#clyde logan fanfiction

[brewsterispunkk]

diamonds and stones, part one

pairing: clyde logan x f!reader (no use of y/n)

WC: 9k(!!)

summary: reader returns home & encounters some ghosts from her past.

warnings: 18+! language, mentions of war, amputation.

a/n: it's here!! i hope y'all enjoy this long ass chapter (this is so long its embarrassing LOL). there's some time skipping/flashbacks here so i hope it's not too hard to follow! as always, any feedback is appreciated :)

series masterlist

ONE

The phone had barely rung two times before you answered, thumb punching the accept call button as soon as you glanced at the caller ID. Pulling the phone up to your ear, you looked ahead at the cornfields and the open road in front of you. Your mom’s crackly voice filled your ears.

“Darlin’,” she sighed on the other end. So, she’d gotten your message.You thought to yourself.

Mentally, you kicked yourself for giving her any notice in the first place. You knew she’d try to talk you out of it, like she had successfully done the previous two times you’d tried moving back home.

“You got out, honey.” she’d say. “You got to do what I never did. You went to college, you got your degree, you moved to the city. Don’t throw that away. There ain’t nothin’ for you here.”

You hated that she referred to your hometown like that, the place that raised you: a place to get out of. Sometimes you missed it like you missed a limb.

And after your Gramma’s first stroke it had worked, no matter how guilty you felt for being states away while she recovered. 

It had been a minor stroke, the summer before your junior year of college. Not fatal, or with too many lasting health complications, but it had been enough to scare you. It had been enough to scare you into almost dropping out of college and moving home, but your mother and grandmother had insisted that you go back after she’d begun the road to recovery. 

Of course, that wasn’t the only reason you decided to go back, a small voice in the back of your head whispered.

 Two dark brown eyes danced in your mind's eye; freckles scattered sparsely across tan cheeks, a rumble of a laugh, the crackle of a tape on an old car radio. You dispelled it before you allowed your mind to wander further.

That’s in the past, you  insisted,  chastising that quiet voice trying to bring up old ghosts. 

You wouldn’t let your mind go there again. He left, you reminded yourself, instead resolving to focus on the road in front of you, and the nagging voice of your mother in your ear. 

She sighed your name.

“I told you not to come, honey. This is the whole reason we waited so long to tell you–”

“I’m already on the road, mom.” You interrupted her. “I moved out earlier this week, and I’m already on my way home. No use in trying to change my mind on this when it’s already done.” 

For the first time in what seemed like forever, you were met with radio silence; Your mother was speechless. There’s a beat of silence before she speaks again. Secretly, inside you’re smug. You’ve managed to outsmart her.

“You’re on the road right now?” She asked in that familiar disapproving short tone.

“As we speak,” you shifted, holding the wheel with one hand and slouching in your seat. Your mother sighed again.

“Stop that,” she said, displeasure evident in her voice.

“Stop what, mama? Driving?”

“Stop sounding so smug,” She scolded in that tone that all mothers have perfected, before addressing you by your full name. “This is gonna upset your Gramma. The last thing she wanted was you putin’ your whole life on hold for this.”

“‘For this?’” You asked in disbelief. “Mama, I can’t believe you waited more than a whole month to tell me the cancer was back in the first place! As if it was none of my business!” 

You could practically hear her eye-roll through the phone. 

“Now don’t be ridiculous.” She simpered. “We didn’t wanna upset you is all. And we certainly didn’t want you doin’ something so rash, like this.” 

You rolled your eyes. This woman was impossible. 

“Mom, I’d been considering leaving for a long time. My lease was up, Carla got married. This was just the final nail in the coffin. It was a long time comin’.”

“But you seemed so happy, baby.” she cooed. 

“I don’t care! I deserve to know if my grandma is dying or not, and you have no right to keep it from me!”

You were met with silence. It was your turn to sigh.

“I’m sorry,” she conceded softly. “I shouldn’t have kept it from you. I was just scared of something like this happening. You can’t expect me to believe that this whole thing didn’t cause you to up and move home out of the blue.”

“I know, mama, but it’s the truth.” You paused, before continuing, “I put in my notice weeks ago. I’ve missed home. A lot. The city is…so loud. And there are no mountains near Chicago. The land is so flat, and–”

“I know baby, I know.” You could hear her shuffling around on the other end of the line.

 She was no doubt calling from the landline in the kitchen at the old house. Thinking of it, your heart yearned. You missed it so much.

“It’s just that this was your dream, baby. And I just know your Gramma’s gonna blame herself for you giving that up.”

“Mom, I’m not giving anything up,” you emphasized the last part, trying to get it through her head. “I still have my dreams, Chicago just wasn’t it. It took me a while to realize that, but I have. And I have no idea where I wanna go or what I wanna do next, but I do know that I miss home. I was planning on coming back even before I found out.”

“Alright,” she began, but you wouldn’t let her continue. You needed to get this out. 

“And, that combined with the fact that Gramma’s cancer is back means there’s nothin’ you can do to stop me.”

“Alright,” she sighed on the other line. “I suppose there’s nothin’ I can do about it now. How did you find out in the first place? You never mentioned in that hysterical voicemail you left–”

“I had reason to be hysterical, don’t you think? Findin’ out from Jimmy Logan and all.”

“Jimmy Logan?” she asked in surprise. “Now what were you doin’ talkin’ to him? Did he finally buck up and get a cell phone?”

“Yes, he did,” you chuckled, “Mellie finally convinced him. Anyway, after she helped him get his contacts in order, the first thing he did was give me a ring, saying how sorry he was to hear about Gramma bein’ sick again.”

“But how? I didn’t even tell Jimmy Logan. The only people we told were the ladies in prayer group.”

You laughed.

“Oh, you know how word gets around. Jimmy heard it from Earl at the hardware store, who heard it from Irene, who heard it from her momma, who, if I’m not mistaken, is in your prayer group.”

“Well,” your mother huffed. “I suppose that is how it goes. I’ll tell you one thing, your Gramma will be happy to see you, no matter the circumstance.”

“I know,” you sighed,  glad that the air was at least a little cleared between you. You were still hurt that she’d kept something as important as your Gramma’s illness from you, but you understood where she was coming from. She just wanted what was best for you, wanted you to have everything she didn’t.

“Speaking of them Logans,” your mom said. “Have you told her you’re coming home?”

You laughed into the phone.

“Yes, Mellie knows I’m coming home.” You were surprised that she’d even assumed you hadn’t told the youngest Logan about your returning. She’d kill you if you didn’t.

“Good. I know she’s missed you. Last week while she was doin’ my hair, she told me a girl’s weekend every few months and a phone call just wasn’t cutting it.”

Mellie’s face flashed in your mind, and the feeling of dread at returning home started to dissipate. She had that effect on you; Ever since you met nearly 20 years earlier. You smiled, as your mind drifted back to then.

1995

You’d never imagined coming to a new school would ever be this hard. You’d expected it to be like how you’d seen it happen in TV shows or books or those kids movies you liked so much; Where after a rocky start with school bullies, the new kid fell in with the perfect group of friends and everything was fine. That was what you’d anticipated: The melodrama, the excitement. What you hadn’t expected was the monotony and loneliness.

Entering the third grade in october–two and a half months into the term–was never easy. At least that’s what your grandma had told you, and her being your grandma, you were inclined to believe her. 

“It’s not gonna be easy,” she’d told you. “And kids can be real mean, darlin’. Especially when you’re new and they don’t know you. But, you just show them how kind, and special, and smart, and funny you are, and you won't have no problem fittin’ in.”

And you’d expected it to be that easy. Boy were you wrong.

On your first day at Daniel Boone Elementary, you’d expected to be met with a little wariness (what with being the new kid and all), but had hoped, in the end, to make at least one new friend to tell your mom and grandma about when you got off the bus and went home. Instead, you got the usual strange introduction to the class by your new teacher, and that was that. No kids even came up to talk to you. You ate your PB&J sandwich alone at lunch, and spent recess alone on the swings. 

The following months went by in a similar manner: no new friends in sight. All the girls in your class were either too preoccupied with your hand-me-down clothes to play with you, or too shy to. And the boys wanted nothing to do with the weird new girl with too-knobby knees and too-big teeth because even if you liked the exact same things as them, you were still a girl, which meant you had cooties. 

So, at home you’d drift away and pass your time the only time you knew how: through stories. Whether it be babysitters’ club books or PBS kids documentaries on your grandma’s old box TV, your head was always in the clouds. You’d be cryptic when your grandma or mom would ask about school, and they’d begun to notice. Before the snow came and the world froze over for winter, you’d also begun to explore the property behind your grandma’s house, getting lost in nature as you used to. 

By spring, your grandma was at a standstill. 

The snow was thawing, and after a winter indoors, she was at her wits end. She could recognize a depressive episode when she saw one, and the fact that she was seeing it in you, her eight-year-old granddaughter, made her heart break all the more.

She had been just about ready to call an intervention with the school’s principal and psychologist when it happened. You met the person who would change your life.

You’d met Mellie Logan once before, roughly a month after your arrival in Boone County, when you were still new enough to be considered the least bit interesting at Daniel Boone Elementary. She was a year older than you and about a head shorter, with the same shade of rich brown hair as the older boy you’d recognized her sit with on the bus; Her brother, Jimmy Logan who was a middle schooler, but not the least bit embarrassed to sit by his little sister on the ride home, tugging playfully on her braids. She was in Ms. Granfell’s class down the hall, with whom your class shared a recess and lunch time, along with some of the 6th graders. 

It had been on the bus that you’d had your brief first encounter with Mellie Logan. She and about five other kids got off a few stops before yours, down Elm street, and rather than the fact that she had one older brother, that was about all you knew about the girl, and that was all the thought you’d given to her. 

The encounter was a small one: your backpack had been in the aisle as the kids filed in from the school at the end of a school-day in early November and she’d muttered a quiet “pardon me,” as she passed you to her usual seat at the back of the bus where her brother was already seated, and that was that. You barely knew her.

Now, though, as you sat in the school principal’s office, bright fluorescent lights shining over the deep mahogany desk, you felt that all of that was going to change. Mellie sat beside you, eyebrows knit together obstinately as she stared directly ahead of her at the clock on the opposite wall, frowning.

It read: 1:23. You sighed.

That meant that you were missing library time with the rest of your class while being holed up in here, waiting while the principal made calls to each of your parents that they had to come pick you up and discuss the incident.

Your stomach sunk in annoyance as you crossed your arms and slumped down further into the armchair next to Mellie. 

 Great, now they have even more of a reason to think I’m weird, you thought. That was the last thing you needed. You were already having a hard time fitting in in the first place, with girls like Heather Campbell making faces at you and snickering when it was your turn to answer a question or read aloud to the class. You didn’t need to be known as the weird new girl who’d also gotten into a fight with a sixth grader. 

You groaned in realization that that was exactly what you’d be known as from now on. You ran a hand over your face. And just wait until your mom found out, until your Gramma found out. Your life was over.

At that, Mellie looked over at you, her formerly sour expression turned questioning at your sudden outburst.

“What’s the matter with you?” she asked, moving to sit on her hands. Her legs were swinging back and forth off of the edge of the seat of the chair. She looked more bored than anything else, which was wild to you, considering the insane amount of trouble you both were about to be in the moment your parents walked through that door.

You looked at her like she was insane, her freckled face a picture of nonchalance, and sighed. Your heart was at the pit of your stomach as you watched the small round clock tick by, each second drawing closer to what was bound to be the end of your eight years on this planet.

You hadn’t intended to get involved. You really hadn’t. But when you’d seen the trampled, embarrassed look in his deep brown eyes, you didn’t know what else you could do.

 It was, surprisingly, not in your nature to be confrontational at this point in your life. Though you’d later grow to be quite the headstrong person, the years spent walking around on eggshells with Keith had taken a toll on your personality. You liked to avoid conflict with even your family, nevertheless with the mean fourth graders you’d always hear snickering at people during lunchtime. But when you’d heard them picking on the lanky boy with messy dark hair something within you had snapped.

It was breakfast for lunch day, aka: the best day of the week, and when the bell rang  signaling the beginning of lunchtime you moved as fast as your legs could carry you to the cafeteria.

You stepped into the line behind a tall, lanky boy who had to be at least a few years older than you. You recognized him from your bus; He lived on the same street as Mellie and her brother, and like you, always sat by himself on the bus. You thought that he was probably the only kid who was as quiet as you. In fact, you weren’t sure you’d ever even heard the stoic boy utter a word in the month and a half you’d spent riding home with him. His face always seemed to stay the same too, you’d noticed. 

Not that you’d been watching him, you corrected yourself.

Right now, though, the boy smiled at you as you came up behind him. A tight-lipped, shy one at that, but his dark eyes shone with genuine kindness that you were almost too flustered to know what to do. Such kindness, even small ones like this, had been few and far between in your time in Boone County. It’d been lonely, and this little boy’s smile made it feel a little less so. A part of you wondered if this town had been similarly lonely for him too. You smiled back.

The sound of giggling broke you from your blatant staring at the boy in front of you. Two girls had entered the line behind you. You didn’t know their names, but you recognized them from the time you had spent people-watching during your month or so of eating alone. The taller one was blonde, with long straight hair and thick braces covering her teeth as she smiled right past you and to the boy standing in front of you. Her counterpart was shorter and a bit stouter, with short pin-curls that practically stuck to her hair. Your stomach dropped as you took in the looks on both of their faces. Their smiles were anything but kind as they looked right through and onto the boy who was oblivious to what was coming.

You weren’t though. Just last week, you’d seen the pair of girls push a little girl in your class off of the monkey bars for “taking their spot,” when you knew for a fact that that girl had been there for all of recess already. Before that, you’d seen them ridicule another girl for her new haircut that had come out much shorter than expected until she cried. These were two girls you knew not to cross, and here they were, sights set on the boy in front of you whose name you didn't even know. And you were caught in the middle of it. 

“Uhm, excuse me?” The blonde girl asked, reaching across you and tapping the boy on the shoulder. Her face was twisted in barely held-in laughter, while beside her, her friend’s face held an identical.

The boy turned, eyes wide and curious. Kind. Unaware of exactly how nasty these two could be. 

“Y-yeah?” He asked, voice cracking when he stuttered. The blonde looked over to her friend and then back at him.

“Your name’s Clyde, right?” She asked, head tilting.

“Uhm, yeah, tha’s right.” He smiled, bashful. Ears twinged red.

Clyde. That was the boy’s name. It fit him, you thought. 

Her friend popped in. “Say, ain’t you a Logan?” She asked, face spread in what seemed like a kind smile. 

Something you didn’t buy. You thought as you grabbed an orange from the selection of fruit.

“Yes ma’am,” he said, moving down the line. He picked up a strawberry milk carton before moving further down where the french toast sticks were. You continued to eavesdrop, feeling the most awkward you had in a while as the conversation continued with you, quite literally, in the middle of it.

“Well, Clyde Logan,” the blonde continued, reaching for an identical carton of strawberry milk. Her face was smug. “There’s something Quinn and I have been meaning to ask you for a while now.”

“What’s that?” he asked, curious. He looked at her, eyes open and welcoming and you dreaded the next words that were going to come out of her mouth. It wasn’t gonna be good.

“We were just wondering,” she snorted halfway through, hand coming to her mouth. “Sorry, we were just wondering if you’d done something to upset your momma?”

He chuckled awkwardly, obviously confused, and flicked some dark hair behind his ear. “Pardon me?” he asked, brows furrowed.

“Oh, nothin’. It’s just you had to have done something to have earned a haircut like that.”

Beside her, her friend had given up on controlling her laughter. Wheezing, her friend–Quinn–interjected.

“Or maybe your hairdresser hates you? What did you do to make someone let you walk out of the house like that?” She giggled.

“Don’t be silly, Quinn. The Logans can’t afford a hairdresser. It had to have been his momma. I mean, really Clyde, you had to have done somethin’ bad.” The blonde chimed in again.

“Although, maybe it’s not the haircut, Heather.” Quinn piped in casually, serving herself french toast. “That’s not fair to his momma. It’s those ears. They stick out like a sore thumb.”

“Mhm,” the blonde, heather, nodded. “I think you’re right. And his nose. It's so big. That’s what makes you so unfortunate looking. Not the hair at all.”

Clyde looked like a deer caught in the headlights. Surprise coloring his features, the smallest frown upon his lips.

“Or , you know what,” Heather considered, piling bacon onto her lunch tray. “It’s probably that curse your sister wouldn’t shut up about last year. What’d she call it?”

“The Logan Family Curse.” Quinn chimed in. Heather laughed. 

“That must be it!” She giggled in that snotty, preteen way. “Who knew that the Logan family curse was being cursed with bein’ uglier than a mud fence!”

“Or having ears the size of Dumbo’s.” 

Looking over at Clyde, you saw his eyes glassy with unshed tears as he looked down at his lunch tray. Crestfallen. It sent white hot anger surging through your chest, and before you could register it, you were turning to face the two girls beside you in line.

“Just because he has straight teeth and you don’t doesn’t mean you have to be mean.” You glared at her. Her smug face morphed into one of anger as her eyes hardened into a glare.

“Excuse me?” she asked. Beside her, Quinn’s eyebrows rose to her hairline.

“You heard me, brace-face.” You stood your ground, glaring right back at her. She gasped at the insult, not ready for a taste of her own medicine. An identical look of horror crossed her companion’s face. From behind you, you heard a familiar high voice call out.

“Clyde? Where are you–” Mellie looked confused, her eyes following the lanky, dark-haired figure racing out of the cafeteria, leaving his lunch tray deserted in line next to you. Her gaze hardened as she looked over at you and the two girls in line. She stomped over, arms crossed.

“What did you say to him?” She demanded, looking between you three. When no one spoke up, she asked again, louder.

“What did you say to my brother?” She seethed. Heather looked at Quinn, an amused smirk on her face. 

“Oh, you mean Dumbo?” She asked.

“Nothing–we just gave him some beauty advice,” Quinn descended into the same annoying laughter as her friend. 

What happened next was a blur to you. There was a hand in someone’s hair, another pushing someone's shoulder, and the sound of a hand smacking against someone’s face. You were pushed backwards–by who, you didn’t know–and your half-full lunch tray came down on top of you, covering you in scrambled eggs and syrup. Heather screeched like a banshee, and Quinn started crying. A lunch monitor ran over to break it up, and before you knew it, Heather was being sent to the nurse and you and Mellie to the principal’s office. 

Which brings you to now.

You sat, smelling of eggs and syrup, and waiting for your life to end. After a few minutes of silence, you looked to the scrappy, brooding girl next to you. 

“Did you have to hit her?” You asked, breaking the silence. Scoffing, she turned to look at you. 

“Uhm, yeah I had to hit her.” She spat out incredulously. “She was makin’ fun of my big brother. You don’t let people mess around with your kin.” 

“But–” you began before she interrupted you, seemingly not hearing you at all. That was something you’d grow to find out was a habit of hers whenever she talked about something she was passionate about. 

“And I’d do it again, too,” she said, stubbornly. “I don’t care what Mrs. Findlay says. If you ask me, Heather Campbell had it comin’ and needed to be knocked down a few pegs. I’m only sad I got caught.”

Her matter-of-fact made you giggle a little bit. After all, you couldn’t disagree with her; You’d seen Heather and Quinn unleash their wrath before. Many times in the short time you’d been in town. They needed to be put in their place. And you were glad you’d had at least a small part in doing it, even if it did put a target on your back and was bound to make your life hell indefinitely. 

“I am sorry you got involved, though,” Mellie said. “It ain’t fair you got roped into all a’ my trouble-makin’.” 

You chuckled a bit.

“Nah,” you sighed. “Before you walked up, I did say some pretty nasty things to them. I guess I deserved it.”

Mellie, looking surprised at that, snorted.

 “You?” she asked, eyes wide in apparent disbelief. “You said somethin’ to Heather Campbell?”

“What's that supposed to mean?” you asked, brows furrowed. “And yes, I’ll have you know, I did say something to her.”

“Nothin’.”  Mellie said, “it’s just that in all the time you’ve been here, I ain't heard you speak but about two times.”

“I couldn’t let her talk to him like that when he didn’t do nothin’ to deserve it.” You said. “Besides, I was tired of hearin’ her run her mouth all the time and no one sayin’ anything.”

“Well alrighty then.” She said.

 A beat of silence passed, the only sound being the ticking of the clock. Then, “what did you say to her?”

You snorted. 

“I called her brace-face.” You admitted sheepishly. Beside you, Mellie howled in laughter and after a moment, you joined her.

“You know,” she said pensively, smiling at you, all trace of a sour mood gone, “I think we’re gonna be good friends.”

You smiled back at her, the first real one in a while. 

“Me too.” And you meant it. 

Present Day

Your mother’s voice snapped you back to reality. 

“And what about him?” she asked carefully, words thick with meaning. “Does he know you’re comin’ back?”

You sighed. “Mama, why would he know I’m coming back? Why would he care that I’m coming back?”

“Darlin’, I didn’t mean it like that–”

“He didn’t bother telling me when he came back. I had to find out from Mellie, a month after the fact.” You continued, that familiar white-hot feeling in your chest resurfacing. “Besides, I’m sure Mellie mentioned it to him. She’d have to if he’s gonna continue this disappearing act of his.”

“That’s not fair, baby, and you know it.” She scolded, ever the mother. It didn’t matter that you were twenty-five, she’d always put you in your place when it came down to it. “He’s been through a lot.”

“I’m sure he has,” you agreed half-heartedly. 

“And–”

“--Not that I’d know about it! He hasn’t spoken so much as a word to me in years. Not for lack of trying on my part either, you know that mom.”

“I know, baby, I know,” she said. This was a conversation you’d had before. And no matter how many times you did, she’d always brought up the same points. 

And now, Clyde Logan had been home for more than two years, but felt like a ghost. Your family hadn’t heard a thing from him. According to your cousin Zach, Jimmy had wanted to throw a coming-home party for him, but had canceled it last minute. You didn’t know what he was doing now.

You knew better than to ask Mellie about it. She was your best friend, yes, but you wouldn’t put her in that position. You wouldn’t make her choose sides or play middle-man between you and her brother. And she knew better than to bring it up with you, too. She saw her brother’s idiocy, and, more importantly, she saw how hurt you were after all that had happened. 

So, Clyde generally wasn’t brought up between the two of you. Not in great detail, anyway. No matter how much you knew she had to reign herself in over it. Your best friend was a fixer at heart, and that instinct didn’t go away when it came to her best friend and her brother. 

“Let’s just drop it, mom.” You said. “I am not coming home for Clyde Logan, of all people. I’m just happy to be coming home at all.” 

“Well, that makes two of us.” she laughed lightly on the other end. “How far out are you?” she asked.

“I’m about halfway through Indiana right now.”

“Whew,” she whistled. “What a drive.”

You laughed at her sarcasm. “Oh yeah, nothin’ but cornfields for miles. That  is somethin’ I won’t be missing, that’s for sure.”

“Good.” she said, “You’d better get a move-on if you wanna be home before dinner, then. I’ll call your cousins and see who can make it.”

Your heart leapt at the thought of it, seeing the family again. You’d missed living in the same county as them all; Not having to drive hours to hug your grandma, to hear your aunt Nikki’s laugh, or to engage in yet another political conversation with your uncle Mike. 

“That sounds perfect.”

“Alright then. Your Gramma’s gonna be surprised, that’s for sure. And i’m warnin’ you now: She will not be as easily swayed as I am at your comin’ back.”

“Yeah, I know.” You shook your head. “I’ll start preparing my speech now.”

“You better!” She laughed, “I’m gonna let you go, babe. Call your aunts. Love you.”

“Love you too, momma.” You sighed, as the call ended. 

The late May sun shone through the clouds, as you steered off of the freeway to continue south. Toward home. 

- - 

It was well past seven in the evening before everyone left your grandmother’s house—and, I guess, your house too, for now—for dinner. 

It had worked: you’d made it home, finally, and even though your grandmother wasn’t happy with you for returning, she understood why. It’d been too long since you’d been home for more than a week or two. Even longer, if you didn’t count the summers you’d come home during college. 

After Clyde had left for his third tour, things weren’t the same. You always hosted holidays after that, or visited your extended family in Charleston. You’d missed your hometown, yes. But the pain you felt at how you and Clyde left things hurt you more. Only now, after six months of therapy and the terrifying possibility that your grandmother was dying, did you feel even remotely comfortable enough to come back. 

Now, after a long, loud meal with your extended family, you wondered why you’d left at all. The anxiety you’d felt driving into the county limits earlier that evening had dissipated. Home has a funny way of doing that: letting you ease right back in like you’d never left. 

Your cousins were getting bigger—now nearly teenagers—and your aunts inquired about your personal life over dinner. Now, after the coffee had gone cold and your last relative had gone home, you helped your grandmother with the dishes—much to her chagrin. 

Your grandmother was a kind woman, a gentle woman, but she was also a proud woman, and more stubborn than even you.

“Just because I’m sick doesn’t mean I’m inept, you know,” she slapped your hand away from where it had tried to venture into the soapy water of the sink. 

You sighed. So she’s still mad. 

“I know, Gramma,” you offered. “Just trying to help.”

She grumbled back, still focusing on scrubbing the plate in front of her. 

You gave up, moving instead to dry and put away the dishes she’d washed. As you began, she didn’t so much as spare you a glance, just hummed under her breath. 

The kitchen looked untouched from it had been growing up—the linoleum counters, tiled walls, and deep wood of the cabinets perpetually stuck in the 1970s. Some of the glassware your grandmother owned was from the seventies, or even before then, going back to when your mom and uncles were kids. You could tell from old family pictures that the house had changed little since they bought it in 1969. Even after so many years, your Gramma had refused to invest in a dishwasher, insisting on washing dishes by hand instead. 

You took a ceramic plate from the drying rack, toweling it off before opening the cabinet to put it away. The cabinet door had the same creak it always did. 

“You know,” you tossed over your shoulder at your grandmother. “I was planning on coming back for a while before I heard about the cancer.” 

“That’s what you keep sayin’,” she mumbled. “I can see right through ya, though, darlin’. You think I haven’t noticed you haven’t been home in years?” 

You bit your lip, trying to ignore the pang of guilt her words sent through you. 

“I’m sorry about that, Gramma, I am—“

“Oh, hush,” she waved a suds-covered hand at you, still not turning around. “Long as I get to see you, I don’t care where it is. What I’m trying to say is: you certainly would not have come home had it not been for my diagnosis.” 

You deflated a little; in a sense, she was right. You’d been considering returning before, that was true, but part of you deep down knew you wouldn’t have been successful if you hadn’t heard about her sickness. 

“What I can’t live with is you giving up your dreams for an old woman like me.”

You scoffed at that, coming up behind her and wrapping your arms around her shoulders. 

“Please,” you mumbled into the hug. “You couldn’t have kept me away. I would’ve found out at some point.” 

She sighed, hugging you back and leaning into you. 

“‘Suppose you’re right,” she acquiesced. “Doesn’t mean I’ve gotta be happy about it though.” 

“That’s fair,” you chuckled, letting go and taking another plate from the drying rack. “But you can’t get mad at me. It should be me angry at you for keeping it from me for as long as you did.”

She turned to you then, wiping her wet hands off with a towel. There was a strange look in her eyes as she took you in, eyeing you head to toe. She snapped out of it after a moment and offered you a smile. 

“Hm,” she hummed, bringing a weathered hand to cup your cheek. “I couldn’t stay angry at you even if I tried.”

You smiled cheekily at her. 

“I know.”

“Hm,” she chuckled, pinching your cheek lightly and patting it. “Now let me finish these up. Mellie’ll be here soon and you haven’t even taken your suitcase up yet.”

You nodded and put the last plate away. 

“I’ll turn the radio on for you,” you smiled. “It’s too quiet around here.”

“Alright sugar,” she tossed over her shoulder. “You won’t be sayin’ that come Monday. I’ve got your cousins after school most weekdays. And I thought you were a handful.” 

You chuckled. 

One thing about your family was true: none of you were boring—especially the little ones. They kept your grandmother on her toes. 

“I’m looking forward to that,” you chuckled. That was another thing you regretted about moving so far away: not being there to watch your little cousins grow up.

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” she said. “You might be reconsidering moving back after a few days.”

“Unlikely,” you snorted. “I’m hard to scare off. Well, now anyway.”

Your grandmother sent you a sympathetic smile then, and you knew she’d forgiven you. You twitched a little under her gaze. She almost looked like she pitied you. You understood if she did; she was the one to bear the brunt of your heartache when everything between you and Clyde had blown up. Still, it wasn’t a time you liked to dwell on. 

“So, you think you’re finally over that Logan boy?” She asked, crossing her arms and facing you.

You sighed; it was just like your grandmother to not mince words or beat around the bush.

“Jesus, Gramma,” you raked a hand over your face. 

“What?” she asked defensively. “Would you rather me tip-toe around you like everyone else? Your mama won’t ask, and you’ve banned Mellie from mentioning that boy.”

“So you thought you’d…” your words trailed off, not understanding exactly why she was bringing this up now. 

“I thought I’d mention the elephant in the room. Call it curiosity, sugar,” she smirked at you. “I just figured that since he was the one that kept you away for so long—”

“Gramma, you know he’s not the only reason l left—”

“I know, I know,” she held up a hand to stop you. “But I remember how you were when you left. In the months before. Barely leaving the house, not talking to anyone. Whatever he did, it did a number on you. I don’t want you getting like that again—”

You softened. She was worried about you, of course she was. Your grandmother was nothing if not a mama bear. 

“Trust me, Gramma. You do not have to worry Clyde Logan of all people. I’ve been over it for a while, I think. I’ll be okay.”

“Hm,” she scrutinized you through narrowed eyes, before nodding. “Alright. I won’t bring it up again.”

“Thanks, Gramma.”

“You ever gonna tell me all that happened with him?” 

“Maybe one day,” you smiled at her sadly. 

She nodded at you in understanding. 

“Alright, babydoll. You go get ready.”

As you walked up the familiar steps to your childhood bedroom, listening to Patsy Cline drift through the old kitchen radio, you smiled to yourself at the familiarity of it all.

- - 

“Trust me,” Camila grabbed your shoulder from the back of Mellie’s ‘85 silverado—her pride and joy and newest fixer upper. “This place is great, and it helps that we don’t have to drive all the way to Madison like we did back in the day.”

You snorted at how your friends were trying to sell you on this new dive bar. Where you’d wanted to go out in Madison like the old days, they’d insisted you stay local tonight.

You shifted in the denim cut-offs that Mellie had insisted you wear. You hadn’t worn them out since your senior year of college. Hell, you hadn’t been out since your senior year of college.

She’d showed up at your door at exactly eight o’clock on the dot, intent on getting you dolled up for a night out. Camila and Gwen, two of your best friends from high school, had shown up soon after. It was like old times—playing your old CDs, the smell of cheap perfume and hair-straighteners flooding your childhood bedroom. You couldn’t even bring yourself to be nervous about going out. Now, two hours later with a new outfit and your hair and makeup done to perfection, you were off to check out the newest haunt in town. 

It’d been big news when the place had opened about nine months ago. It wasn’t every day that a new business opened in Logan, so obviously it was the talk of the town. Even you’d heard about it all the way in Chicago. Duck Tape was its name and it had been renovated into a bar from an old bait and tackle shop. And apparently, since its opening, it’d become a staple of your small community. You’d been promised that you’d run into at least five people from high school here, maybe more. It was also in the middle of nowhere. 

“We’re basically driving the same distance, Cami.” You laughed. From beside you in the driver’s seat, Mellie smirked. 

“Don’t rain on her parade.” She teased. “Cami’s just trying to explain away the real reason why she came here: she’s got it bad for the bouncer.”

Camila gasped and smacked Mellie’s shoulder. 

“That isn’t it at all, Mellie Logan and you know it!”

“Mmhm,” Gwen nodded from the other side of her, very obviously not buying any of it. “It has nothing to do with the six-feet, tall, dark, and handsome bouncer. I believe you, Cami.”

You laughed at her sarcasm. 

“I don’t know why you don’t put yourself out of your misery and just get his number,” Mellie asks from the front seat, looking at Cami through the rearview mirror. 

“And risk rejection? Not a chance.”

You snorted at that, understanding completely. You’d had a few non-serious relationships here and there, but nothing that had stuck during your time in Chicago. And even then, they were alway the ones who had to make the first move. 

“Wait, wait, wait,” you interrupted. “Since when do any of these places need bouncers?”

When you were in high school, it was a given that no one underage would even try to get into a bar in Logan. It would have been pointless: everybody knew everybody here, so even if you had the good sense to get a fake ID, you’d be at the sheriff’s station before you had time to order your first drink.

“Since these kids are gettin’ more and more ballsy,” Gwen answered you. “‘Bout a year ago coach Garrison’s kid got busted for drinking underage at Tulman’s. Ever since, they’ve been IDing at the door.”

Tulman’s was the other bar in town, nestled in the heart of downtown. 

“I bet coach was pissed.”

“You have no idea,” Cami nodded, picking at her manicured nail. “Gave hell to the guy who owns the place. That’s just another reason why I like Duck Tape better.”

Gwen groaned from beside her. Mellie just laughed. 

Mellie sighed beside you, reaching for the gear-shift. “Just ask him out. You miss a hundred percent of the shots you don’t take.”

“Oh please,” Cami laughed, speaking up over the sound of Garth Brooks’ voice coming from the speakers. “Stick to hairdressing, Mel. You’d make a shit motivational speaker.” 

A chorus of laughs sounded as Mellie took a sharp turn off of the highway and onto the mountain road where the bar was. 

This was so familiar: you and your girlfriends, all dressed up and piling into one car to go out as if you were somewhere glamorous like New York City and not in Boone County, West Virginia. The chatter of the girls around you was comforting, and you relished in it. 

This, you thought. This is home.

- - 

You dropped your glass when he walked in, brushing past the bouncer with a large hand on his shoulder. Your stomach dropped.

The glass shattered at your feet, sending cranberry juice and vodka splattering over your boots and calves. A few people surrounding you jumped as well, moving away from the shattered glass on the floor. Beside you, Camila started. 

“Jesus,” she cried, grabbing your bare shoulder and looking at you. She was trying to get your attention, you knew, but you couldn’t bring your eyes away from the imposing figure of Clyde Logan, who just walked into the bar. “You okay? What—shit.”

She saw him too. 

“Mellie,” you heard her whisper, trying to get the attention of your friend who was too-busy flirting with a man in a stetson beside you. Gwen was in the bathroom. “Mellie.” 

He was tall—just as tall as he’d always been, but even more imposing. His shoulders stretched broadly across the dark blue button-up he had on. He wore worn blue jeans and work boots and still had that stiff, ramrod-straight posture that he’d come back from basic training with. You blinked. 

He was here. He was here. 

Even after years, he had an effect on you. You felt stuck to the floor, frozen in place as he made his way to the bar, his left side facing away from you. His dark hair was longer than you’d ever seen it, curling around his ears and down his neck thickly. You couldn’t tell much from the dim-lighting, but you could detect a bit of a stubble along his jaw and above his lip. 

Lord have mercy, he was beautiful. 

He was gorgeous–even more so than you remembered him. It made your chest ache.

“What?” Mellie turned to Cami, a flirty laugh in her voice.

“Look.”

There was a beat of silence before she spoke. 

“Fuck.” Mellie spat. “Fuck, fuck, fuck. He said he wasn’t working tonight.”

You breathed in a ragged breath, everything feeling all of a sudden too much. The neon lights, the chatter of people from all sides of you invaded your senses. The early summer heat was cloying at your skin in the crowded bar. You felt boxed in on all sides. 

“I’m just going to,” you mumbled, finally tearing your eyes away from Clyde, who was talking to the man behind the bar. You didn’t finish the sentence, instead electing to train your gaze on your boots and try to make your way to the bar door. 

Behind you, you heard Mellie call your name. You ignored her, breathing deeply as you tried to navigate your way to the door. 

Air, you told yourself. I need some air. Then I’ll be fine. 

You tried to push yourself past a particularly large group, squeezing between two peoples’ backs. One of them moved backwards, their foot moving to step in front of yours.

Your boot caught on the foot, and you tumbled forward, losing your balance. 

You tripped, scrambling, reaching out with your arms to break your fall as you tumbled.

Only, instead of continuing to fall to the ground, you stumbled into something. Or rather, someone. 

Your hands landed on a broad chest, and you felt an arm snake its way around your middle, attempting to steady you. You let out a breath, finding your footing. 

You brought your gaze up, an apology on your lips.

“Shit,” you mumbled, pulling your hands back from the stranger’s chest frantically. “I’m sorry—”

Brown eyes stared back at you, brows drawn together and full of confusion. Freckles scattered familiarly across his cheekbones and his lips parted as he looked at you. 

Clyde. 

You took a large step back, away from him, nearly stumbling again. He looked nearly as shocked as you felt, wide eyes taking you in from head to toe. After all, it had been over two years since you’d seen each other. 

You did the same—eyes moving down his thick neck, his broad shoulders, down his chest. He was still so much taller than you.

This was all too much. 

You could feel the panic setting back in your bones, and you blinked rapidly, moving to shove past him to the door, your legs carrying you before your mind could catch up.

When you did, he snapped out of it, moving to the side to block you and shoulder-checking you in the process. When he did, something firm and stiff—foreign—jabbed into your stomach, causing you to jerk away, even more past him.

Your brows furrowed in confusion, and you turned to see—

What you saw made the breath leave your chest. 

There, strapped to what remained of Clyde’s arm was a prosthetic. 

- - 

Tears fell thick and hot down your cheeks as you rested your face between your knees on the side of the dingy bar. The rough wood of the paneling on the outside of the bar dug into your back through the thin shirt Mellie had convinced you to wear, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. Your mind was elsewhere.

Gone. Clyde’s left arm was gone–or at least part of it was. 

Hurt flooded your chest at the thought of it; your once-best friend returning home from war, part of him missing, alone, and you weren’t there. He’d had to do it alone.

Another wave of tears came. 

How could you not have known?

Everyone knew everything about everyone in Logan. It was the way of things and it always had been. It was how you’d found out about your Gramma’s illness, it was how word had spread like wildfire when Mellie’s boyfriend in tenth grade cheated on her, and it was how the whole town knew Bobbie Jo was pregnant with Sadie before Jimmy did. But this. 

It struck you all at once; everyone knew. Of course everyone knew. Camila, Gwen, Mellie. Your mother. They all had known and still didn’t tell you. 

You felt like someone had torn your heart from your chest. 

The sound of gravel crunching under boots tore your gaze up. You knew who it was before he called your name. You’d know the sound of his step anywhere. 

Clyde Logan walked toward you, arms clasped behind his back, dark eyes wary. He always looked like this when he was nervous. Even now, you couldn’t believe he was standing before you after so long. Even now, you couldn’t contain the slow simmer of anger that flared in your gut at the sight of him.

He stood there a minute, eyes on yours, before he cleared his throat. 

“How…uh, how long you been back?” He offered softly, eyes never once leaving yours. 

The slow simmer in your gut reached a boil. You stood to your feet, lip curling at him. You didn’t care enough to wipe your face of tears.

“Really?” You asked harshly, voice slightly raised. Clyde flinched at your tone. “That’s what you have to say to me Clyde Logan—after three years?”

Clyde bit his lip and looked down. He sighed. 

“Junebug—-”

“Do not,” you hissed at him, glaring up at his pained expression. “You do not get to call me that anymore.”

He just stared at you, a pained expression on his face. 

It didn't surprise you—Clyde had never had a way with words. Even as kids, even as best friends, it had been hard for him to express himself. He was quiet. Now was no exception. 

“Did you get my letters?” You hated that your voice warbled. 

Clyde’s eyes fell to his boots and you knew the answer from the guilty expression that crossed his face. 

You scoffed, even more anger bubbling inside you at the confirmation. 

After the fight—the one that sent you packing, right before his third deployment, you’d written him. Countless times, apologizing, explaining yourself, begging him for a response, anything. And you’d never heard anything back. 

“I wrote you for months, Clyde.” You said, voice softer now. “When you were over there, I had to get updates from Mellie. Or from my mom, because you wouldn’t write me back. You wouldn’t answer my calls. I didn’t know if you were hurt, or if you—”

You stopped yourself, sniffing. 

You stared at his prosthetic arm, finally able to get a better look at it.

 It began just under his elbow, strapped on there to give the illusion of a full-limb. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from it. 

“Ugly, ain’t it?” He asked, noting how your stare held there. Your eyes snapped to his. 

You scoffed, ignoring him and looking away. 

“I didn’t say that,” you muttered, drying your face with your palm.

“I told Mellie not to tell you,” he blurted. “After. Made her swear not to. Don’t be mad at her.”

You sighed. 

You weren’t angry at her; you couldn’t be. Shortly after you’d realized he wanted nothing to do with you, you’d made any talk of Clyde strictly off-limits in your friendship. Even if she’d wanted to tell you, it was off limits. That was not the case, however, with your own family.

You’d be having words with your mother and grandmother when you returned home. 

“My relationship with Mellie is none of your business,” you glared up at him. “It hasn’t been for a long time.”

Clyde scoffed now, the soft, reserved look gone from his eyes and replaced by annoyance. 

“What?” you asked. “You got something to say? Say it.”

“Fine,” he barked. “Three years and you haven’t changed a bit.”

Oh, so he was pulling that card, you thought, thinking back to your last argument. You laughed humorlessly. 

“Oh, I haven’t changed?” You asked, raising your eyebrows. “At least I had the balls to come back! At least I’m not a coward like you—”

“Coward?” He asked, voice low. 

“You heard me.” You spat, voice warbling again with anger. You hated that you got like this; whenever you were angry, you’d cry. “At least I have the stones to face my mistakes. I don’t run away from them, Clyde.” 

With that you walked away, leaving him standing there in the gravel of the Duck Tape parking lot. 

He made no move to follow you, thank god. 

You decided to call it a night, knowing any chance of letting loose was long gone. Though you weren’t angry with her, you didn’t think you could face Mellie or the girls again tonight. You pulled your cell phone from your bag and sent a quick text to the group chat, telling them you’d decided to head home. You sent a separate one to Mellie, telling her you weren’t mad at her but you needed some time. 

You walked back to the front of the bar, leaning on the wood of the front railing, and stared at the phone screen. Your mother and grandmother would be asleep by now, and even if they weren’t, you weren’t sure you wanted to see them anyway. You could always call your cousins—but doing that would open up the door to countless questions and speculations at why you were leaving Duck Tape looking an emotional wreck. 

Then, it hit you.

You found the contact easily and hit call; there was one person who you knew you could call whenever, wherever to come get you, no questions asked. You just hoped he was up.

[jynzandtonic]

I saw your ask for writing requests. How about soft dominant Clyde Logan distracting you from college finals?

SOFT DOM CLYDE! SOFT DOM CLYDE! Arguably my favorite Clyde. Wishing you luck with your exams, bby! Please accept these thots:

He's been patient all night, bringing you steaming mugs of tea while you pour over your textbooks and type away on your laptop. He's so proud of how hard you work, but the hour is growing late and he can see the dark hollows underneath your eyes. He leans against the side of your desk, looking down at you with soft, expectant eyes.

"Just a couple more minutes to finish this chapter," you say, noticing the way his arms cross and his brows lift.

"Darlin', that's what ya said half an hour ago an' it's nearly midnight now. Y'need some rest."

"I know, I know," you sigh. "But I'm so close to being done."

"And it'll be there in the morning waiting for ya." He pulls your chair back and tips your chin up to kiss you slow and deep. It's soft and unhurried at first, but your heart starts to hammer as his tongue slides against yours and his hand cups the nape of your neck. His gaze is dark when you break away and liquid heat pools in your core. "Bed," he orders. "Now."

He leads you down the hallway to the room you share, crowding you toward the mattress till you tumble back on it. He's quick to tug off your bottoms and spread your legs wide, settling between your thighs to lick a hot stripe up the center of your cunt. You gasp at the sensation and lace your hands in his hair, shifting your hips up to meet his mouth.

"There's my girl," he growls, his grin wolfish as he looks up at you from under dark lashes. "Let's make you forget all about those tests."

[hauntingoldhouses]

the heist

[cas-backwards-tie]

ADCU Masterlist

A/N: Just making a separate masterlist for this because I have a fair number of these and also there's a bunch of different characters!

Kylo Ren

Call Me Kylo | Officer!Reader ↠ You're tasked with getting the Commander's signature to finish your assignment. Unfortunately, you can't find the Commander anywhere.

Correspondence ↠ The Supreme Leader has a lot on his plate, leading him to neglect certain things... like himself, for example.

Nothing But A Monster | Vampire! AU ↠ Forced to accept help from a mysterious stranger, you find yourself in a predicament of sorts.

It’s The Small Things ↠ Kylo finds your optimism odd in place of the First Order.

The Meaning Of Care | Officer!Reader ↠ Kylo Ren takes care of you when you're sick? That's something you never would've seen coming.

Clyde Logan

Pinball & Motels ↠ Roadtrips, A present for Clyde, and the one-bed trope? What more could you ask for?

A Day Off ↠ Clyde finally takes a well-deserved day off.

Flip Zimmerman

Frenzied Rendezvous* ↠ Flip finally has his way with you after enduring your teasing all night long.

Pale

Early Mornings ↠ Pale wakes up to find you making breakfast. It's like you plan on staying or something. Wait... do you plan on staying?

Solo Triplets

A Quiet Night ↠ The boys want to take you out on a proper date.

Ben Solo

Fairytale Mess* ↠ Sleeping with Ben Solo doesn't seem like such a bad idea when you're both under the influence.

Paul Sevier

Extraordinary ↠ Paul attempts to go out and have a social nigh. After everything that's happened... things haven't changed him that much, have they?

Daniel Jones

Late Night Confessions ↠ Dan wakes you up with a drunken phone call.

Multi-Character

headcanons

Breakup Headcanons

[wrathkitty]

Story/Series Masterlist

Hellooo! Thanks for stumbling onto this. My fandoms primarily are The Mandalorian and Star Trek: TNG, but there's also The Last of Us, Avengers, Portal 2, and The Good Place. I try to stick as closely to the original source material as possible, I know the canon and the characters, and probably throw in more Easter eggs and other blink-and-you'll-miss-it references than I should.

If you're one for strong and snarky Readers/OFCs (here there be swearing), slow burns (envision a glacier), angst (it's a good kind of pain), and humor (lulz), then this is probably a good place to come waste some time. 👻

* Current works in progress *

Short Debts Make Long Friends - (The Mandalorian; Din Djarin/Reader)

An over-educated, underpaid millennial finally gets to go on her first adventure. 1.6k kudos on Ao3. POV Mando and Reader.

Why Don't You Sit Right Down and Stay Awhile - One-shots from "Short Debts" that admittedly are the walking definition of 'crack treated seriously'

- Can Your Helmet Play Elevator Music? - Oh, This is Much Worse- ...It was a Custom Piece

Completed stories:

Hello, My Dear - (Star Trek: TNG; Reader/Q)

Stories of the life and times of Q and his mortal more-than-just-a-friend, Ensign Reader. Because being omnipotent doesn’t mean a thing when it comes to relationships. POV Q and Reader.

As Q Like It - One-shots from "Hello, My Dear," which primarily remain within in TNG but also wander into Voyager and other territories, but none beyond the Neutral Zone

- Shoo, Q! - TNG; Lower Decks; POV Ensign - Does the Other Party In This Scenario Go By Some Form of Epithet, Identification, or Nomenclature? - TNG; POV Data - You Have Three Choices - TNG; POV Q - That Wasn't the Actual Question - TNG; POV Reader - Do I Always Have to Have a Reason to Stop By? - TNG; POV Reader - I Haven't the Vaguest Idea of What You're Talking About - TNG, POV Q - Silver Q - Picard, POV Q

To My Brother, Thor, Whom I Slept With - (Avengers; Loki & Thor)

One-shots about the shenanigans of a young Loki and Thor, and why the young princes of Asgard are the best birth control ever. Primarily Loki's POV, but also occasionally POV Odin and Frigga regretting their choices)

- Great Aunt Snotra's Funeral- A Midnight Lesson in the Current Events of Midgard - The People vs. The Brothers Odinson, or That Time Loki Thought It Was a Bright Idea to Appear on Daytime TV - One Flew Over the Ravens' Nest (Even the Gods Can Be - Psychoanalyzed)

Come Downstairs and Say Hello - (Portal 2; Chell/Wheatley)

With Wheatley in tow, Chell might as well write "DISPENSE PRODUCT HERE" on her shirt and throw herself in front of a turret...but she can't leave him behind, either. POV Chell, Wheatley, and GLaDOS.

Other works in progress that I don't have the heart to admit to myself are probably on permanent hiatus:

Bang, Zoom, Straight to the Moon - (The Last of Us; Joel/OFC)

Joel has been more than happy to let Ellie sabotage his love life since their arrival in Jackson, but all bets are off after she learns that the town’s most recent arrival is a former astronaut. The new gal is smart, single, pretty, and good with a gun. And she’s gone to mother *fucking*��space. Joel POV.

Lucky Denver Mint - (Logan Lucky; Clyde Logan/OFC)

The stars over Boone County never looked brighter than the night a pretty astrophysicist walked into Clyde Logan’s bar. Clyde POV.

The Sleazy Place - (The Good Place)

The possibility of Michael never making into the Good Place is why Janet [literally] reassemble the Soul Squad - and what they owe Michael is why Eleanor doesn't hesitate to team up with her friends one last time to try and save their favorite former fire-squid. Eleanor POV. ...She just needs to finish that margarita first.

Like what you see? Please reblog and comment! I love comments.

[mrs-gucci]

Fireside

{ clyde logan x female reader }

anon

A fun sexy bonfire would be fun, maybe with some exhibitionism thrown in? With Flip or Clyde or anyone you think please! :D

warnings. SMUT (18+ ONLY), slight exhibitionism (high risk of being caught), oral sex (m recieving), light dirty talk, cum in mouth.

word count: 1.19k

★ written for sextember 2023 ★

** CLICKING “KEEP READING” MEANS YOU UNDERSTAND & ACKNOWLEDGE ALL OF THE WARNINGS LISTED ABOVE AND ARE OVER THE AGE OF 18. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK, YOUR CONTENT CONSUMPTION IS YOUR RESPONSIBILITY. MINORS DNI. **

collage by me :)

When Jimmy and Mellie extended an invitation to you for the Logan family annual camping trip, you were honored. You and Clyde have only been dating for about four months, but everyone agrees that you two have something really special.

So when the day rolls around, you and Clyde pack up the car and drive up to the campsite. Everyone's already there when you arrive, considering you two got a bit of a late start due to...special circumstances, aka you two being unable to keep your hands off each other.

Clyde insists on setting up the tent while you sit with the family and start getting to know everyone. It's immediately clear that you fit right in with everyone and soon enough, you've got some hot apple cider in-hand and you're cracking jokes with the group.

Soon the sky turns from blue to orange and the Logan boys begin building the campfire while everyone else gets things ready for dinner. Once it's cooked, the lively conversation continues well into the night, with plenty of laughs and stories shared between everyone.

Most of the family ends up back in their tents by ten, but you, Clyde, Jimmy and Mellie continue chatting for a bit longer. For some reason, you're starting to get really touchy. Because you're looking at Clyde in the yellow glow of the fire and he's just looking so, so handsome...

He looks over at you when he seemingly catches onto your mood, offering you a small but knowing smile. The cool metal on his prosthetic hand comes to rest on your thigh as Mellie and Jimmy start to wind down for the night.

As soon as they're in their tents, you're leaning over and pulling him in for a kiss. He chuckles against your lips, flesh hand resting on the side of your face.

"What's up with ya tonight?" he asks when you pull back slightly to catch your breath. "Don't think I didn't notice your wanderin' eyes. now."

You smile, looking up at him. "I just think you look very handsome this evening."

"Handsome, huh?" His eyebrows raise slightly as he gives you another kiss. "'n that's all that's got you all riled up? You ain't thinkin' about anything else?"

Your smile widens to a not-so-subtle grin.

"I mean, I had a few other thoughts..." you hum, getting up and climbing onto his lap. "Like what we did this morning."

Clyde hums, his hand resting on your hip, stroking your clothed skin gently.

"Oh yeah? What've ya been thinkin' about in particular?"

You kiss him deeply, then let your lips fall to his jaw, then his neck and throat, mouthing and nipping gently along the way.

"Thought about how good your mouth felt on me, how fucking good you are at eating my pussy," you hum. "Aaaand I thought about how lucky I am that I'm the only one who gets to take your big, thick dick inside of me. Mm, and finally, I thought about how I never got to repay you for making me feel so good."

He lets out a shaky breath as you slide down onto your knees in front of him, hands smoothing over his thighs. Clyde looks around at the tents, then back down at you.

"Honey, I dunno if we s-should..."

You lean in and press a very gentle kiss to the forming bulge around his crotch, your warm breath wafting over his crotch. "I mean, I can stop if you want me to. But everyone's asleep, baby, and you know I can make it quick."

His nostrils flare and his jaw clenches slightly as he tries to keep himself mostly composed. He brings his hand around to cradle the back of your head, gently pushing you down, indicating that he'd like you to continue.

Your lips turn up in a small smirk as your hands make quick work of his pants, pushing them down enough to be able to pull his length out.

The air is starting to get a bit chilly, but the fire crackling behind you helps. You hum, wrapping your lips around his tip, teasing his head before sinking down further and beginning to suck him off. Clyde grunts softly, hips rocking up instinctively and fingers tightening slightly in your hair.

"Mmm, Christ," he groans quietly, looking down at you as you bob up and down on him. "Lookit you, my p-pretty girl, mm, makin' me feel fuckin' amazing..."

You smile around him, then begin to go a bit faster, earning you a low groan from above, which only spurs you on more. Clyde's having a very hard time keeping quiet and finds himself looking around every time he makes a noise, making sure he didn't clue any of his family in to what's going on.

There's something so nerve-wracking but incredibly thrilling about this, getting a blowjob out in the open, with some of his family members sleeping only a few hundred yards away. Luckily, deep sleeping runs in the Logan family, so he's pretty confident that no one will catch you two.

And there's also the fact that he's incredibly, incredibly close to orgasm and it's only been a couple minutes. You just really know how to push all the right buttons.

"Oh honey, i-if you keep this up, I ain't gonna last much longer," he breathes. "Mm, you're too fuckin' good at this."

You pull off for a second and replace your mouth with your hand, looking up at him as you briefly catch your breath.

"You can move, baby," you breathe. "Use my mouth, I want you to cum."

Clyde growls softly and holds your head firmly in place as his hips begin to thrust up into your mouth. He loves when you let him take control, he loves that you trust him enough to let him do this.

"I'm gonna cum," he says quickly, breathing heavily through his nose, lips pursed as he frantically pushes you down and thrusts up at the same time. "Ohhhh I'm gonna cu--"

His orgasm suddenly hits and he lets out a long, low groan, hips jerking slightly with each spurt of cum. He makes sure you take every last drop you've earned from him before letting you go, leaning back in his chair to catch his breath for a moment.

You wipe your mouth with the back of your hand and catch your breath before standing up again. Clyde quickly tucks himself away, then pulls you onto his lap again, kissing you deeply, sighing at the taste of his cum lingering in your mouth.

"Fuck, darlin', you're incredible," he says in between kisses. "I...I love ya."

Your eyes widen and you pull back, looking down at him. That's the first time he's ever said it to you. You smile widely, then take his face in your hands, thumb swiping across his cheekbone.

"I love you too Clyde."

He grins from ear to ear, then kisses you again, continuing to do so for a few minutes before the two of you put out the fire and head back to your tent.

****

sextember taglist: @rynwritesstuff @safarigirlsp @babbushka @mrs-zimmerman

if you'd like to be tagged in future sextember works, please let me know via comment on this post or the original sextember post!

[cxrnality]

Hi! I’m Carnal, welcome to my blog! :)

I wanna start out by saying I’m new to tumblr, so if you see anything that needs fixing / have any suggestions, please pm me! <3

I wanna lay out some rules for my page first!

1. Absolutely no minors should view my content or interact with my content!

2. Please be aware that my content can be triggering in some circumstances. I will do my best to give proper trigger warnings, if you see that my content does not have proper T/W’s, please send me a pm and let me know! It is never my intention to leave anything out.

3. I will not write anything noncon. CNC is only acceptable when it is written that it is pre-consensual. (ex: i will write a somno fic IF there is dialogue beforehand stating consent between both characters.)

MY REQUESTS ARE OPEN, however, I’d like to keep this blog mostly open for NSFW visuals (twitter 🌽 links) for now. I am starting school soon and don’t want to overwhelm myself, but I know how little accounts post NSFW visuals!

I will write for:

ADCU (adam driver character universe, any character within that)

Aemond Targaryen

Daemon Targaryen

Alicent Hightower

Rhaenyra Targaryen

Cregan Stark

Aegon the Conqueror

Aegon II Targaryen

Maegor Targaryen

(Pretty much anyone from the ASOIAF universe!)

To send me a request, PM or make an anonymous ask! Thank you lovelies! <3

[ladyinwriting18]

Nest (Clyde Logan x You)

Summary: Clyde Logan can't bare it when his Omega suffers through her heat. To help, he builds a cozy little nest.

Words: 2,640

Warnings: A/B/O, Heat, AlphaxOmega, PIV, Knotting.

Clyde Logan stands in the corner of his bedroom totally focused on fluffing pillows. 

To most, he appeared to just be some small town hick who owned a bar. This perception doesn’t bother him much, because he didn’t see the need for validation from the outside world. Clyde is who he is, and that’s all there is to it. He hadn’t gone to college, and he may not know the Pythagorean theorem or the plot to Hamlet, but there is one thing he did know. And that is that his Omega is about to go into heat.

This explains the pillows and the endless fluffing and replacing he had been doing, he was making a nest. He had already placed a small mattress and draped a canopy with white Christmas lights over it, knowing that would give it a more romantic feel that his Omega would enjoy. There are various blankets laid out, all soft enough to provide comfort when he wasn’t busy making you cum on them. Heats are painful for any Omega. As an Alpha, it’s in his blood to protect and care for what’s his. Something that Clyde is happy to do. Finally pleased with the placement of everything, he adds one last touch. The stuffed animal that he had won for you on your third date. He’s made sure to rub his scent on everything he’s put inside the nest. That way whenever you breathed in, all you would smell is him—your Alpha. 

His ears pick up on the sound of your footsteps coming up the front porch. He can hear how sluggish your movements are. You’d be lucky if you made it till morning before the pain and the unbearable ache of your cunt started.  Keys jingle in the keyhole and the front door opens. Oh. The scent of you fills his home. It’s ten times stronger now that your heat is upon you. You’re probably already soaked through your panties. Thank God he finished the nest in time. “Darlin’?” He calls out to you while walking out of the bedroom. He finds you leaning against the wall by the front door. He’s beside you in an instant, arms wrapping around you so he could help you slip off your jacket. “Alpha’s here lil ‘mega. Are you alright?” You melt into his touch like butter. He was your life raft in the ocean of pain you currently find yourself in. You want nothing more than to be close to him so you bury your head into the fabric of his shirt. “Everything hurts and I’m dying.” You mumble against his chest. Clyde makes a sympathetic noise in the back of his throat. He hates that nature forces you to experience such pain. “Come with me. I have something that might help.” He doesn’t wait for a response. Just simply takes your hand and starts leading you to the bedroom. You don’t have the heart to tell him that the only thing that might help your current state is a bullet to the head. Stepping over the threshold to the bedroom, Clyde steps out of the way to reveal the cozy little nest he’d spent all afternoon constructing. You stop in your tracks, mouth falling open into a tiny ‘o’ shape. “Oh Clyde….Did….Did you do this all for me?” You look up at him with wide glassy eyes. No one had ever put this much time and effort into you before. Seeing this type of devotion from your mate only endears you to him more. You step forward to wrap your arms around his waist and nuzzle your nose against the center of his chest. “Thank you, Alpha. It’s perfect.” A smile twitches at the corners of Clyde’s mouth at the pride that blooms through him.  He pleased his mate. His body vibrates at the thought. He watches as you crawl into your new nest and make yourself comfortable amongst the blankets. You take a hold of one of the pillows and breathe in deeply. 

It smells like him, like warm whiskey, burning firewood and a natural musk that is innately Clyde. You put the pillow down and smile before beckoning him over. He toes off his shoes and crouches down to join you. He lets his hand travel down your leg but doesn’t say a word, just holds your gaze while taking off both of your shoes and tosses them by his. They had no place in your nest where the smell and pollution of the outside world could taint your space. With your shoes gone, he leans in and leaves a chaste kiss to your lips. He settles next to you, resting his back against the wall behind him. “Come here to me, ‘mega. Been thinkin’ bout ya all day.” You don’t hesitate to curl up between his legs and lay your head on his shoulder. A pleased hum leaves him as he wraps an arm around you. The back of your shirt has rolled up a bit, exposing just the tiniest bit of flesh. Still, Clyde can’t help but stroke his fingertips along your lower spine. His prosthetic arm rests in his lap but all the same you take his hand in yours. It never fails to make him feel loved, that you still hold his hand as if he never lost it in the first place. You on the other hand are currently struggling with wanting to fall asleep against him and the heat his touch is causing. His hand dips lower, skimming over the swell of your ass and it’s suddenly all too much. You whine his name, hands moving to grip his tee-shirt. “It’s aching Alpha. Make it better?” He hesitates, not wanting to pressure you if you need to rest, but you shift and put your legs on either side of his hips. “Please Clyde? Your Omega needs your knot.” It's all the reassurance he needs. Without warning his hands grip your ass to pull you in even closer, grinding you down against him so the rough fabric of his jeans rubs against your cunt through your leggings. “Is that so? Ya already wanna dirty up our new nest with all yer cum, huh?” Clyde smirks at you, a devilish look on his usual sweet face. His cock is starting to harden, but still he kisses you softly—to tease you and make you needier. Rationally, he knows he shouldn’t. You’re already suffering but your pleas shoot straight to his cock like nothing else could. To know you needed him, of all people to soothe you. He flips you onto your back, pinning you down to the mattress. His kiss turns passionate, his tongue molding against yours. It isn’t long before you’re pawing at his back, alerting him to the fact that you’re trying to pull his shirt over his head. With a chuckle he breaks the kiss and sits back on his knees. “Strip for Alpha, pretty girl.”

You spring into action, moving quickly to get out of your clothes. It only excites him to start ripping off his own clothes. Neither of you would be needing them anytime soon. Your panties come off and Clyde is hit with your scent at full force. So much so that it almost makes him dizzy. He grabs the innermost part of your thigh and spreads you open with a growl. “Poor girl, been drippin’ all over yerself, haven’t ya?” You whine at him, finding it difficult to form words with how frustrated you feel. He’s taking his sweet time and it’s driving you mad. Just when you’re about to lose what little control you have, he starts undoing his jeans. “Keep those open for Alpha.” He grunts, nodding his head in the direction of your legs so he could stare while pulling his hard cock from his pants. His flesh hand wraps around it, gently stroking while staring into your eyes. “Yer gonna be a good girl and do exactly what I say, ya hear?” He doesn’t bother waiting for a reply, he already knows you’ll obey. With his pants gone, he sits back against the wall and beckons you to him. “Come ride Alpha’s cock.” You scramble to your knees so you can straddle him, but Clyde stops you. “Nu-huh, not that way. Face out, towards that.” He points behind you to the full length mirror he’s placed directly facing the nest. You had been so excited about the new nest that you hadn’t noticed the mirror. The pieces start to fit together in your mind and your cheeks burn. Clyde grins at the expression on your face.  “Smart girl has it all figured out, huh?” Shyly you nod, “Alpha wants to watch as he knots me.” He holds a hand out to you so he can help you get into position without losing your balance. Once you're settled with your back facing him and the head of his length kissing your entrance he whispers in your ear. “Not just that. I want you to watch as I knot ya. I want yer eyes glued to the way I fill that cunt.”

Your breath hitches at his words, making eye contact with him in the mirror as you sink down onto him. You gasp at the feeling of him stretching you open while slipping inside. Clyde grunts, crashing his face into the crook of your neck. “Fuckkkk’ mega. Yer always so tight.” Your head falls back onto his shoulder, eyes fluttering closed. 

You feel so full….so complete. Like the two of you are puzzle pieces that are meant to fit together. Slowly you start to grind your hips forward, trying to build up momentum. “H-Help me?” Both prosthetic and flesh hands go to your hips, keeping you steady as he drags you up and down on his cock. You moan out, moving with him to bounce faster on his cock. “Oh God, Clyde. I love how good you feel inside! Hitting me s-so deep!” He growls in response, eyes darting in every direction. From your face, to your breasts, to your slick little cunt that’s currently gobbling up his hard cock. Your eyes close again and Clyde grunts. He wants you to enjoy the view just as much as he is. “Open those eyes.” He thrusts his hips up hard, forcing your eyes to snap open. “Good girl. Watch what Alpha does to ya.” His tone is stern and commanding. It has you clenching around him. His dominance never failed to make you desperate to please him. “I’m watching Alpha! I swear!” The ease at which Clyde maneuvers you on his length makes your cunt drip. He hits a particularly deep spot inside you and you nearly howl from the pleasure. You look at your reflection and watch where your bodies meet, watch him pound into you, watch the juices leak down to his balls. It does nothing but turn you on further. He catches the direction of your gaze, sees that you're fixated on the spot where you’re joined and a cocky grin spreads over his face. You were all his. “Ma lil ‘mega, she says she’s so innocent but her eyes are glued to Alpha’s cock fuckin’ her. That pretty lil cunt all open and drippin’.” Your chest heaves, trying to pull enough air into your lungs to respond but all you can manage to do is bed. “Alpha—fuck! Clyde, more, please more!” You aren’t even sure what it is you’re begging for. All you know is your body is craving release. Using your free hand, you reach up and start tugging on your nipple. It sends jolts of pleasure throughout your entire body.

He huffs against the skin of your shoulder, seeing you act so desperate has his cock throbbing. “That’s it, naughty girl. Look at ya being a whore for me.” It’s something he rarely calls you. So hearing it now has you gasping. Clyde nips are your earlobe, his playful mood continuing. He plants a foot onto the mattress and uses it as leverage to fuck up into you even harder. The more aggressive thrusts have your entire body bouncing a top him. “Is this what ya meant by more?” He grunts in between thrusts and pants for breath. You nod, starting to feel a familiar tightness blooming in your lower belly. You whimper out his name and lean even further back against his chest. Looking at your reflection you can see the dazed look on your face. You look like an utter deprived mess. Your hair is wild, breasts are bouncing, your mouth open in an ‘o’ shape and flesh flushed with sweat. His arm comes around your middle to keep you securely in place as your body slam together. Wet slapping sounds fill the room. “Look at how beautiful ya look. So beautiful and all mine. Say it. Tell me how beautiful ma mate is!” You hesitate and Clyde sucks on your mating gland. Despite the amount of times he’s bitten it and marked you, it still has the power to make you yelp in pleasure. “Say it.” He growls, commanding you to obey. “Say it and I’ll give ya ma knot.” You’d do anything for that. So even though your voice trembles, the words flow from you like water. “I’m beautiful. I’m Alpha’s beautiful mate!” He coos praises to you. “That’s ma girl. Go on and rub that swollen clit. Lets get ya cummin’ so you can take this knot.”  

Your hand dips down between your thighs to your clit. It pulses under your fingertips from being so stimulated. Your orgasm is indeed close and circling your fingers over your clit has your toes curling. You let out a strangled sob….moments away from the edge. “That’s it ‘mega, I’ve gotcha. Cum for me!” He reassures while trying to hold it together but watching his reflection you can see that he’s nearing his peak just as fast. His teeth are bared with sweat forming on his forehead. He looks primal and so fucking delicious. Seeing the fire in his eyes is all you need. Your orgasm hits you hard. Hard enough to make you dizzy, but just as Clyde said—he has you. You let your body focus on nothing else but the tingling numbness of your orgasm. Clyde huffs hotly, movements rougher and sloppier. A few more snaps of his hips and his knot expands at the base of his cock, stretching you out even more as he fills you up. He howls, his own pleasure overtaking him while his knot locks your bodies together. It keeps his seed inside and rushing to the only place it’s meant to go—your womb. Slowly both of your movements come to a stop. Your bodies twitch as muscles unclench and relax. He slumps back against the wall and you slump back against him. The rise and falls of your chests sync up as you come down from your highs. Through shudder breaths he manages to speak first. “Yer alright, sweet girl?” You nod, practically purring now that you’ve been knotted. The ache of your heat has momentarily subsided. With his hand to your stomach he carefully turns you both onto your sides. His knot still keeps you interlocked so he takes care not to cause his mate any discomfort from jostling you around too much.  Once you’re settled, he nuzzles you with his nose and hums words of praise. “Ma good ‘mega. Took yer Alpha’s knot so well. Made me so proud.” You purr in response and let your eyes close. He softly chuckles. “Someone’s sleepy hm? I think ma mate needs herself a nap.” “Maybe just a little one? And then after I can cum for Alpha again?” You whisper shyly. Clyde chuckles again with a nod. “Anything ya want ‘mega.”

[rynwritesstuff]

Hi can I please request the pulling them into their lap prompt with Clyde? I love your writing

Thank you, anon! I hope you enjoy this :)

Clyde Logan x Reader

Contains: Sleepy cuddling, Clyde being a cutie

Word Count: 390

Summary: You and Clyde enjoy a relaxing evening at home.

It’s a cool summer night in West Virginia, and you and your husband are watching TV with the windows open and candles burning on the mantle. It’s nearly fall, and the seasons have begun to transition ever so slightly. Dropping temperatures, Autumn collections at Yankee Candle, and Halloween decor at the grocery stores have already started popping up. 

With fall and the holidays on the way, you and Clyde are getting as much rest as you can before the hectic months sneak up on you. His arm is wrapped around you, and you’re cuddled into his side as the smell of those fall candles fill the living room. 

“Ya fallin’ asleep on me, darlin’?” Clyde asks softly, not expecting an answer. You hum, shaking your head. 

“Not yet.”

He kisses the top of your head, his fingers running over the bare skin of your arm as you snuggle further into his solid, warm side. 

“Mm. Ya gettin’ tired?” Clyde asks before yawning. You laugh softly, looking up at him. “A bit. Are you?” 

Clyde smiles, then presses his lips against yours. 

“Mhm. Had a real long shift tonight.”

“Will you tell me about it?”

“What’s there to tell?” Clyde asks. 

“I don’t know. Were there any interesting customers tonight?” Clyde shakes his head. 

“‘Fraid not, darlin’. Nothin’ to report tonight.” 

You sigh, then look back at the TV. Clyde leans his head against yours, and the two of you sit just like that for a long while until he lets out a soft snore. You look up, and sure enough, your husband’s mouth is agape and his eyes are shut. Another snore comes from him, and you smile. 

“Handsome?” you say, nudging him. He wakes, then looks around. “Let’s head up to bed, hm?” 

Clyde shakes his head, then puts his hand on your hip and tugs you against him. You know what this means, so you climb into his lap carefully. “Let’s just stay like this for a while, darlin’,” Clyde says softly, already dozing off again. You kiss his pink lips, then wrap your arms around the back of his neck and rest your head on his shoulder, cozying up on top of him. 

“Alright, baby.” 

Clyde wraps his arm around your middle, then lets his hand rest on your back. You’re both asleep within five minutes.

Taglist: @safarigirlsp (Let me know if you'd like to be added!)

[jaynesilver]

Happy Secret Santa to the wonderful @veecantswim! I adore your art so much, and I was both excited by and inspired by your prompts. I hope you enjoy my first adventure into Clydeland! Happy Holidays, and Happy New Year! Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Logan Lucky (2017), Crash Pad (2017), Star Wars Sequel Trilogy Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Clyde Logan/Stensland (Crash Pad), Armitage Hux/Kylo Ren Characters: Clyde Logan, Stensland (Crash Pad), Grady (Crash Pad), Morgan (Crash Pad), Millicent the Cat (Star Wars) Additional Tags: Explicit Sexual Content, Gay Sex, Strangers to Lovers, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff and Smut, Internalized Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Crossdressing, Lingerie, First Time, Semi-Public Sex, Self-Esteem Issues, Cat Cafés, Kylux Adjacents

Summary: Running a cat cafe isn't the exciting hobby that his brother and the Bang Brothers meant for him to pick up, but ever since opening up the little cafe, Clyde Logan is happier than ever. He's got his bar, his family, a secret stash of money, and the cat cafe is the perfect addition to his comfortable life.

But what's the deal with the sad redhead that keeps coming in? @thekyluxsecretsanta

[brewsterispunkk]

diamonds and stones (masterlist)

pairing: clyde logan x f!reader

rating: 18+ éxplicit!

warnings: short description of domestic violence, PTSD, eventual smut, soooo much angst,

summary: “I think I might always be in some kind of love with you,” — F. Cabanes or, a story of friendship and second chances.

CHAPTERS:

prologue

part one

interlude: the letters (coming soon)

extras:

spotify playlist!

[jynzandtonic]

12 Days of Fluffmas — Day 3: Mistletoe

Clyde Logan x Reader

He’d decided to hire another bartender at the end of the summer, finally resigned to the fact that he needed a little help at Duck Tape with it being so busy. But he didn’t know how much he’d like having company until he met you—all bright eyes and sweet smiles as you worked side by side. You took to it like a fish to water, mixing drinks and pouring beers and chatting with the regulars like you’d been there for years. You were a godsend on hectic nights when the bar was packed, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t appreciate the slow shifts with you even more. The two of you could talk the night away together, sharing stories and getting to know each other.

He knew you loved the holidays and just couldn’t say no when you’d asked to decorate for Christmas come the beginning of December. You’d strung twinkle lights along the windows and hung tinsel garlands from the ceiling, but despite the festive display, what he noticed first was the little sprig of mistletoe you’d placed in the archway between the bar and the back office. Somethin’ cute for the patrons, he’d figured, trying not to think about what it would feel like to press his lips against yours.

Mercifully, he’d forgotten all about it with the influx of holiday customers celebrating the season at the bar. The two of you had stayed busy, busy, busy all the way up to Christmas Eve, but tonight the place is quiet as can be. He figures that most people are at home with their families and feels affirmed in his decision not to open the bar for Christmas Day tomorrow. It’s nearly closing time and he walks to the back office to lock it up for the night. When he turns around to return to the bar, he finds you waiting for him in the space between.

He stands in front of you with a quizzical look until you place a hand on his broad chest and lift your eyes to the ceiling. He looks up with you, and sees the mistletoe there. You’re smiling when his eyes return to yours, and he lets out a soft “oh.”

Pressing up on to your tiptoes, your mouth meets his in a soft, chaste kiss. You pull back to look at him and see utter surprise painted across his face.

“Merry Christmas, Clyde,” you whisper, your gaze hopeful. 

You make to step away, but Clyde grabs you by the waist as his lips crash into yours. One of his hands comes to cup the nape of your neck, pulling you in closer. When his tongue slides against the seam of your lips you open for him, deepening the kiss. 

When you finally come up for air, there’s something wild in his eyes but his voice is soft when he speaks.

“You’re the only thing I wished for, darlin’,” he says, stroking his thumb across your cheek. “Just you.”

[truevelvet]

if anyone is still reading for adam driver and ben affleck characters, my requests are open!! :))

[maybe-your-left]

It's the Holidays, right?

I'm in a mood... a silly fun silly mood to write some delicious content for you all...

Here we go, saddle up, lets see if I can crank out some garbage after a long time on the bench!

Who I write for? Check out the Masterlist baby - No FLIP ZIMMERMAN OR ADAM HIMSELF

Want something different? Request something from my second blog @parallel-to-right for Anime men (see this post for people i will write for)

Some prompts:

Song Prompts (pick a SICK SONG & send it to me w the artist name too and I'll base something around it)

Smut Prompts

Fluffy/Romance Prompts

ROULETTE BABY PICK FROM MY RANDOM ASS LIST OF PROMPTS FROM MY PHONE (Pick a number between 1-24)

Types of Kisses

Dream Prompts

Tagging the old old old list for attention... @finn-ray-nal-beads @thepalaceofmelanie @ghoulian @botnasty @xxgarden @pop-rocks-and-skittles @historyandfandoms @doggycompiex @daydreamsofren @millenialcatlady @ladyjade83 @mariesackler @eagerforhoney @celestiasin @emi11 @caillea @livi-s @emeritusemeritus @jynzandtonic @ohdamnadamm

[andrinanightshade1]

And there's a hand, my trusty fiere! And gie's a hand o' thine!

(T, one shot, 990 words)

A Clydphelia meet-cute on Hogmanay.

Pairing: Ophelia/Clyde Logan

Read it on AO3

[brideofkylosolo]

A random one shot