs, so you stamped it out and let it rest on the ashtray that you had brought out before taking out your last one of the pack. 

“You know those things that wreck your lungs?” The familiar timber of Clay’s voice broke the serenity of the late summer night.” 

You huffed, looking at Clay approaching your porch and walking up it. “You’re one to talk Mister ‘I started to smoke in high school’.” 

Clay let out a low chuckle, shaking his head, knowing that you were right. “Yeah, but I stopped a couple of years ago. Besides, I thought you hated smoking.” 

“Things change.” You murmured as you looked up at Clay. “But I only smoke if I’m stressed or really drunk.” You didn’t know why you felt the need to explain, but seeing Clay in grey sweatpants and a tight v-neck shirt was loosening your tongue. 

Fuck, it should be illegal to have shirts that tight. You thought as you saw how Clay's sleeve was snug around his bicep. You swallowed thickly as he sat down next to you, Clay’s scent filling your nose, notes of pine, amber, clean linen, and something that was distinctly him. 

“Right, so I’m assuming that you’re stressed then?” 

“You’d be correct in that assumption.” You grabbed the lighter from beside the ashtray that was in between you and Clay and lit your cigarette, inhaling as you did and letting your lungs feel the slight burn from the process. 

“Can I bum one off of you?” Clay was silently glad that you kept your gaze in front of you, his eyes zeroing in on how your lips wrapped around the filter. 

“Thought you stopped smoking Mr. Paramedic?” You asked with a smirk, blowing the smoke from the side of your mouth as you turned to look at him. 

“I like to indulge from time to time.” Clay couldn’t help but smirk back at you. 

If someone told you that you could hold a conversation with Clay without wanting to strangle him when you were a teen, or better yet, a year ago—you would have laughed straight into their face. 

In the past year, there were bumps in the road after Clay and Whitney came back home. There were a lot of late nights staying up because of nightmares from both of the Miller siblings (whether Clay wanted to admit it or not), and it was clear that they were struggling with them. 

You remembered how Clay’s face twisted when you handed him a business card with your mom’s practice on the front of it. 

“Mom can’t take you as her client because of conflict of interest and whatnot, but she has a few other people that you can be referred to.” You explained after seeing Clay stare hard at the card in his hands. 

“I don’t need-” 

“Nope, you do need it, don't deny it.” You quickly shut down any protests coming from him. 

You saw how much he pretended to be okay, to be strong for his sister, who suffered from nightmares as well. But Whitney was proactive and started therapy after one terrible nightmare that plagued her for days after she had it. 

Ever since the siblings moved back into their childhood home, you were there almost every night to help and comfort Whitney. One night, Whitney was sleeping soundly, but as you were walking back from the bathroom, you passed by Clay’s room and heard murmuring, followed by a quiet shout of Whitney’s name. 

You opened the door to see his head jerking side to side, his eyes shut tight, and tiny no’s falling from his lips. 

You made your way to the edge of his bed. “Wake up! Clay!” You called his name out in a whispered shout as you shook his shoulder. 

Clay’s eyes snapped open, and he woke up with a sharp gasp. He sat up quickly. The blanket that was covering him fell from his chest and pooled around his waist. His eyes were frantic as he looked around his room before they met yours. 

Clay visibly relaxed when he realized that he was at home and rubbed at his face. “Sorry if I woke you up.” His voice was rough and thick with exhaustion as he mumbled his words

You shook your head. “You didn’t.” You replied with a whisper.

You realized that your hand was still on his shoulder—Clay’s bare shoulder. Your eyes flickered down his body, he wasn’t wearing a shirt and you could see his tanned skin being illuminated by the soft glow of the moonlight peaking through his curtains. You almost choked on your breath at the sight of his sculpted body, so you immediately averted your gaze and ripped your hand off of his shoulder. 

You locked eyes with Clay again, and something passed between the two of you. When the Miller’s came back, Clay was still cold towards you but after this night, things changed between you. There was this unspoken tension between you, but a tentative friendship started to develop over the months. 

You remember how he came to you and told you about planning to be a Paramedic and that he had started the process of being trained. Something in your chest warmed when Clay revealed that you were the first person he told. 

“Besides I’m not a paramedic yet.” Clay shook his head. His hair was getting long enough to where he could tuck the wayward strands behind his ears. 

“Right but you'll be one soon." You waved his words off. "It’s my last one.” You told him, waving around the now-lit cigarette. “But I’m feeling generous.” You passed it over to Clay. 

“I’m honored.” Clay joked as he took it from you, his fingers brushing against yours, and the brief contact sent a shiver down your spine. 

You practically had to tear your eyes away from Clay; seeing his lips wrapped around the cigarette and taking a drag was making you feel warm, and you stared out into the street. 

With the friendship that you built with Clay, you learned a lot more about him from him rather than from Whitney. He was witty, kind, caring, and fiercely loyal to the ones he cared about. Somehow, along the way of developing this friendship, you started to fall for him. But I pushed it down because there was no way that Clay wouldn’t see you as more than Whitney’s best friend. 

“I’m sorry.” Clay said after he exhaled the smoke, passing the cig back to you. 

Your eyebrows furrowed before taking a drag. “For what?” You asked, blowing the smoke away from him and tapping the excess ash in the tray. 

“For being a dick to you at the funeral.” 

“Oh.” You were slightly surprised that he even brought it up. You guys hadn’t really rehashed any problems that had occurred before you guys became friends. 

��And for being an asshole to you growing up.” Clay added when you didn’t say anything else. 

You chuckled. “At least you’re owning up to the fact that you were mean to me when we were younger.” The cigarette was a little halfway done, and Clay took it from your outstretched hand. 

Clay huffed a laugh through his nose after he inhaled some of the smoke. “Yeah, well you took the last cookie so we had gotten off on the wrong foot.” 

“I get that." You snickered quietly. The cookies that Clay's mom used to make were delicious. "But you continued to tease me even when we grew up. Especially when we were teens.” You pointed out with a raised brow after you calmed down, looking at Clay with a knowing look. 

He shook his head. “That was because I thought you were pretty and I didn’t want to find my little sister’s best friend pretty.” 

You swallowed hard as you felt your heart start to pound against your chest. “Ah.” your voice was slightly hoarse before you cleared it. “So, you decided to be mean. God, you were such a teenage boy.” You teased as you shook your head. 

Clay laughed. “Yeah, well it's not like I knew how to talk to girls all that well. The ones I really liked at least.” Clay corrected himself when he saw the sharp glance you shot him. 

“Do you still find her pretty?” You asked boldly. 

“Who?” Clay’s eyebrows furrowed, and there was a wrinkle in between them that you wanted to smooth out with your thumb. 

“Your little sister’s best friend?” You bit your bottom lip as you met his gaze, nerves ratting your senses. 

The wrinkle between his brows became more prominent before it smoothed out, and a smirk pulled at his lips. “Yeah, she’s gorgeous now.” 

You couldn’t help but smile at him. “That’s good. You still like her?” 

“Yeah, even after all these years, I don’t think I ever stopped.” Clay leaned in closer to you, his scent getting more potent and more intoxicating, with smoke lingering around the two of you. 

“That’s good to hear.” You murmured in the tiny space that was left between you and Clay. 

“Want to finish this off?” He tapped off the excess ash of the almost-finished cigarette. 

“Sure.” You went to pluck it out of his hand. But he brought it up to his lips instead of taking the last drag of it—the orange glow of the cigarette illuminated the amusement that filled his eyes. You looked at him in confusion. 

Clay extinguished the now-finished cigarette into the ashtray, his mouth and lungs filled with smoke. He took your chin in between his thumb and forefinger and tipped your face up towards him. 

Your mouth parted instinctively as his lips got closer to yours until there was only a sliver of space between the two of you, and you knew what he was trying to do. It had been a while since you shotgunned anything with someone, but doing it with Clay was making a heat pool in your lower belly. 

Clay started to blow a steady stream of smoke into your mouth as you inhaled it, your eyes locked on his increasingly darkening ones, his pupil eclipsing the hazel color of his gaze. Your hands itched to grab his face and pull his lips towards his, but let him shotgun the remnants of your cigarette with you. 

You blew out the smoke once you had inhaled it all, and the two of you were left staring at each other. Clay's fingers on your chin moved to extend and encompass your jaw, and his thumb was resting on your bottom lip. 

Your noses were brushing against each other as your hand hesitantly rested on his clothed thigh.

You blinked up at him, eyelashes practically fluttering against his cheek. “Kiss me.” 

Instead of a response, Clay’s lips descended onto yours, and fireworks sparked behind your eyes as Clay kissed you passionately. His other hand came to rest on your free cheek as you moved closer to him, the hand on his thigh coming to rest on his waist. 

You couldn’t think about anything else but Clay, the flavor of nicotine and mint flooded your taste buds as Clay’s tongue danced with yours. You hadn’t felt like this with anyone else before, the world faded as you lost yourself in the feeling of Clay’s soft lips against yours. It was overwhelming in the best way possible, and you could feel arousal zipping through your body as Clay dominated the kiss. 

The two eventually broke apart, unfortunately needing air that was in your depleted lungs. But you didn’t stray far, resting your foreheads together as you took in sharp breaths together. You opened your eyes to find Clay already looking at you, his gaze filled with adoration and lust. 

“Do you want to go on a date with me?” Clay asked, stroking your cheek with his thumb. 

“Shouldn’t you have asked me that before you kissed me?” You had a teasing smile on your face. But you felt giddy at the idea of Clay taking you out. 

Clay rolled his eyes. “I didn’t hear you complaining about it.” 

You giggled at his words, riding the blissful feeling that flooded your veins from the kiss the two of you shared. “You’re not wrong. But I’d love to.”

Clay sent you a bright smile that filled your stomach with butterflies. “Good.” He murmured before leaning in again and pulling you into a gentle kiss, making you melt into it. 

Yeah, falling for your best friend’s brother was cliche, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.  

[nilfruits-confessions]

clay pool person i realise I'm wrong now, however: why is no one having fun with their/ Clay's gender still </3 where's the Headcannons

THIS IS REAL!!! SHE WOULD NOT BE A CIS PERSON!!!!!!!

[patchworke-den]

butchfem clay terran because i was infected by the brain worm. thanks guys