#clyde logan fluff

[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.

[ladyinwriting18]

Our First Valentine's Day

Summary: You and Clyde celebrate your first Valentine's Day together. Perhaps the two of you will finally take your relationship to a more intimate level.

Words: 3,538

Warnings: Fingering, oral sex, PIV.

Today is Valentine’s Day. Your very first Valentine’s Day with your very new boyfriend, Clyde Logan. You two haven’t been dating for very long so you haven’t expected him to make a big deal of the day. But to your surprise, he had.  The evening had been spent going out to dinner and then the movies, where you and Clyde had split a bucket of popcorn. Electrical sparks had shot through you every time your fingers touched while reaching to grab popcorn. Even innocent touches shared between you set you aflame. Who could blame you? Clyde is tall, strong, and handsome. With full, pouty lips that you want to feel kiss more than just your mouth.

You shake the thoughts from your mind. It hasn’t even been a full month since the two of you started dating. And Clyde being the Southern gentleman that he is, hasn’t done more than hold your hand, hug you and kiss you. But as he pulls his truck up to the motel, you can’t help but hope that tonight he does more. 

You fidget beside him in the passenger seat with a mix of excitement and nerves. If tonight was going to be the night you finally slept together, then you wanted to be prepared. So prepared that you’re wearing a short, light pink babydoll nightgown and matching lace panties under your dress. You hope he’ll like it, since you aren’t exactly sure what his preference is when it comes to lingerie and such. What you do know is that he always treats you like a princess. So…why not dress the part?

He takes the key from the ignition and sees you make a move to get out of the truck. “You wait right there,” he teasingly scolds, then hops out to jog over to the other side and open the car door. He holds out a hand for you. You smile wide at how considerate he always is. “Why thank you, Sir.” You place your hand in his and let him help you step out of the truck. “Anything for you, Darlin’.” He momentarily strokes your cheek before grabbing both overnight bags from the backseat. 

You walk together towards the room that Clyde reserved for the night. He unlocks the door and holds it open for you to step inside first. You quickly flick on the light, illuminating the room. It’s an average motel room, but clean and spacious with a comfy looking king size bed. Waiting on the bed is a bouquet of sunflowers and roses. “Oh Clyde! They’re beautiful.” You excitedly go over and pick the flowers up to smell them before turning back to him. “You’re so good to me. Thank you.” “It’s nothin’ you don’t already deserve. I wish I could give ya more but I hope this is enough.” You hold your hand out for him, silently asking him to join you. He comes over to wrap his arms around you and leans down to kiss the top of your head. You look up into his eyes, making sure his focus is on you. “It is more than enough. You’ve made me a very happy girl today.” He can feel the tips of his ears burn. Knowing he’s pleased you does more than just make him happy, it turns him on.  Truth be told, Clyde had hopes for where the night took them, but he in no way wants to pressure you if you aren’t ready. He’s more than happy to take the backseat and let you drive until you give him the okay. Until then, he’ll keep things rated PG. “I was thinkin’ we could watch a movie and then maybe go get some ice cream. That place ya like is right down the road.” As he talks, he moves to the side of the bed and takes a seat. He toes off his shoes before reclining back against the headboard in his blue jeans and button up. It’s clear he doesn’t mean to look so alluring, but you can’t stop your eyes from roaming over his frame. Without looking away, you slip off your heels and climb up onto the bed. You crawl over and kneel beside him. “You’ve spoiled me tonight.” You reach out a hand and lay it on his thigh. “How can I ever repay you?” He nearly chokes on air when you grip his thigh. Something about it has him wondering about your motives. Was this your way of tentatively making a move? “Ya don’t have to repay me. I wanted to do this for ya.” He sits up, trying to make sure he says the right thing. “It’s…made me happy to do this for ya.”

You smile and squeeze his thigh. Taking this as a good sign, Clyde leans in and presses a soft kiss to your lips. Your reaction is better than he could have imagined. Not only do you return the kiss, but also wrap your arms around his shoulders. You seem to be tugging him closer as if urging him to touch you. It’s all the incentive he needs to pull you on top of him while sinking back into the bed. He groans into your mouth, flesh hand tangling in your hair while he slants his lips against yours. You melt into him, enjoying the feeling of his mouth and body heat. His tongue runs across the seam of your lips so you’ll part them and let his tongue slip into your mouth. Your hands move to the front of his dress shirt to start undoing the first few buttons. But when you find the undershirt he wears beneath, you whine at the material separating you from his skin.

You’ve waited so long to be close to him that you can’t help but feel frustrated. You break the kiss with a pout. Clyde chuckles at your impatience. “It’s alright, Darlin’. I’ve got ya.” He subtly ruts his hips up into you to let you know he’s as eager as you. “We have all night. I wanna treat ya right. Give ya what ya need.” His metal prosthetic hand squeezes one of your asscheeks before starting to scrunch the fabric of your dress up. The feeling of him pulling up your dress, reminds you of the surprise you’ve hidden. “I wore something especially for you.” Your cheeks heat up with your admission. “Do….Do you want to see?” You do your best to be confident. This would be the first time you’ve ever been this exposed in front of him. Half dazed, Clyde nods, excited to see that you’ve put together your own surprises for him. Still on your knees, you lift your dress above your head before tossing it on the floor. You pull your bottom lip between your teeth and look at him innocently. All you can do is pray that he likes what he sees.

From the way his jaw drops and his eyes dilate, he likes what he sees very much. His eyes drag over every detail of your body and the baby pink lingerie. He reaches out to feel the material between two fingers. “I ain’t never seen a more beautiful sight.” “Really? You like it?” Clyde nods, “Ya look like a lil’ Princess.” His voice drops to a lustful whisper. “Ma lil’ Princess.” The fingers that play with the edge of the lingerie, moves to grip your hip. You’re close to tackling him to the bed, but he asks if you’ll help him with the rest of his shirt. You immediately spring into action, ridding him of his dress and under shirt, revealing the smooth, soft skin of his chest and torso. He nervously licks his lips. “I know I’m no movie star—” You silence his words with a finger pressed to his lips. “We’re going to have some problems if you talk badly about my boyfriend.” Clyde chuckles at your playfulness and lets you continue. “I love what I see and I want to see more.” That catches his attention. His smile turns into a sly grin and pushes your finger away from his mouth. “Ah, so I have a greedy Princess on my hands, hm?” You giggle and look down shyly. The hand resting on your hip tugs you forward in time with him leaning up to capture your mouth. His kiss is slow but firm. You enjoy the pace since it lets you enjoy the softness of his lips and the scratch of his facial hair. Your hands lazily run over his chest, wanting to get to know his body. Your fingers find themselves at the waistband of his Levi’s, trailing lower until you accidentally touch the bulge in the front of his jeans. You break the kiss with a gasp and find Clyde smirking at you. “Go on, Princess. Take what ya want.” You’re so desperate to see him and touch him that his permission feels like a blessing. Your hands make quick work of his belt and zipper before hooking your fingers into the waistband and start tugging off his jeans and boxers. His legs are impossibly long. It feels like it takes fucking forever to strip him of his pants, but once they’re off, you toss them onto the floor and turn your gaze back to him. Your eyes go wide at the sight of him.

His cock stands proudly, thick and jetting up towards his navel with a mess of dark curls at the base. You crawl back to him, laying beside him in the crook of his arm. He smiles and pulls you in closer while his metal hand comes up to stroke your cheek. You grip the wrist and turn your face to kiss the palm. “Should I take this off for you as well? Whatever makes you more comfortable.” Clyde swallows thickly at your words, his face flushing slightly. “I…I don’t want to make ya uncomfortable, and if it’s better for ya that I keep it on, then I don’t mind. I just wanna make ma girl feel good-” You quiet him with a firm kiss, pouring your affection into it. “Your comfort is just as important as mine and you already do make me feel good. Having it on won’t affect that.” He mulls it over in his head, trying to decide. Since losing his hand he’s struggled with feeling man enough. Especially because women had started to look at him differently. But not you. You accepted all of him. “I’d prefer it off,” he whispers to you. Carefully, you start to remove his prosthetic. You watch his expression to make sure you’re doing it correctly and not causing him discomfort. Once it’s off, you place it on the nightstand beside the bed. You turn back to him and start to kiss from his shoulder, down his arm to where his amputation scar is, and kiss that too. He gasps when your lips come in contact with his scar. No one had ever touched it or treated it like this…like it was just another part of him that deserved to be loved and treated with reverence. “Is this okay?” He breathes out a ‘yes’ that almost sounds like a moan. You kiss all around his scar while your fingers massage his flesh. Above you, Clyde’s lips part and his head tilts back. He feels so…loved that he isn’t sure how to handle it. What he does know is that he wants to make you feel just as loved as he does. You kiss back up his arm to his chest and move to straddle him. With your knees on either side of his thighs, you’re able to press your chest to his and nuzzle his nose with yours. But you’ve ignited something in your Valentine. Something that leaves him aching for more than your sweet kisses. Using his strength, he flips you onto your back with him on top of you. He wastes no time in kissing and nipping at your neck and chest. Your giggles from being flipped over quickly dissolve into whimpers. The contrast between his soft lips and the sharp bite of his teeth leaves you quaking. 

He continues his way down to your thighs and pulls them apart to nuzzle his nose into your center. You can’t help but feel embarrassed, knowing that the lace panties are most likely clinging to your already wet cunt like a second skin. He inhales deeply, sighing at the scent. “Ya smell so sweet, Princess. Can I taste ya?” You find it hard to form words, so you nod and lift your hips to help him slide your panties off. You bite your bottom lip and let your knees fall apart, revealing your bare cunt to him for the very first time. Clyde stares, mesmerized by how soft and wet your cunt is. Not wanting to waste another moment, he shoves his face into your cunt and eats you like a man starved. He licks at your entrance before shoving his tongue as far as he can inside of you, tasting every drop of slick you have to offer him. After a moment, he pulls back to look at you. “Ya have the best tastin’ pussy I’ve ever had the pleasure of eatin’.” If you wanted to respond, Clyde doesn’t give you the chance before burying his face back between your thighs. He looks at you through his lashes, watching you thrash as he sucks on your clit. He rolls the bud between his teeth before flicking it with his tongue. You moan out his name, melting and opening your legs even wider for him. Having better access, he slips a single finger through your tight walls. You grind into his hand, panting even though he only has one finger inside. “Can ma Darlin’ take more?” You aggressively nod, feeling desperate. “Y-yes, more. I want more!” He doesn’t need to be told twice and slides a second finger in. Your inner walls clench around his thick digits as he fingers you with quick, slick thrusts. 

The way you moan and writhe for him makes him work harder. He works his tongue with more fervor, flicking your clit and picking up the pace of his fingers. Your cunt drips down to his palm, allowing him to slip in a third finger. You arch your back and cry out. How he already knows your body so well is beyond your realm of comprehension. You can already feel your orgasm drawing closer. That feeling only intensifies when he crooks his fingers in just the right spot that his calloused fingertips rub your g-spot. “Fuck! Clyddddeeee, right there! I’m s-so close!” He hums encouragement at you, trying to tell you he wants you to cum but doesn’t want to stop giving you pleasure. The vibrations go straight to your cunt and that’s all you need to reach your peak. Your cunt clamps down around his fingers and unfiltered music spills from your open mouth as you chant his name like a prayer. You feel like you’re floating on a cloud but Clyde focuses on working you through your orgasm. It’s only once your body slumps back onto the mattress does he remove his fingers from your core. He sits up and licks his fingers clean. “Mmmh, fuck me. I could eat your pussy all fuckin’ day and still not have enough.” He crawls back up your body with his chin and beard shiny with your slick. You don’t have time to feel embarrassed because he’s already pressing a kiss to your lips and sliding his tongue into your mouth so you can taste yourself. Your tongues play with one another, the passion between you increasing. “I want to make you feel good too.” You hum against his mouth and mischievously slide your hand down his body until it comes in contact with his cock. You purr at the feeling of it throbbing in your hand. “So big. You’re going to end up stretching me out.” Clyde groans at your words, hips bucking forward into your grasp. He’s too excited to wait any longer, so he flips you over again, pulling you to straddle him while he rests against the pillows. “Will ma Princess ride me?” You nod with a giggle. “If that’s what my man wants.” “Yeah, that’s what I want,” he responds almost breathlessly while watching you line his cock up with your entrance. 

You sink down slowly, head falling back at the feeling of him filling you up. Your cunt desperately tries to get accustomed to the girth of him. Every ridge and vein has you whimpering.  “Fuck Darlin’, you’re so fuckin’ tight. Can’t believe ya takin’ all of me.” The praise makes you shiver. Your hands grip his chest, using the leverage to start moving faster.

You’re bouncing up and down on his cock now, causing him to groan whenever your cunt flutters around him. He starts thrusting his hips in time with your movements, so that as you fall back down on him, his hips rise, spearing you hard on his cock and making you bounce. “Fuck, look at your tits,” he swears while watching them, hypnotized by the way they bounce in the pink cups of the babydoll you wear. His hand gropes at one and then the other as you continue to ride him. With a growl, he pulls your breasts free and moves his hand into your hair to pull you down so he can nuzzle his face against them. His facial hair tickles your skin, but the warmth of his mouth suckling at your nipples feels so good. They quickly become taunt under his ministrations. You feel yourself dripping down his length, especially now that he’s thrusting his hips even harder. His fat cockhead hits your cervix with each sloppy bounce.

It has you babbling, “Clyde! Feels so good. Y-You’re so deep in my cunt!”

His nostrils flare, tearing his mouth from your breast and watching your cunt swallowing him whole. The sight causes him to bite on his tongue to stop himself from cumming. He stares up into your eyes. His gaze is so intense that it steals your breath away. “Wanna make ya cum. Will ya let me, Princess?” “God, yes. Please, I want to cum for you.” His hand moves down between your thighs while his other arm comes around your waist to keep you close. With his thumb and forefinger, he pinches and rolls your clit between his two fingers. It has you throwing your head back and your thighs trembling. Your movements become more erratic, unable to focus on anything else but the pleasure coursing through your body. Your cunt starts clenching around him in longer intervals, telling him that your orgasm is near. “That’s it, Princess. Cum for me. Cum so I can fill ya up nice an’ full.” You wrap your arms around his shoulders and press your forehead to his, trying to steady yourself, but your body is taking over. His fingers work you faster, your swollen clit pulses against the pads of his fingers. You’re so close, moments away away from reaching your peak. You brokenly whine his name, feeling overwhelmed, but Clyde is there, holding you and praising you. “That’s it. I’m here, Babygirl. Right here. Cum on ma cock.” His fingers roll your clit just right and suddenly you’re shuddering and cumming so hard that you almost lose your balance atop him. He moans as you cum around him. Your walls squeeze his cock in a vice grip. He tries to hold off his own orgasm, wanting to fuck you through yours first, but he can’t stop the natural reaction of his body. “Shit! Fuckin’ Christ!” he howls, filling you with ropes of sticky cum. His cock throbs inside of you as aftershocks rip through his body. You cling to one another, catching your breath until Clyde sinks back onto the pillows, pulling you with him so you’re resting on top of his chest. “Princess, that was….God damn.” He sighs happily with his eyes closed. His comment earns him a giggle and a kiss to his chest before you look back into his eyes. He presses a kiss to your forehead while his fingers stroke your back. “Y’alright?” You answer without hesitation, “More than alright. You made me feel so good.” A smile spreads across his face. “I’m glad. That’s all I wanted, to make ma girl feel good.” “Well mission accomplished, Mr. Logan.” You stroke his cheek, wanting to show him more affection. “And are you alright?” “I couldn’t be more perfect,” he whispers before leaning in to place a soft kiss to your lips. The two of you resituate, you laying beside him within the crook of his arm. You lay a hand on his chest, directly over his heart.  A comfortable silence falls over the room. The two of you bask in the afterglow of your love making. Everything feels beyond perfect. You couldn’t want for anything else. Except…. “Clyde?” “Yes, Darlin’?” "Can we still go get that ice cream?” Laughter rips through him. His entire frame shakes with it. “Of course we can. Whatever ma pretty lil’ Valentine wants.”

[badboyzbingobrunch]

The Books Beside Clyde Logan’s Bed

Clyde Logan loves his books. That being said there is a small collection beside his bed of personal favourites as well as books he intends to read but hasn’t gotten around to.

“The moon is high like your friends were the night that we first met. I went home and tried to stalk you on the internet. Now I’ve read all of the books beside your bed.”

-Taylor Swift

First in the list is catch 22:

This book was recommended to Clyde by a friend from his military service. Though Clyde enjoys a good conspiracy and satirical piece, there are some parts of this book that are a little too intense for him. Because of this, the book sits lower in the stack with a bookmark hanging out of the side indicating that he hasn’t finished reading it yet.

Next on the list is My Dark Vanessa:

Clyde discovered this book when asking the woman in the bookstore, “ma’am, do you recommend anythin’ new?” Taking full advantage of the opportunity to educate a man on the difficult realities young girls and women face in society, she explained that this is a book for anyone who cares about the safety of young girls. Clyde, being his sweet self and the uncle of a young girl, couldn’t refuse. The amount of anger that this book brought him is palpable. The book sits towards the top of the stack because he recently finished it with red tabs on various pages indicating “red flags” that Clyde intends to look for so that he can protect Sadie and be aware if he has a daughter of his own.

Fahrenheit 451:

Clyde first learned about this book in his American literature class in school. Being a man who loves books, this small book easily became a favourite of his. It sits beside the stack due to its smaller size. Clyde doesn’t want it to get lost among the other books in his trailer so it will dutifully remain at his bedside.

The Key lime Crime:

This was a book of Mellie’s that casually caught Clyde’s eye when he was visiting her salon for a trim. It was casually sitting at her work station just beckoning for him to reach out and grab it. “Clyde honey, do you want to take a look at it?” His sister’s question caught him off guard. His cheeks tinted bright red as he examined the feminine cover. “What’s it about?”

Death By Pumpkin Spice:

After reading The Key Lime Crime, Clyde developed a proclivity for cozy mystery novels. He tries to interchange his cozy mystery books to match the seasons. He boldly reads the books within the comfort of his trailer, or by the lake when fishing with Jimmy. Jimmy once asked him if those kinds of books were for ladies, and Clyde simply looked up from the pages with his signature stoic expression. “Am I a lady?” Jimmy shrugged and shook his head. “Okay then, there’s yer answer.”

The Flags of our Fathers:

Due to his service in the military, Clyde wanted to read military themed books in hopes that it would help him better make sense of his own military experience. This was an effort that usually left him bored as he prefers more fast paced books to distract him from his busy life. He hasn’t read past the first page, but he intends to finish it one day. It currently sits just below Catch 22 at the bottom of the stack.

[kylosjuul]

Kylo Ren NSFW Alphabet (reupload)

a/n: i posted this last year and here it is again! if ur expecting kylo to be a dom don’t read this. Also, this is AFAB!reader.

——

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Kylo has never had anybody to cherish like this, to hold. So you best believe after sex, he’s planting soft kisses across your face and lips trying to show how lucky he feels to have you; that you gave this gift of intimacy to him. It’s all soft touches and cuddles (fight me on this). He looks at you with a sense of longing, to have this feeling forever. He’ll hold your hand over his heart while you fall asleep on his chest, for it only beats for you.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Everything about your body has Kylo red in the face, but he finds his eyes trailing to your thighs and your ass often. Your uniform clings to them tightly, and he feels guilty about how quick his blood pools to his thighs, constantly readjusting his leather pants when you bend down or “accidentally” brush against him.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Okay, listen. Kylo has never had any sexual experience so you BEST believe he cums a lot. And hard. Borderline hyperspermia. He’s just so sensitive and you just feel too good wrapped around him. Expect rope after rope of thick cum coating your walls, spilling out of you and down your thighs :D

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

You make him hard. A lot. He feels so perverted, especially in the beginnings of your relationship. The soft floral notes of your perfume made his pants constrict, the sweet smell making him dizzy. Every kiss, every brush of your fingers=boner. He was embarrassed. The worst part is the wet dreams. Oh. The dreams. Kylo’s mind would drift to images of you kissing him, sitting on top of him, the warmth between your legs remedying the pressure building in his hips; but he would wake up every time, hard as a rock, spilling into his sleep pants panting your name. Yeah.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Absolute virg. Never even kissed a girl before. The first time you climbed on top of him and started trailing kisses down his neck, he was 100% whipped, almost finishing in his uniform as you rocked against his length. He knew he couldn’t give this up, couldn’t give YOU up.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

A bit simple, but this man lovesss missionary. He gets off when your face twists up in pleasure, knowing he’s the one providing it to you. Plus, he can hear each moan, each sharp intake of breath; Between your face drenched in lust, your sweet sounds, and your tits bouncing with each thrust, this position makes him cum the hardest. (Besides you on top. He’ll dig his fingers into your hips watching himself disappear inside you over and over. yum).

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

I’d say Kylo is serious during the deed. He just loves you so much and wants to worship you with every bit of intimacy he has in him. Large calloused palms smoothing back your hair, plush lips sucking on your collarbone, all of it.

“You’re so beautiful. My sweet girl…”

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He isn’t the hairiest man in the galaxy, but he does have a bit of hair down south. Nothing too extreme though. Kylo is very hygienic and well groomed, nothing to worry about here!

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

THE MOST INTIMATE. You can see in his eyes how he feels he doesn’t deserve you, doesn’t deserve your soft body beneath him. He treats you as if you’ll break, as if you’re the most precious being in the universe. Constantly asking if you’re okay, or, “Does this feel good?” He loves to serve you. To pleasure you.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

As aforementioned, Kylo can’t help how hard he is around you 24/7. If he knows he’s going to see you, he’ll tuck himself away into his refresher and think of your figure, your eyes looking up at him, (that REALLY makes him cum fast) and stroke his cock with a punishing pace, imagining you slamming down on his hips. He feels a tinge of shame as he grits his teeth and releases his load onto the refresher door.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Praise. He feels his thighs go weak when you drag your fingers through his hair and call him a “good boy.” He’ll look up at you through heavy lids, a silent plea for more soft touches and appraisals. Also, eye contact. If you ever want anything from him, just look up at his through your eyelashes and he’ll blush like a madman, giving you whatever it is you crave.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

He’s a very private person and extremely jealous, so he prefers to fuck you in your shared quarters. Nowhere else. Okay, maybe in his TIE, but that’s only when you beg him so sweetly; and who is he not to give his girl whatever she wants?

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Yes. Just yes. A kiss that lingers a second too long, his name on your lips (in any context), your soft hand following the curve of his jaw. He’s a goner. If you want to torture the man, wear a low cut top around him, he’ll be desperately grabbing at your hips in no time.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Anything involving someone else. He’s a jealous, jealous man. All these fics about him sharing you with the KOR….girl. A big no no is anything related to degradation. Attention all Kylo writers! He would never even DREAM of calling you names or hurting you in any way. You’re his precious girl and he just loves you so so much:(

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Virgin, remember? The first time you sucked his cock, he’s was a panting mess, brows furrowed, low moans punched from his chest, finishing in your mouth in under a minute. After a few times together, you guided him on how to eat pussy, and he definitely prefers watching your hips rock up into his face, coming undone from his warm tongue. (Kylo will never admit this, but while he was eating you out he rocked against the mattress like a rabid dog, cumming all over his stomach, a pool of his spend spreading over the sheets. Yeah, he prefers giving).

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

It depends on how much time you’ve spent apart. If he hasn’t seen you for a week, (missions, supreme leader shit) he’ll fuck into you with a strong and punishing pace, still careful not to hurt you, though. If it’s a normal day, he’ll slowly rock into you, dragging his cock along your walls in a sensual way, but you usually beg him to speed up, pushing you further and further up the mattress.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Kylo is a simp. He will take whatever you so kindly gift him with. You get to fuck your man whenever you so please. He gives it to you no matter the time. Day or night. He’s just so excited there’s a GIRL who wants him, his cock, this badly.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Nah. Not really. He’d rather savor the sex, instead of constantly looking over his shoulder. But if you drag him into a storage closet aboard and start massaging him through his leather, who is he to say no?

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Hate to burst any bubbles here, but he’s completely inexperienced, so don’t expect him to last very long, at least not at first. He physically has to tense his muscles, eyes squeezed shut in concentration, trying so hard NOT to blow his load the second your tight wet heat engulfs his cock. His skin is flaming hot, but he’s shivering above you, groans emanating from his slacked jaw, trying to fight the way his balls draw up, the way his stomach muscles tighten already.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Are sex toys canon in Star Wars? Someone please lmk. But my answer is going to be no for now!

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Kylo doesn’t have to tease you, like, at all. You just want him so bad all the time and he still doesn’t understand why. However. You’re quite the tease, and this poor virgin can’t take it. Seriously, if you want to see the mighty Kylo Ren crumble, all you need to do is press a chaste kiss to his lips, put a hand on his thigh, look at him, or just breathe basically, and he’ll be hard and wanting in seconds. I love our space boyfriend.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Ben Swolo can make some NOISE lemme tell ya. It’s all low groans and grunts, so caught up in the heat of your body and how fucking tight you are around him. No matter how hard he tries to contain the noises that slip from his throat, he can’t help it. He’ll confidently moan and moan in your ear, minted breath hitting your cheek, letting you know his pleasure is solely from you, and you alone.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Kylo is what we call a service top. He would do anything to put your pleasure first, his own pleasure depends on that. He had never cum harder than that first time you clamped around his cock, finally feeling your orgasm around him. Lights flickered and whirred; it was…intense.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Hung like a moose omg who said that? Anyways. My guess is 7-8 inches. Good luck girl.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Siri play ‘Everyday’ by Ariana Grande please. Seriously. He feels fucking insane with how bad he wants to be buried in you at all times. Whether he’s tired, beaten or bruised, you could catch a dick anytime.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Kylo will eventually fall asleep cuddled up next to you, but not until he allots himself a few minutes to admire your beauty, running his thick fingers through your hair, kissing your temple until he sees you eyes flutter shut. Awe. Whatta softie.

[sacklerscumrag]

Sunshine (Part 1/2)

single dad!Clyde Logan x nanny!reader

1 of 2

Notes: Hi! I know I haven't written for the ADCU in some time but i have this dad!clyde brainrot and i might as well post it. part 2 is 90% done so I’ll post that sometime soon

I miss being here & I hope everyone is doing well, sending all of you lots of love & thank you for taking time out of your day to read my silly little stories, i appreciate you <3

Warnings: protective girl dad!Clyde, talk about kids, mention of abandonment issues, mother not involved (and will not appear at any point), no mention of y/n, fluff, pining, pervy thoughts from sasquatch, eventual smut in second part (tags will be added), no cliffhanger

Word Count: 7.1K

(this will go back & forth between Clyde's POV & readers POV)

The bar was filled with scattered conversations and the faint sound of jukebox music lingering in the background. It was an otherwise quiet Thursday night at Duck Tape. Clyde busied himself as usual, topping off the regulars and ensuring everyone was settled and satisfied. The calm before the storm, at least until the real crowd rushed in to watch the Friday night game. Being the only bar in a small town meant there was little else to do around here. Clyde never seemed to mind, though; catching familiar faces day in and day out was one of his favorite parts of owning Duck Tape in the first place. Regulars usually required minimal conversation, which was right up Clyde's alley. The most words anyone got out of him other than his siblings was Earl, but he didn't mind. Clyde quickly finished his last prep of the day and glanced around the bar, taking advantage of the slow pace and stepping away into the recluse of his office. He huffed as he shut the door behind him and sank into his lanky chair; a never-ending sea of papers he'd been dodging surrounded him on the worn-out wooden desk. His eyes burned, and his head ached from the tension of another long day. Taking over the bar a couple of years ago definitely tested his limits. He loved it here, but it strained the already little energy he had left to go on about his day. So much had changed in Clyde's life in the past few years alone. From becoming a father to being the new proud owner of Duck Tape due to the Heist, plus there was-. The Heist, the words halted his train of thought as memories came and went.

The biggest risk any of them had taken in their life landed all three Logans with more financial security than they knew what to do with; plus, if anything was going to convince Clyde that the Logan family curse was finally broken, it sure as hell was how swiftly they had gotten away with all of it. But none of that really mattered. Sure, it was more than nice not to think about how he would pay off the next bill or where his next meal would come from, but he couldn't help but look around and feel like something was missing. Maybe someone to share it with woulda been nice, he thought to himself. Jimmy had Sylvia, Mellie had Joe, and well, he had his Sunshine. He mentally kicked himself at the apparent self-doubt clouding his mind; Clyde had more than enough to be grateful for. But a small part of him couldn't help but yearn.

It's not like Clyde was a stranger when it came to love. Sure, it's not something he thinks he's ever experienced, but he was sure he saw it with Jimmy and Sylvia. What they had was enough to convince him there was something more out there. Clyde just wasn't entirely sure he deserved whatever that was. He would live the rest of his life longing for something he couldn't quite put his finger on, and that's just another obstacle in his life he had come to terms with.

Clyde's train of thought quickly faded when he heard the office door click open behind him, making him turn in his chair. Dark, luscious curls crawled their way onto his lap, and small arms stretched around his waist. The discomfort from a long workday quickly melted away as giggles filled his ears. Mellie trailed into the office, following a giggling Lyla, who had already captured her dad in an embrace.

Clyde took a moment to tussle Lyla's hair slightly, making her giggle even louder. The way she fit into his lap took him back to a time when she was nothing but a wailing newborn cradled in his arms while the uncertainty of being thrown into fatherhood haunted him. It wasn't like he had much of a choice. It was not like his head was in the right place either, with the too-embarassing-to-admit heartbreak, confusion, and, no doubt, fear consuming him. A one-night stand he was sure he'd never hear from again turned into a small note tied with a pink ribbon to a baby carrier on his doorstep nine months or so later. He was young, dumb, and with no time to process any of it, but before he knew it, there she was. All big brown eyes and grabby hands, looking back at him like he hung the moon, and from that moment on, Clyde knew his life would change forever.

"Hey, Sunshine." Clyde drawled, and Lyla smiled while babbling to him about her day with her favorite aunt. Mellie smiled at the sight of her eager niece, sparing no detail of their girl's day spent at the salon.

"You good if I head on out?" Mellie said as soon as Lyla let her get a word in.

"Yeah, was jus' finishin' up here n' headin' home."

"Alright. Don't stay too late now. Night, you two." Lyla wrapped herself around Mellie's legs in a tight hug before saying her goodnight and reluctantly seeing her out the door.

"Ready to go, Sunshine?" Lyla nodded towards her dad and practically sprinted toward the front door. Something told him Mellie let her niece have more sugar before bed than he would usually allow, and something else told him he would be the one to pay for it later.

------------

As the busier weeks of the year followed with football season being at its peak, Clyde had just about had it. Another night at Duck Tape dragged on, minutes feeling like hours. Clyde was nearing his limit between the higher volume of patrons than usual and being understaffed with just two servers on the floor for the third night in a row. He hadn't even realized what time it was. And it wasn't just tonight; everything was starting to blur together as of late—never-ending odd hours at the bar in between quality time playing whatever princess Lyla was currently obsessing over, all while making sure he was always home just in time to read a bedtime story and tuck her into bed. Clyde was losing it. It's not like he thought things would get easier as Lyla got older, but damn, he could use a break.

And he sure as hell wasn't comfortable leaving Lyla in any sort of childcare yet, so help came from the people he loved the most. Mellie was always around to spend time with her niece, taking Lyla to the salon whenever possible, while Jimmy and Sylvia were happy to step in when they could. Clyde knew how lucky he was, having his family rally around him and step up whenever he needed them. He never did like to impose his troubles on them, knowing they had their own lives to take care of. Always making sure he was on time to pick Lyla up straight after work and spending his days off with her, attending endless tea parties along with movie nights where every stuffed animal she could fit would join them on the couch beside them in the small trailer they shared.

Clyde found himself overwhelmed by the daily chaos more often than he'd like to admit. But the truth is, he had grown to depend on her just as much as she did on him. Her smiles brightened even his darkest days. Listening to Lyla talk about the things she loves, whispering 'I love you, and snuggling before bed every night kept him going no matter how exhausted he was. He wouldn't trade it for the world.

But late at night, when Lyla was finally asleep and the world was a little quieter, Clyde's thoughts always seemed to be a little louder. It was the only time when he didn't have to have all the answers or act like everything wasn't weighing on him as heavily as it was, where not a single person depended on or needed something from him. Nothing else to do but sink into the couch, crack his favorite beer open, and drift off to sleep, only to wake up the next day and do it all over again.

"C'mon Clyde. A couple drinks with ya favorite brother, plus ya can use the night out. Syl's got her." Jimmy insisted, breaking Clyde out of his haze. Clyde huffed; the poor guy just wanted his brother to let off some steam, and he understood that. He was thankful his brother always looked out for him in his own way, but he couldn't give in. Not again. He winced slightly at the memory of the last time he indulged in a reckless drunk night out and how it ended with Lyla on his doorstep. Not that he regrets any of it, of course. He'd do it again a million times if it meant ending up with Lyla every time. But there was no denying the exhaustion that plagued him since that day. Long days and sometimes nights at the bar, followed by a never-ending list of chores, along with a more than needy kiddo constantly yanking at his leg, awaited him at home.

" 'S alright. 'M jus' stressed, been workin' nonstop, jus' wanna get home to Sunshine." Clyde put on a strained smile as he wiped down the bar top for the night. He couldn't bring himself to justify spending any of his spare time away from his girl. Having his family watch Lyla was always more of a necessity; how could he ask more of them? Just so he could kick back a few beers and feel like shit about it tomorrow? No, thank you, Clyde thought to himself. Jimmy let up as their attention was drawn away toward the door, chiming as Mellie sauntered into Duck Tape and scurried right up to the bar beside her brother.

"Guess what?" Mellies shoots Clyde a knowing smirk while bouncing on her feet excitedly.

"What?" Clyde managed to keep his tone steady, reluctantly ready to hear whatever Mellie was plotting after having to fight Jimmy off for the last hour about him 'loosenin' up,' whatever the hell that meant.

"I found ya a babysitter for the summer. Or is a nanny that ya needed? Oh well, whatever it is, I found her." She pulls out one of the bar stools and takes a seat. Clyde sets down the rag and takes a deep breath before looking back at Mellie, silently urging her to continue. "An' before ya say anythin', she's a real close friend; met her a couple years back at the salon, and she just moved back into town; she'd be perfect for this."

"Takin care of Lyla isn't something for one of your little friends, Mel." Clyde didn't mean to sound so condescending. Especially when his little sister was only trying to make his life easier, but he couldn't help himself. With the amount of time this person would spend with his daughter, Clyde needed someone he could trust. He prided himself in always wanting what was best for his Sunshine; her care was no exception.

"C'mon Clyde. Ya need the help, and she's a good one, I swear. Great with kids, and you can trust her." He sighed. "Just meet her before you make any decisions...please?" Clyde knew there was no talking Mellie out of anything, especially when her mind was made up like this. Plus, if he was being honest with himself, he was desperate. He didn't trust many people where Lylas was concerned, and that made the picking for her nanny or even a babysitter slim to none in this small town. As much as he hated to admit it, he needed this. And if Mellie trusted her, well, that would have to be good enough for him. For now.

"Fine. I'll meet her. When were ya thinkin'?" Mellie beamed a smile at him before checking her phone as a text message came through.

"Is now a good time?" Clyde's dazed look only amused Mellie further as she turned to the front door. "There she is!" Mellie hollered toward you, waving so you'd join them.

Clyde's eyes felt like they were damn near ready to fall right out of his head. If the word 'trouble' had a picture next to it in the dictionary, he was sure it'd look a lot like you, all dolled up in jeans that looked like they'd been drawn on and worn-down cowboy boots as you confidently strutted your way toward him. All bright eyes and delicious curves taking up all of his attention and then some. Clyde's grip tightened, practically digging his fingernails painfully into his palm. He couldn't remember the last time he reacted so strongly to someone. Pretty girls strolling in and out of Duck Tape were a rarity; he never bothered to give them a second look, let alone a first one. A hazy introduction later, you extended your hand towards him, and he swore he could feel lightning crackle through his veins at the warmth of your palm, immediately kicking himself for being so affected by you so quickly. Get it together, asshole, he told himself. This was going to be a long night.

---------

Mellie embraced you warmly and dragged you toward the two men staring daggers at you from the bar. It felt odd when she texted you out of the blue to meet her and the parent of the child you might or might not be taking care of this summer at some bar, but you didn't question it. Mellie always came with surprises. You happily greeted Jimmy, recalling the second Logan and his little girl from when you visited Mel's salon while he was fixing up the place last summer. In the short time you spent in this small town, the Logans always had their own way of making you feel right at home.

"Hi." You introduced yourself to the man behind the bar top, trying not to let his stern gaze affect you. His broad shoulders and handsome face made your breath hitch from the moment you first saw him. And if he kept looking at you like he was, you weren't sure your knees wouldn't buckle on the spot.

"Clyde, this is my friend I was tellin' ya about." Mellie cautiously glared at her seemingly rigid brother before looking back at you. "This is my brother, Clyde, Lyla's dad." You offered him a warm smile and extended a hand toward him. Clyde stiffened further, eyes darting between you; his large palm engulfed yours.

"Hm. Nice to meet ya." He offered you a tight smile and briefly shook your hand, practically snatching it away. Your skin suddenly missed his warmth, but you shook away the slight disappointment at his apparent disinterest.

"Clyde, don't be rude. Sorry, he's not a real people person." Mellie scolded him and turned toward you. "So ya still interested in that babysittin' gig? Lord knows my brother here could use the help." Clyde's eyes shot up and glared at Mellie, silently wishing the ground would swallow him whole so he could be spared the embarrassment his little sister was already putting him through.

"I don't know. Is it still available?" You glanced at Clyde teasingly, hoping to ease whatever tension had manifested between the three of you in the last five minutes.

"Yes. No." Clyde scrambled to gather his thoughts before continuing. "It is I just...I'd like to see ya spend time with her first. See how ya are with her n all that.'' He sighed. This wasn't the way this was supposed to go. He was supposed to find a nanny, get through the summer, and life could go on like it had been. Instead, he felt so flustered that he couldn't even string a simple sentence together if his life depended on it.

"I can come over sometime this week to spend some time with her. If it doesn't feel like a good fit for you, you have no obligation to hire me." You made sure to sneak in that last part before he could change his mind. Clyde nodded towards you appreciatingly.

"How's tomorrow afternoon? Round 1? I can drop her off after my shift." Mellie chimed in before Clyde could stumble over any more of his words.

"Tomorrow it is, then." You nodded and received a barely there smile from the grumpy bartender. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all.

-----

The next day arrived much faster than Clyde realized. He typically looked forward to his mornings off, sharing a big plate of burnt bacon with Lyla while sprawling on the couch watching morning cartoons. Instead, he spent most of his morning distracted. Even when Lyla rambled about what was playing on the television, Clyde's mind wandered back to you. It's not like he'd gotten much sleep either, with the thought of seeing you again running through is mind late at night. What was supposed to be a quick shower ended with Clyde's hand gripping his cock, images of you pressed up against him, droplets of water streaming down your breasts as he drove into you and pressed his warm body on yours. It wasn't long before he felt himself spill on his hand, and harsh reality set in. Clyde hated himself over it. He was going to be your employer, for fucks sake. He'd barely met you for more than ten minutes, and already he was over here pining and touching himself like some hormone-crazed teenager with a crush. Thankfully, it wasn't long before Mellie swung by to pick Lyla up, promising her another one of their girls' days at the salon. Lyla quickly got ready, and after seeing her out the door and waving the two off, Clyde managed to peel himself off the couch and headed over to the bar.

From there, the morning dragged like no other. Clyde spent most of it sitting in his office, trying not to think about the fact that you'd walk through those doors any second. He always found it easy to throw himself into work, put everything else aside, and focus on what needed to get done. But every time he tried, there you were. There was no way he'd be able to do this. Spending more time with you? If he felt this out of control after one day, how would he be able to be any sort of normal around you all summer? He couldn't; he had to end this today. You would understand; Mellie said this job wasn't all that serious for you anyway. You could go back to wherever you came from, and he could finally get something done without thinking about how your hand felt on his last night. Or how badly he wanted to trace the soft skin on your collarbone or how your smile warmed his heart with a familiarity he somehow already craved.

Clyde didn't get too far into his bar prep when the doors to Duck Tape swung open. Lylas skipped inside, Mellie following closely behind her. She stumbled while trying to climb one of the bar stools, making Clyde exit the bar quickly and taking her in his arms.  

"Gon' hurt ya self there, Sunshine." Lyla giggled, the bar stool wobbling underneath her before Clyde set her on the ground. Just as Mellie said her goodbyes and headed out, the door opened, but this time, Clyde could've sworn he felt his heart skip a beat at the sight.

-------

Your morning had been nothing short of hectic after changing your outfit an endless amount of times. Not to mention spilling coffee on your shirt once you'd managed to settle on something. You quickly shoved that aside and mustered whatever courage you had left to head over to the bar. A short drive later, you walked into Duck Tape at precisely one o'clock to find Clyde standing beside an adorable little girl looking up at him with a guilty look on her face.

"Now I know Aunt Mellie gave ya candy at the salon; that's enough for today, sunshine." Lyla pouted slightly as you listened in. Clyde said a quick hi and crouched beside her when he noticed you standing there. Lyla wrapped herself around her dad's legs when she spotted you.

"Lyla, this is Aunt Mellie's friend. The one I told ya about." Clyde waited cautiously for his daughter's response. As you knelt on the floor in front of the pair, you were met with wild chestnut curls and doe-brown eyes on the cutest kid you've ever seen.

"Nice to meet you, Lyla." The little girl retracted shyly into her dad's embrace. Your eyes landed on the coloring book and plastic crayon box she cradled in her hands. "That's a nice princess coloring book you got there. Rapunzel is my favorite, ya know."

"Rapuzel's my favorite too." Lyla mumbled, chocolate button eyes hesitantly landing on you.

"No way! Her dress has both of my favorite colors, purple and pink."

"Those are mine too! Daddy got me a 'punzel dress, and he lets me wear it all the time when we have tea parties 'n stuff." You could've sworn Clyde's cheeks flushed slightly like the doting dad you could already see he was.

"I bet he does." You smiled over at Clyde. Thinking about this large man playing pretend princess and having tea parties with his daughter had your heart swirling with emotions you were sure shouldn't be there in the first place. You didn't know why that warmed your heart the way it did, but you brushed it off as you offered to color with her, and Lyla practically dragged you toward the back of the bar.

The next hour was spent with the both of you huddled in a corner booth while Clyde kept busy around the bar. You talked endlessly about her extensive knowledge of every single princess, colored a couple of pages, and even earned a few giggles.

Clyde wiped down the bar for what he was sure was the millionth time. There was minimal on the to-do list for today, but he would busy himself here as long as it took if it meant keeping an eye on you two. It's not like you needed it; he didn't need to be there to know you were hitting it off with Lyla. The chatter had been nonstop since you sat at the booth; you engaged seamlessly with her. Listening intently to every word while keeping her entertained. He noticed his daughter was just as entranced with you as he was. This was a good thing, wasn't it? He had to admit he miscalculated your ability in all of this when you first met. Clyde felt terrible about how closed off he'd been last night. Here you were, all bright-eyed and ready to help, and there he was, the usual grey cloud raining on everybody's parade the first chance he got. At least, that's how he assumed everyone saw him.

Clyde was refilling some bottles from the bar when Jimmy called, letting him know he was outside. He signaled over to Lyla, who was beyond excited to spend the rest of her day with her uncle and cousin Sadie. You helped her gather her things before Jimmy took Lyla in his arms. One "Bye, Daddy!" and a wave from Clyde later, and it was just the two of you in the ample bar space.

"So how'd I do, bossman?" you asked as Clyde stepped out from behind the bar. His large frame coming into full view was enough to make a girl swoon on the spot. You attempted to reign in whatever self-control you could gather, well enough to take a step toward him without feeling like a giddy schoolgirl. Clyde remained silent for a moment before you felt the need to speak.

"Look, I know it must be hard to just trust a stranger with all this. And I know I'm not the most qualified person out there. But I'm a hard worker and punctual; playing princesses and tea parties happens to be my specialty. Plus, I can make anything into a game." You could've sworn you saw a hint of a smirk on Clyde's handsome face.

"She seems to like you." Warmth blossomed in your chest at the compliment. Lyla was a smart kid and funny, too. You knew it would be hard not to fall in love with the little rascal from the moment you met.

"Well, I like her too, so that's a plus." Clyde felt his entire body tense up at your newfound proximity. From here, he could see the flush of your lips and the captivating color in your eyes, like two pools he would happily drown in. Your warm smile drew him in until he found himself needing to be closer to you than what was deemed appropriate. And to hear you talking so sweetly about his sunshine? His heart felt like it could burst out of his chest, but he quickly compelled that away to unpack another day.

"Can ya start tomorrow? I have a late shift bein' a sports night n all." Clyde attempted to shake his thoughts away. He had to try at least to pretend like he hadn't spent the better part of his shift taking longing glances at you, admiring the way your white tee and jeans fit your curves in a way that made sure he'd have to walk around with a semi and adjust his pants for the rest of the day.

"Sure thing. Your place?" Clyde nods and gives you a time and address.

--------

The next several weeks were filled with endless princess gatherings, storytelling from faraway lands, coloring for hours on end, and whatever adventure Lyla would conjure up that day. She warmed up to you almost instantly; things were going great. Better than great, sometimes, you had to question if this was really your job with how much fun you were having. Lyla was witty, smart, and had an imagination to be envied. She seemed so free and unapologetically herself in the best way. You could tell she had been raised with an unconditional love any kid could only dream of. It wasn't like the occasional meltdown didn't take place from time to time, being a toddler and all. But you always find a way to bring that smile back to Lyla's face.

Things with Clyde hadn't simmered down in the slightest. Every interaction, every glance, every accidental touch had your yearning growing. Every moment spent together allowed you to quietly admire something new about him. The way his chest filled out those t-shirts he often wore, his hair that begged to have your fingers tangled in it, or even how he pursed his lips in that way that had your core clenching whenever he spoke. Not to mention, seeing him with Lyla made your knees weak. This gentle giant's soft demeanor melted your heart while twisting your insides in the most delicious way. Still, Lyla kept you more than busy; otherwise, you'd spend your days daydreaming about Clyde Logan. Today was no different. Building forts and baking cookies had been the first thing on the itinerary, and knowing Lyla, there was always more to come. When she'd finally fallen asleep watching Cinderella on the couch, you carefully tucked her into her bed and quietly exited the room, shutting the door just as Clyde entered the trailer.

"Hey." You whispered as Clyde set down his stuff and went to the kitchen. "I just put her to bed."

"Thanks. Sorry, 'M late. Bar kept gettin' crazy n' I just couldn't get away. It's-" You cut him off by placing a hand on his arm, feeling him tense under you.

"Clyde, it's okay. That's what I'm here for, remember?" You winked at him before walking toward the kitchen to put away the rest of the dishes. Clyde headed to the fridge and pulled out two beers. Your cheeks warmed, watching him lean over with one sturdy arm on the fridge door, the muscles on his back rippling under the worn-down t-shirt while the two bottles fit snuggly in his large hand. Get it together, you told yourself, forcing your gaze away.

"Beer?" Clyde gestured toward you. "I was jus' gonna have one on the porch." The words tumbled from his mouth without realizing. He knew it was a bad idea, but he couldn't help himself. You looked all comfortable, your books and blanket on his couch, standing here in his kitchen, in his home, moving around like you belonged there. But Clyde wasn't stupid; his head was definitely playing tricks on him. There wasn't a universe that existed where a woman as beautiful as you would be interested in a guy like him, and he understood that. Now the only problem was keeping his heart and dick in check long enough to be professional. 

The night sky was decorated with stars against the black abyss, quiet and still. Just the two of you sitting in comfortable silence. Clyde followed you outside, shutting the door quietly. You sat beside him, legs folded comfortably in the porch chairs as he handed you a cold beer. 

"So, how was everythin'?" He said before taking a swig of his beer, the soft rumble of his voice activating those darn butterflies in your stomach already.

"Great. Pretty sure she tried on every princess dress in her closet and saw Frozen at least ten times. We danced, sang, and even built a fort." You found yourself smiling at the memory of Lyla with a mismatched dress and crown belting 'Let It Go' with you while jumping around her room. "Same old, same old."

"Mhm." Clyde relaxed further into his seat. The more time you spent with him, the more apparent it became that he was a man of few words. Still, you appreciated the ones he was willing to share with you. 

"It was a good day; it always is." You noticed Clyde stretched his left arm before him as if irritated by it. 

"Mind if I take this off?" The words tumbled out before Clyde could stop them, the beer loosening his tongue. Clyde wasn't sure why he suddenly felt comfortable enough around you to remove his prosthesis. He was pretty sure the people closest to him hadn't even seen him without it. Although it shouldn't surprise him, his sense of ease around you only grew within the last couple of weeks.

"Go ahead." Clyde hesitated for a second, then carefully removed his prosthetic, massaging the tender spot. Your eyes scanned the newly exposed skin. "Does it hurt?" Clyde paused his movement and huffed. You cleared your throat, the day's exhaustion clearly eliminating whatever filter you had left. "Sorry. I didn't mean to-forget I said anything." 

"'S alright. Served two tours n' ended with this. 'N no, not really, not all the time, at least. Jus' bothers having this thing on all day." You nodded, understanding it was something still difficult for him to talk about.

"You don't have to ask, you know? To take it off. I wouldn't want you to be uncomfortable for no reason." Clyde smiled while nursing his beer. When he looked over, he found your eyes tracing the scars left behind on his arm. Clyde reached for his sleeve, suddenly feeling the need to cover up, before you placed your hand on his arm, stopping him. "Is this okay?" Clyde gulped and gave a slight nod. He wasn't sure if it was the exposed flesh or how vulnerable this whole thing felt, but he swore he could feel every nerve on his body light up under your touch. Your fingers lightly outlined the scar for a moment before you smiled at him, settled back into your chair, and sipped your beer. 

"Mellie dropped by today, and I meant to ask you if I should know of anyone coming by to see Lyla other than your siblings. Friends maybe? Her mom?" You snuck in that last part before you could stop yourself; the last thing you wanted to do was overstep. But you were curious. Lyla never mentioned her, and you didn't notice any pictures of her around the house. Was she a good mom? Was she pretty? She had to be to be Lyla's mom. Did she still hang around? Would she like you hanging around? Maybe she wouldn't want you getting all close to Clyde. Hush that is none of your business, you told yourself.

"Lyla's mom isn't in the picture. Never was. She jus' about dropped Lyla at my doorstep 'n we never heard from her again. Didn't want nothin' to do with her or me, said so in the letter she left." His words spliced across your heart, and tears welled in your eyes for the little girl sleeping soundly inside. Just thinking about someone walking away from an angel like that with such carelessness had you wanting to find this woman with your fist immediately.

"So, you two never?" Clyde shook his head almost as if you'd insulted him.

"It was a one-time thing. A drunken night full of bad choices, 'N then she disappeared. Popped back up again with Lyla, and that was it. Letters last I heard from her." Clyde said. "Not that I wanted her to come back. I don't. We've been jus' fine just us two." 

"I don't doubt that for a second." 

-----------

The following Sunday morning came with blue skies and warm summer air. Clyde insisted you'd take Sundays for yourself, although you weren't sure why. It's not like you had any other friends around here besides Mel, not to mention a social life being out of the question. When you weren't with Lyla, plans usually consisted of staying at home with a good book and getting chores done. You were gathering your things to lay out in the sun for a bit when Mellie called about being overbooked at the salon and Clyde having an emergency at the bar and asked if you could watch Lyla for the day. A few minutes later, you managed to put together an easy picnic basket, threw a shirt and shorts over your bathing suit, and headed out the door.

A short drive and only two knocks on the trailer later, Lyla ran out, wrapping both arms around your legs in a tight hug. She quickly pulled you inside to find Clyde sitting on the couch with cartoons playing faintly in the background. 

"Hi." The morning rasp in his voice had your chest tightening and face flushing. He wore a faded t-shirt and simple dark gray sweats that you had to fight not to stare at. "I tried callin'. Ya didn't have to come, everythin's been takin care of."

"Oh. My phone must still be on do not disturb from last night or something. I was gonna take Lyla to the lake for a picnic and maybe a swim." Lyla's face immediately perked up as she squealed excitedly.

"I'm gonna go get my swimsuit on!" She yelled as she tried to run off into the hall before Clyde stopped her.

"Now, sunshine, today's her day off."

"What's that mean?" Lyla's disappointment grew along with the pout on her face. 

"Means she's got stuff to do, stuff she's gotta get done today. She'll be back tomorrow, hm?" Lyla reluctantly nodded as Clyde placed a kiss on her forehead.

"Well," you interjected, unsure if it was your place to say something, but there was no way you could stand by and disappoint Lyla like this, especially when spending your days with her had become your favorite thing to do. "If it's okay with your dad, I'd love some company. I can't eat all these PB&J's and snacks I packed alone now, can I?" Lyla looked toward Clyde. A mix of 'please' and 'please, daddy' flooded Clyde's ears before reluctantly giving in to his daughter's whim. Lyla sprinted toward her room to change, mumbling something about showing her water tricks, making you chuckle.

"You're welcome to join us. I packed plenty of food, and it's too nice of a day out to stay inside." Clyde contemplated for a moment. Just the thought of seeing you prancing around in the water in a skin-tight bathing suit had his pants tightening uncomfortably. He wasn't sure he could control himself. But he had the day off and sure as hell didn't want to spend it without his Sunshine. Plus, he wasn't entirely comfortable with the two of you alone by the creek in the woods. It would be safer if he went with you. At least that's what he told himself as he agreed and slipped away to change into his water shorts.

The drive over to the creek went a little faster than usual, thanks to you and Lyla singing along to some of her favorite songs. Clyde spent the entire ride concealing a smirk at the sight of both of you breaking into song and then into a fit of giggles once one of you would get the words mixed up. Once you'd arrived, Clyde wasted no time unloading the truck and helping a restless Lyla get out of her seat. You found the perfect shady spot to set up the blanket and laid out some things from the picnic basket; once satisfied, you set your shorts and shirt to the side and settled in. Lyla wasted no time hitting the water, barely letting you slather some sunscreen before sprinting off with her floatie. You sat by the shore with your book, watching her splash around. The cool water around your legs is a nice relief from the sun's warmth on your skin. Clyde sat back against the tree, keeping his eyes on the two of you. He couldn't help but imagine if this was what it would be like—having someone by his side sharing moments like these with Lyla. 

The afternoon passed far too quickly. A blur of splashes and fits of laughter ended with a sleepy Lyla slung on her dad's shoulders as you packed everything back into the truck and headed out. As the sun dipped below the horizon, the fleeting colors of dusk began to fade away. Only the rumble of the truck and crickets chirping surrounded by the night sky remained. Lyla's soft snores could be heard from behind as you glanced over at Clyde. The soft moonlight reflected off his skin, hair still slightly damp from the creek. His eyes were trained on the road ahead, but you could tell something was on his mind as he chewed on the inside of his cheek.

You sat comfortably on the passenger seat, your thigh dangerously close to his hand resting on the gear. His fingers itched to reach over, wondering how soft your flesh would feel under his touch. No matter how hard it was to keep a calm facade, he couldn't help but recall the silky skin over your bathing suit top, curves he would kill to trace every inch of it with his tongue teasing him from every angle. Even the way your teeth caught on your lip in the most sinful way was driving him insane. Everything about today was driving him insane. Not to mention watching you with his Sunshine. How you'd dramatically play along to every scenario Lyla created until you were nothing but a fit of giggles, watching in awe as you smothered her in hugs and kisses every time she'd swim into your arms. His sunshine was an affectionate girl, don't get him wrong. But she sure as hell didn't open up easily to strangers, yet here you were, winning her over from day one. Clyde shook away the ache in his heart at the thought as he redirected his attention back to the road.

A short while later, you'd arrived back at Clyde's. He hopped out of the car just after you did, carrying a passed-out Lyla in his arms into the house. You stayed outside, wondering if you should wait for him to return or count your losses and hurry home. Before you could make up your mind, Clyde appeared and shut the door quietly behind him, leaving the two of you uncomfortably close on his front porch.

"Thank ya for today." The faulty lamp above you did little against the night.

"It's no problem," you said before a silence fell between you. The dim light accentuated his nose and the plumpness of his lips in the most beautiful way. His eyes drifted up to yours as you took a tentative step toward him. Your heart began to pound, chests nearly pressed against one another, feeling a familiar desire spread in your core. Clyde's breathing grew heavier, suddenly aching to get you closer.

Just as the longing became unbearable, he closed the gap between your mouths, first with the utmost gentleness, then with the hunger of a starved man. You made a delicious little sound and responded with the same fervor, sparking a fire in his belly. He didn't want it to stop. The warmth of his mouth had you melting into him. Your lips parted slightly as his hand came up loosely at the side of your neck, holding you close.

"Daddy!" Lyla's distant voice rang in your ears. Clyde pulled away suddenly; a rush of frigid air replaced the warmth where his body was pressed up against you. It was as if a bucket of cold water had been poured over the two of you, snapping you back into your harsh reality. Lyla began to cry from what was probably a nightmare. Clyde sighed as he looked toward the front door and back to you. You cleared your throat and wrapped your sweatshirt tighter around, unable to look him in the eye after he'd practically kissed you dizzy.

"I should go. Goodnight, Clyde." You offered him a warm smile and dashed to your car before he could say anything else. Clyde stood with his head slightly hung, ensuring you were safely in the driver's seat before heading inside. You lowered the windows in an attempt to let the humid summer night air free from inside, hoping a little fresh air would snap you out of whatever trance Clyde had just put you under. Butterflies swarmed in your stomach as you ran your fingers along your lips, the ghost of his kiss still buzzing through you on the drive home.

[reveluving]

red lipstick ; adam driver characters headcanons

summary: because what’s sexier than seeing you in red lipstick? 💄

warnings: fluff, humour, slightly explicit (minors DNI!)

a/n: on an ADCU spree so I figured it’s the best time to write my own, courtesy of @safarigirlsp​ & @in-silks-and-flesh-and-leather​ for continuously feeding my obsession hehe! pls pls pls give their work some extra love!! and don’t forget to leave some sugar! ᐠ( ᐛ )ᐟ

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✧･ﾟ Jacques Le Gris

Le Gris' own presence exudes confidence, ferocity, and allure, and his lady is no different. What better way to show the men who envy him the same way the ladies do with you than by bringing you the best of the best? He will settle for nothing less, especially when it comes to your comfort and the like, and he will know if they're not up to par.

Old-timey Jacques will indirectly criticize the maiden in charge, knowing they probably did so to make you seem 'less appealing' to your very own lover, but many seem to forget that he was extremely smart just as he was your doting husband. Just a quick exile over here, a simple repeat of his demand for the best over there and boom, he's back to being happy ol' Le Gris. Modern Jacques is no different, for he would easily purchase the shades you'd swatch and hum to yourself, knowing if he heard how much you liked it, he'd buy the whole store for you. Do you want them personalised, too? Go right on ahead!

And that's not a threat, it's a promise.

“You should never settle for anything less, ma chérie. I shall not allow it.” He’d chime in as soon as he sees your eyes sparkle at the new case with both wonderment and guilt. If you offer to repay him for his endless gifts, he will ask for your kisses, complete with the new set he’s given you, but ever the lover boy that he is, you know good and well it won’t end with just kisses.

✧･ﾟ Flip Zimmerman

Ever heard of the saying "the fortune favours the bold"? He doesn't need to hear from Stallworth that Flip has in fact 'loosen up' upon being graced by your existence. He does, however, preen in the knowledge that since knowing you, he's become bold. Well, bolder than he already was. Where has uncertainty brought him in life? But as much as he'd like to deny till the end of time, he's nearly done it before.

Keyword: nearly.

The day you met, he wondered if he had died in a shootout and met hell's personal It girl—no angel could pull off the devil's shade with pride the way you do. Had he continued to mask his hesitancy by returning your undeterred gaze, he'd be the biggest fool for letting you go.

He'd clock in work with your lipstick stains if he could. Public indecency be damned! He'd fight everyone and anyone if he hears another person talk about it as a form of embarrassment.

"S'not my fault you don't have a pretty girl to come home to." He'd shrug, though the wolfish smile told the poor bastard everything that he felt. Was he wrong? No. Was he going to fight Flip for publicly embarrassing him with the truth? Absolutely not; your husband would probably knock him out before the guy could even land a hit.

✧･ﾟ Clyde Logan

To think there were more red lipstick shades than he could count with his good hand. In all honesty, he really doesn't have a favourite nor does it matter if it's even red or not. That's not to say he doesn't care because clearly, he does, but only in the sense that it makes you happy. You are the professional in this particular field, after all. But best believe the happiness that heightens in him whenever you'd ask for his opinion.

Still, the colour red does, however, as the current generation says, 'hits different'. Unsubtle glances from his patrons were a normal occurrence but they never got any easier by the day. But, on the other hand? He’s the lucky son of a gun who gets to call you ‘his’.

But the man loves his kisses, and kisses he will get! With your frequent visits to the bar, you'll never let this man work without at least a peck on the cheek. Seeing his signature pout lift to the bashful smile we know and love (the audacity) takes no effort.

“Y’know just how to make a man happy, sugar.” He’d murmured against your lips, his sudden boldness not surprising you but instead, his customers, who were only giving him shit but also openly ogling at you not too long ago.

✧･ﾟ Kylo Ren

Whether you think of our ol’ touch-starved leader, the vampire, the knight, or whatever suits your fancy, Kylo will want nothing more than the top-notch of things for his darling, and your preference for lipstick shouldn’t be any different! He, in a way, is an embodiment of red—his passion for both his belief, his interest, and especially, his devotion to you. So, to see the very same colour he associates closely with, other than black, be embraced as your very own as well? He shouldn’t be surprised that most, if not all of his elation are sourced from you in general.

He’s a busy man, but he will not miss the opportunity to watch you apply your colour of the day with great care. He’s unconsciously smiling, lost in your melodic hum as his vow to keep you out of harm’s way grows stronger. He’s been through hell and back to survive, and he’d have no problem doing the same it’s to ensure you leave the danger zone unscathed. So, if something as simple as red lipstick makes you happy, then don’t be surprised if you see a new one even before your current one runs out.

And although all kisses are good kisses, don’t think he won’t pull you in for a real one once the smooching fest starts. You’re worried about leaving a stain? Don’t be! His men/subordinates don’t have the balls to point them out, knowing by doing so is a game over for them.

✧･ﾟ Charlie Barber

The man eats, sleeps, and breathes art, so it's knowing his beloved has her very own is a major plus! One would think nothing impresses him anymore, or at least, not as much as his own work, but oh, were they dead wrong. There hasn't been a day where the lipstick holder on your vanity table never makes him puff out his chest with pride. From the simple matte ones he'd buy after a random day at work simply because it reminds him of you, to the high-end bold to burgundy ones personalised with your name engraved on the case. C’mon, what harm would it do to him for paying a couple of hundreds for makeup as one of his ways to say thank you to his wife—his muse!

Charlie embraces this as your form of art; the shades, the textures, the right amount of shine or shimmer—just anything that screams you. Artistry performed best by his one and only.

And how could he forget about the polaroids you both have? Yours which has him covered in your lipstick stains and face in absolute bliss? His which were you kissing the area close to his happy trail, leaving the same shade colour to his toned body?

Yes, your husband's in paradise, indeed.

✧･ﾟ Commander Mills

Another hunk who really just finds your confidence in whichever you find is best is more than enough, because what's better than his girl's own joy? Even so, if red really speaks to you, then don't be surprised he takes advantage of it. If the numerous times you've caught him staring at your lips and even shamelessly holding your gaze doesn't tell you anything, then the instance he wraps his arms around you for a little while longer before pressing his lips onto yours definitely should.

And if we're talking about the whole time-travelling shebang and somehow, you had to make your own lipstick? Wowie. This man will scour every nook and cranny for the ingredients if you asked him to. Best believe he will find what you need!

If it means getting the opportunity to see you do your thing in your colour and being able to wipe off the accidental smear just after you've applied it, that man is on a mission.

˚ · . f i n . · ˚

You can tell that I lost my roll towards the end HAHAHA but if you’re wondering what lipstick in particular inspired me to write this, it’s:

ETUDE Fixing Tint in Analog Rose/Vintage Red

Dior Rouge Dior Lipstick in 999

Stunna Lip Paint Longwear Fluid Lip Color in Uncensored

PERIPERA Ink Airy Velvet in Full Red Brick (11)

[littlelioncub43]

Me giggling whilst reading this masterpiece:

I love it, my goodness. Ya got me blushing at my phone like a weirdo hehehehehhehehe

100000/10, I loved every minute of it.

Some People Just Need A Little Pampering (Clyde Logan x F!Reader)

Mellie always cut Clyde’s hair. That how it had been his whole life, ever since she was old enough to read her fashion magazines and wield a pair of scissors. All throughout school Clyde sported the latest in Mellie’s favorite hair styles. When he reached high school and started growing his hair out to cover his ears, Mellie still insisted on being the one to trim it. When they’d sit at home, waiting on Jimmy to come up with another cauliflower scheme, Mellie would busy herself with Clyde’s hair, practicing her braids and using her new irons to try and master the art of curling hair. 

This was why, when Clyde found himself standing in the middle of the hair salon with no Mellie in sight, he figured he would come back another time. He paused for a second, calling out a hesitant, “Mellie?”, and cringing at the way his voice broke when he raised it. Clyde waited a few seconds for a response and when he got none he took it as his sign to leave. Spinning on his heels, Clyde grabbed the handle to the door, trying to get out as quickly as he could and avoid any awkward encounters. He’d just drive home and call Mellie up when he got there, to see if she’d be around the salon tomorrow. Just as he was opening the door, he heard a voice coming from behind him. 

“‘xcuse me, sorry ‘bout that. I was in the back. I thought I heard you callin’ for Mellie, she had to run out real quick but I’m sure she’ll be back soon. In the meantime why don’ you have a seat an’ wait for her. Or if it’s somethin’ simple you need I’m sure I can handle it.”

Clyde felt himself freeze in the doorway, that voice was something magical, sweet and warm like honey. He turned around, trying with no avail to force down the blush that was creeping up his neck. He was grateful that his hair was so long, it covered his neck and his ears, both of which he was sure were very red. It was then Clyde realized that turning around wasn’t really going to help his situation. The woman that accompanied that delightful voice was lovelier than Clyde could’ve imagined. Right as he pulled himself together and was fixing to say something to this pretty little angel he found, she opened her mouth again. A blush dancing across her soft cheeks, she stuck out her hand, “My goodness, I completely forgot, my name is Y/N.” Clyde stared at her hand before raising his prosthetic up as if to show her he couldn’t really shake too well. Her smile didn’t falter for a second as she put her arm down in favor of reaching out with the other. Clyde bit back a smile as he took her hand in his and shook, choosing not to focus on the electrifying feeling of her skin on his, “Clyde. I’m Mellie’s brother.” 

Y/N’s bright E/C eyes lit up with understanding, “Ohh so you’re the famous Clyde I been hearin’ so much about.” Clyde felt the heat rising back up to his cheeks and shrugged. “Mellie talks about you and your other brother all the time, Jimmy was it? Anyway, what can I do for ya, Mr. Clyde Logan?”

Stuttering, Clyde tried to explain, “Well, my hair’s been gettin’ a bit long. Thought it might be time for a trim. Mellie’s the only one who cuts my hair though.” 

Y/N nodded, “Oh yeah, I’m sure she knows exactly how you like it then. Well, she stepped out a little while ago but I’m sure it won’t be long now if you just wanna wait for her.”

Clyde started to protest, explaining that he could come back later and didn’t want to be a bother. Laughing, Y/N gestured around the empty room, “As you can see we got a whole lot goin’ on, I’m pretty busy at the moment.” Clyde didn’t know how to respond so he stood there silently while Y/N watched. After a moment she gave his arm a light shove, “Aw c’mon Clyde I’m just teasin’. I don’t think you could ever be a bother to anyone.” She turned away from him at that, though Clyde thought he might’ve caught a blush dusting her cheeks again. “Anyway, you can take a seat wherever you like, or you can give Mellie a quick call if you want. I’ll be around so if you need anything just holler, ok?” 

Clyde nodded and took a seat in the closest chair, watching as Y/N busied herself tidying up the salon. He found he really enjoyed watching her move around the room, she had an air of comfort around her that made everything she did seem natural and right. He was so caught up in watching her that he choked a bit when she turned towards him expectantly. Laughing lightly she asked,“You mind if I put on a little music?” 

Clyde shook his head, praying that his face wasn’t too red though it felt like it was on fire. She giggled and he melted into his chair a little at the sound, “How ‘bout a little Seger, huh?”

He quickly sat back up, “How’d you know?”

She rolled her eyes, the warm smile never leaving her face, “You’re wearin’ his shirt, Clyde.” 

The blush returned to Clyde’s face full force and he knew there was no way of hiding it this time, “Right, yeah, ‘course.” He sputtered, trying to respond to her without making it clear how embarrassed he was, “Yeah, that’d be great. Unless you’re not a fan, you don’t gotta play music for me if you wanna listen to somethin’ else.”

She dismissed his concerns with a wave of her hand, “Who doesn’t like Bob Seger?”. She walked over to the stereo and fussed with it, picking up her phone and scrolling quickly through her music. Clyde heard the strumming of the opening chords to ‘You’ll Accomp’ny Me’ drift out of the speaker. Y/N started humming along, glancing back at Clyde with a small smile and a raised eyebrow, “This good?” Clyde nodded, a smile gracing his own features.

Y/N turned back to her work, shaking her hips to the music as she moved around the salon. Now, Clyde had seen his fair share of women dancing to all sorts of songs at the bar but nothing beat the sight in front of him. He felt his chest fill with something he couldn’t quite place, warmth and longing and who knows what else. He didn’t really want to go falling in love with this pretty little hairdresser but he had a feeling she wasn’t going to give him much choice. Or maybe he’d just been on his own for too long. Paying more attention to Y/N’s hands he noticed she was organizing all sorts of cremes and what looked like some clay in a jar. Before he could even think he was opening his mouth, “What you got in that jar there?”

Y/N hummed in response, glancing at Clyde with her eyebrows raised before looking back down at her hands. She picked up the jar in question, “Oh this? Mellie’s been tryna branch out lately, we’ve been offering little facials and what not.” 

Clyde felt his face contorting with confusion, “Yer puttin’ that on people’s faces? And they pay you fer that?”

Laughing, she set the jar down again and put her hands on her hips, “Yes, they do in fact pay us for this. Have you never done a face mask or nothin’?” The look on Clyde’s face must’ve been enough to answer her question, “Of course, what was I thinkin’. Even with Mellie as a sister, you don’ seem like the type to pamper yourself. You should try it sometime.” 

She turned back to her station, moving a couple of things around before she looked back at Clyde from over her shoulder, “Well c’mon now. Get over here, I’m gonna give you your first facial, on the house.” 

Clyde stayed sitting, “‘re you sure ‘bout that? Won’t Mellie want you savin’ that for real customers?”

Y/N turned back toward Clyde again with a no nonsense look in her pretty little E/C eyes, “You’re family Clyde. And if Mellie did have a problem with it, then I’ll take it out of my pay. Let me treat you Clyde, everyone could use a little pamperin’.” She pulled the cutest puppy dog eyes Clyde had ever seen and he found he couldn’t say no. With a hefty sigh, Clyde stood from his chair and walked over to where Y/N was, her arms splayed out on either side of her with her hands on the counter of her station. 

In a few long strides he was standing directly in front of her, so close he could count each of her pretty little eyelashes. Neither of them said a word, Y/N seemed to be holding her breath as she stared up into his eyes. Clyde held back a chuckle when he saw the heat rising to her face. She averted her eyes and coughed, “Right, so, just take a seat an’ I’ll do the rest, alright?”

He nodded and sat down, eyes on her the whole time. He could tell she was a flustered, and felt a tinge of pride at the knowledge that he had been the cause of such a lovely lady losing her composure. He watched as she went to adjust the volume of the music, ‘In Your Time’ sweetly playing from the speakers, and dim the lights. Without realizing it, Clyde started to sink into his seat, the low lighting, his favorite music, and a pretty girl just itching to take care of him proving to be enough to get him to relax. 

Y/N made her way back over to the station, grabbing a headband from the counter. Leaning over Clyde she slipped the fabric around his head, successfully pushing his hair out of his face. Glancing down at Clyde’s flustered face, she giggled and spoke, in a lower and more relaxing tone than she had before, “Have a little faith, Clyde. Just let yourself enjoy this.” Clyde tried his hardest to keep his face neutral and nodded, though it proved more difficult than he thought when he was eye level with Y/N’s chest and she was saying things like that in that voice. He schooled his features and took a deep breath as Y/N turned back to her station. Clyde continued watching her as she mixed a few of the substances from the jars together before facing him again. When their eyes met she laughed again, a light, breathy sound, and shook her head, “You can close your eyes now, Clyde, I’ll warn ya before I do anythin’.” 

Blushing, Clyde shut his eyes and steered his thoughts towards the music wafting over from the speakers. He heard Y/N take a few steps around him before he heard her speak again, this time from right behind him, “Alright now Clyde, I’m gonna keep it simple for ya since it’s your first time. This is a sugar scrub, it should smell like apricot mainly. Then I’ll do a mud mask, should smell like coconut.” Clyde jumped a little when he felt her fingers dancing on his face but he got used to the sensation very quickly. She gently massaged the scrub on his face and he felt like he was putty in her hands. When she had gotten around his entire face she paused, “I’m gonna quick wipe this off and then apply the mud mask, ok?” Clyde hummed in response, his eyes still closed and his body more relaxed than it had ever been, especially since he’d gotten back to the States. This time, when she slowly started wiping his face off with a warm, damp towel, he didn’t flinch. He basked in the heat of the towel and Y/N’s soft humming. He heard her move to the station, the sound of her fingers lightly tapping the counter and then she was next to him again, “Last step, this is the mud mask part. Now I’m gonna apply it for ya an’ then you can just rest until it dries, just try an’ keep a straight face, okay?”

Clyde hummed in response, keeping his eyes closed and basking in the feeling of calm, “Whatever you say sweetheart.” He opened one eye ever so slightly and got a glimpse of Y/N’s flaming cheeks as she tried to brush off the pet name. Clyde had to make a conscious effort not to smile right then. And who could blame him for being pleased that he could have that effect on such a wonderful little lady. Clyde was glad he had steeled his features when she started applying the mud. At some point she had warmed it up so it was about the same temperature as the towel. It was thick and heavy on his face, smelled like heaven too, and Y/N’s soft fingers were gentle and sweet on his skin. All too soon his face was covered. He felt the touch of Y/N’s fingers leave his face and had to stop himself from following them. 

Y/N coughed slightly, “You can open your eyes now if ya like, or you can keep relaxing that, I’ll be here if you need anything.”

Clyde nodded slightly and continued to lay with his eyes closed. 

Soon he felt his face getting tighter. He opened his eyes and looked around, spotting Y/N in the corner sweeping and moving to the music, “Uh, Y/N is it supposed to feel real tight?”

She paused her work and giggled, “Don’t you worry Clyde, that just means it’s drying. It might be ready to take off, lemme come get a look atchu.” Setting her broom down she practically skipped over to his chair, “Well looky there, you’re cracking. Means we can take it off. Don’t suppose I could get a picture first?”

Clyde looked at himself in the mirror. He looked like a dried up old river in the desert or something, he had no idea why she’d want a picture of him like this. Grey mud ashy and cracking on his face, the purple hair band wrapped around his head, dark hair sticking up from him laying on it funny. He looked back over at Y/N before realizing his mistake. She’d pulled out those damn puppy eyes again, “Now don’t you go makin’ that face at me darlin’. How am I supposed ta say no to you lookin’ like that?”

Her concentration broke as a wide smile bloomed on her face and Clyde swore that sight alone would make him go blind faster than staring at the sun ever could. “Well darn it Clyde, you figured me out pretty quick.” She laughed lightly, “Does that mean I have permission then? I’m sure Mellie’d love to see this, and I certainly don’t mind havin’ pictures of people as good lookin’ as you on my phone.” 

Sputtering, Clyde couldn’t help but ask, “You think I’m good lookin’?” 

The look on Y/N’s face was one of pure confusion, “Now, what kind of question is that? Are you kiddin’ me? ‘Course I do.”

Now Clyde was thankful for the mask, regardless of how crusty he may look at least it covered the blush on his cheeks. 

“I guess someone doesn’t get told he’s handsome quite as often as he should, your ears look like they’re burnin’ up.” Y/N laughed and tucked a strand of hair behind one of Clyde’s ears as he clenched his jaw in an attempt to quell his embarrassment. “Don’t worry honey, I won’t tease you anymore. Just lemme snap a picture, hold on.”

Clyde mustered up enough self control to respond, “Now, I never said I wanted ya ta stop teasin’. But go ahead, take yer picture, not like I could say no ta ya after all you’ve done anyway.” Y/N snapped a couple of photos, showing them to Clyde for approval. He honestly couldn’t care less, he didn’t think much of having his picture taken, but she seemed so pleased that he had to let her keep them. 

Smiling down at him, Y/N thanked him and proceeded to grab another hot towel, “If you could close your eyes again Clyde, I’ll get this mud mask off of ya.” 

Eager to feel her touch again, Clyde obliged. He relished in the feeling of the soft towel breaking away the clay and letting his skin breathe. He was drawn out of his thoughts when he heard the song change and the upbeat intro to ‘Take a Chance’ started playing. He felt the last of the clay being wiped away and was about to open his eyes when he felt something soft press against his cheek. He froze, not daring to breathe, “You said you’d warn me before ya did anythin’.” He opened his eyes, a smirk growing on his face. Y/N, trying to play it cool despite the blush covering her face, shrugged, “Felt inspired by the song, what can I say? Call it a kiss for good luck, you look like you could use a little.” She turned away, busying herself with the items on her station’s counter in an attempt to move on from the conversation. Clyde stood up, taking a small step so that he was right behind her. Placing an arm on either side of her so she was pinned to her spot, he cleared his throat. She turned to him, seemingly unaware of his movement, and was startled by his proximity. The blush that already stained her cheeks flared up yet again. Clyde smiled, “That’s real sweet an’ all but I’m not quite sure a kiss on the cheek will bring me enough luck.” He glanced down at his arm and then back up at her, “I’m an awful unlucky person.” Y/N fought a smile and tilted her head up towards his, “Well, how could I say no to you when you’re lookin’ at me like that.” She lifted her hands up to meet his cheeks and pulled him in for a kiss. Clyde let go of the counter and brought his good hand up to cup her face, while he placed his other at the small of her back. He pulled her in closer to him and bit back a gasp when her body fell flush against his. She tangled her hands in his hair, tugging the headband off and throwing it to the side, not caring where it landed. 

When the two finally broke apart for air, Y/N chuckled, “If that’s what I get after givin’ you a facial I can’t wait to see what you’re like after a home cooked meal and a nice massage.” 

Clyde smiled, “Well, how ‘bout you come ‘round to mine tomorrow night. I’ll treat you to the home cooked meal and we can see about that massage. I’m sure you could guess I’ve never really had one of them either.”

Shaking her head, Y/N smiled softly back at him, “Well, we’re gonna have ta change that. You need some good ol’ fashioned pamperin’. And I’m more than willin’ to pamper ya, only thing I want in return is for you ta keep callin’ me those sweet little names in that voice of yours and keep kissin’ me like that.”

He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her closer again, using his good hand to tilt her face back up to meet his, “Darlin’, I think that can be arranged.”

[safarigirlsp]

Wicked Fairytales

My fun little series in which I give my own twisted twist on some classics.

Bah Humbug

Flip Zimmerman x Reader

Kylo Ren x Reader

Charlie Barber x Reader

Clyde Logan x Reader

Henry McHenry x Reader

Jacques Le Gris x Reader

Commander Mills x Reader

Word Count: 35.4k

Warnings: NSFW. Extra Smut. Language. Angst. Romance. Graphic Violence. Murder. Main Character Death. Light Violence Against Reader. Old Timey Sexism. Bastardization of Classic Literature.

AO3 Link

Based on A Christmas Carol

A Comedy of Eros

Jacques Le Gris x Reader

Word Count: 13.5k

Warnings: NSFW. Humor. Romance. Soulmates. Violence. Non-Con Elements. Physical Aggression Toward Reader. Possessive and Jealous Behavior. Dominant Men. Bitchy Women. Conniving Wizards. Drugging - Kids today might call it Sex Pollen. Confusion. Duplicity. Bestiality. Orgies. Cuckolding. Exhibitionism. Misogyny. Old Timey Sexism. Toxic Men. Jacques/Pierre Canon as Developed by Silky and Myself aka Shithead Behavior. Bastardization of Shakesperean Tropes. Misuse of Shakespearean Quotes, try to count them all. Fear Not, No Attempts at Ye Olde English Contained Herein. ☠️Rey☠️

Don’t let the warnings scare you! This is Romance and Comedy.  

AO3 Link

Based on A Midsummer Night's Dream

Outrun the Devil

Lawyer Kylo Ren x Reader

Word Count: 14.9k

Warnings: NSFW. Smut. Blood. Gore. Murder. Beheadings. Supernatural Themes. Romance.

AO3 Link

Based on The Legend of Sleepy Hollow.

Love & War

Regency Kylo Ren x Reader

Word Count: 15.5k

Warnings: NSFW. Language. Smut. Non-Graphic Mentions of Violence and Death. Old Timey Sexism. Fluff. Romance. Humor. Stilted Language.

AO3 Link

Admiral Ren in Love

Top notes of Pride & Prejudice with undertones of Cinderella.

The Beast

Vampire Kylo Ren x Reader

Word Count: 5.3k

Warnings: None! Shocking! Some light horror and sexy themes.

AO3 Link

Notes of Beauty and the Beast, Dracula, and The Raven in my best Poe-ish attempt.

Music of the Night

Victorian Kylo Ren x Reader

Word Count: 14.4k

Warnings: NSFW. Smut. Graphic Violence. Fires. Guns. Murder. Old Timey Sexism. Romance. Dark Phantom of the Opera Vibes. Victorian Kylo.

AO3 Link

Based on The Phantom of the Opera

Here There Be Monsters

Pirate Captain Jacques Le Gris x Reader

Word Count: 51.4k

Warnings: NSFW. Smut. Action. Adventure. Romance. Light Violence. Swords. Guns. Orgies. Bar Fights. Pirate Shenanigans. Old Timey Sexism. 

AO3 Link

This is the result of my love for Pirates of the Caribbean. Yes, it's a classic.

Maneater

Commander Mills x Lawyer Reader

Word Count: 37.5k

Warnings: NSFW. Smut. Violence. Blood. Gore. Graphic Dinosaur Violence. Enemies to Lovers. Idiots in Love. Sexism in Survival Situations. Hot Toxic Masculinity. Character Crossovers. The Commander Mills Jurassic Park AU that had to happen.

AO3 Link

Mixing two of my favorites together for a fun AU - Commander Mills and Jurassic Park! Yes, it's a classic.

Ghost Town

Gunfighter Flip Zimmerman x Reader

Word Count: 14k

AO3 Link

Warnings: NSFW. Smut. Alcohol. Graphic Violence. Gun Violence. Lots of Violence. Horror Themes. Possession Themes. Supernatural Themes. Shameless References to The Shining. This is a Darker take on Flip than I usually write, but it’s Halloween!

Inspired by the Seven Deadly Sins.

Everything A Big Bad Wolf Could Want

Word Count: 5.2k

Warnings: NSFW. Smut. Fluff. Language. Chasing kink. Primal Play. If there’s such a thing as Lumberjack kink, it’s in here. Extreme bastardization of fairy tale dialogue.

AO3 Link

If I were Little Red Riding Hood...

Cinderella

Kylo Ren x Reader

HCs Only

Word Count: 1k

Warnings: NSFW. Language. Light Smut. Fluff. Happy Murder Thoughts. Humor.

Cinderella Themes.

[waywardrose]

MASTERLIST

Under the cut are x-reader fics for:

Flip Zimmerman (BlacKkKlansman)

Pale (Burn This)

Ronnie Peterson (The Dead Don’t Die)

Adam Sackler (HBO’s Girls)

Jacques le Gris (The Last Duel)

Clyde Logan (Logan Lucky)

Charlie Barber (Marriage Story)

Abraham H. Parnassus (Saturday Night Live)

Kylo Ren (Star Wars)

Armitage Hux (Star Wars)

Eddie Munson (Stranger Things)

Phillip Altman (This Is Where I Leave You)

+ Miscellaneous fics (and more! 👀)

updated: September 25, 2024

Follow me on:

AO3

Wattpad

Discord: waywardrose

BLACKKKLANSMAN

reader x flip zimmerman

🌹 A Reintroduction

rating: teen+, 1.5k, gender-neutral!reader, flip is dishonest, but also thirsty, drug-dealing mention

Flip. Your Flip is with the cops. He has a gun and a badge and everything.

That didn’t make any sense.

🌹 Flashfic: Flip could get it ✊

🌹 Flashfic: How do you think Flip would react to his wife’s changing body during pregnancy?

🌹 Flashfic: How grateful are they in general? Are they aware of what their s/o is doing for them?

🌹 Flashfic: How do they picture their future with their s/o?

🌹 The Handler

rating: explicit, 4.4k, sexism, violence, abusive language, blood (bc of the violence), drug mention, guns mention, child sex-trafficking mention, rape threat, jealousy, fighting

You propped your cowboy boot on the table edge and took a long drink of beer. No one sitting at the  table with you paid your rudeness any mind. In fact, Johnny Claiborne  promptly placed his callused hand on your bare knee.

🌹 It’s Too Late To Turn Back Now

rating: teen, 2.1k, past physical-abuse mention, brief injury description, off-screen murder, period-typical sexism

The first time Flip saw you, you were bruised and cuffed. The scuttlebutt around the precinct was you had run over and murdered your abusive ex-boyfriend.

🌹 Queen of the Roller Derby

rating: mature, 2.3k, vague injury description, anachronistic sports teams and organizations

He couldn’t believe… Well, a lot of things. First, that he’d been invited. Second, that he was looking forward to the bout. Third, that he was anxious for your well-being.

🌹 NSFW Alphabet Series

ABC | DE | FGH | IJK | LMN | OP | QRS | TU | V | WXYZ

Bonus: My five favorite things about Flip Zimmerman

rating: explicit, 32k, stand-alone vignettes, oral sex, fluff, angst with happy ending, masturbation, daddy kink, public and semi-public sex, kind-of somnophilia, drug use, under-negotiated bondage and spanking, soft domming, ass play

Your legs went limp on Flip’s shoulders, and you felt him eased them down to the bed. He ran his big hands up your sides and then under your back as he bent forward.

🌹 Still the Same

rating: explicit, 13k, fem!reader, high-school!flip+reader, vaguely 1969 (with  inaccuracies), fingering, handjobs, pining, military draft/service (with inaccuracies), colorado setting, period-typical drug use, magical first time, angst with happy ending

He cracked the window, letting in the crisp spring air. It was too dark to see where specifically he was looking, but he had turned to face  you. One hand remained on the steering wheel, the other over the back of the seat.

He offered, “Wanna get in the back?”

“Sure,” you said, dropping your purse on the floor, and opened your door.

🌹 Three-day Weekend

rating: explicit, 3.2k, daddy kink, daddy dom, reader is not a little, off-screen negotiation, edging, oral sex, mild spanking

You  woke to a hot hand sliding across your bare middle and lips kissing your shoulder. There was the tickle of whiskers, and you turned your head towards disruption. With a sigh, you opened your eyes to watch Flip kiss your shoulder again. He looked up at you as his hand traveled under the sheet bunched below your waist.

“Mornin’, baby,” he said. His voice was sleep-rough yet tender.

🌹 Triple-Feature

rating: mature, 2.8k, old-fashioned living arrangements, making out

The Aircadia Drive-In was running a classic-horror triple-feature this Saturday night. You read in the paper they were playing The Wolf Man, Frankenstein, and Dracula. That evening, you rang Flip and asked him out on a date. You even offered to pay.

🌹 You Ain’t Seen Nothing Yet

rating: mature, 2.8k, detective reader, estranged married couple, smoking, period-typical sexism, dirty talk

…you balanced your mother’s big Tupperware container filled with homemade Samoas cookies. They were Flip’s favorite, and he detested sharing them. But he would have to—because you were famous around the station for your cookies.

You hoped he only got one. It would serve him right.

🌹 You Can Leave Your Skates On

rating: explicit, 2k, almost uniform kink, roller derby mention, clothed female naked male

The sink counter was strewn with make-up and hair tools and the pair of scissors from the kitchen. Before he could ask what the hell all this was for, you kissed his cheek and closed the bathroom door behind him.

Spiritual sequel to Queen of the Roller Derby

🌹 You Light Up My Life

rating: teen, 1.4k, sneakiness, secrets, fluffy married life

The first time you knew something was up was when Flip started his car and hurried to change the radio station.

🌹 You’re the Inspiration

rating: teen, 854, past alcohol abuse, fluffy afternoon

Flip sat in his switched off car and stared at the dark house. He wanted to break something.

BURN THIS

reader x pale

🌹 In the Night We Trust | playlist on spotify

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8

rating: explicit, 57k, pretty woman au, prostitute reader, 1980s/90s, drug use  mention, alcohol consumption, inherent power imbalance, soft dom, choking (not breathplay), safe sex, oral sex, semi-public sex, public dirty talk, rough sex, mild spanking, fighting, abusive language, attempted sexual assault, aftercare

“So tell me, Pale, are you in town on business or pleasure?”

“Business…” He looks at your lips. “Until now.”

THE DEAD DON’T DIE

reader x ronald peterson

🌹 A Grave New World

rating: teen+, 804, canon-typical violence, missing parents

You’d only gone on one date—a really nice date, too—with Ronnie Peterson and then the zombie apocalypse happened. Like, what the actual fuck?

GIRLS (HBO)

reader x adam sackler

🌹 Flashfic: …imagine him trying to cuddle and smooch his gf in public and she’s like “😬😬 what are you doing…? Mmm, I guess it’s not so bad”

🌹 Flashfic: please. please tell me about licking sackler’s sack. its all i can think about. my mind has been infected by thoughts of adam sacklers balls in my mouth

🌹 Improving His Taste

rating: teen+, 2.2k, post s05e10, arguments with SO, making out

You were so sick of Adam Sackler and his tempestuous girlfriends.

🌹 Let Me Explain

rating: teen+, 1.2k, light angst, happy ending

“Whoa, let me explain!” Adam implored while teetering in patent leather stilettos, a chef’s knife with slices of carrot sticking to it in his hand. He grabbed the kitchen counter with his left to steady himself.

🌹 There Is A Light (That Never Goes Out)

rating: explicit, 4.3k, canon-typical buffoonery, jealousy, brief non-con element, femdom-ish reader, oral sex

“Take off your clothes,” he murmured after kissing you. “And crawl to my bed.”

THE LAST DUEL

reader x jacques le gris

🌹 Fair Is Foul

rating: teen, 1.8k, historical inaccuracies, timeline inaccuracies, anachronisms, medieval  flirting, sad/open ending, minor spoilers(?), rape mention

The other ladies at court told you not to demean yourself by keeping company with a squire. You pointed out that said squire had Count Pierre’s favor. Said squire might even be favored above any knight.

🌹 To Honor and Innocence

rating: mature, 5.3k, fem!reader, young!jacques, historical/jousting inaccuracies, ✨the  middle ages were magic✨, catholic imagery, reader has a spring/summer birthday, just roll with me, making out, thigh riding, euphemisms galore

You needed to look away, but you couldn’t. He was striking with the sudden high color in his cheeks and glittering eyes. His smile softened around the edges, and your heart soared at the sight.

Look away, you’d told yourself. Look away before you lose yourself.

LOGAN LUCKY

reader x clyde logan

🌹 A Newer World

rating: teen, 1.3k, PTSD symptom mention

Jimmy leaned across the patio table, bottle of Coors in hand. “So, when you gonna make an honest woman outta her?”

🌹 Lucky Me Lucky You | duck tape jukebox on spotify | ambient mix by Sushii

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9

Bonus: NSFW Alphabet [2.1k]

rating: explicit, 33k, counter-espionage, angst with happy ending, alcohol consumption

You’d had big plans for your future. He’d had big plans, too. During senior year, you’d overheard him talking before class about joining the Army. You had thought about him in that service uniform and how handsome he would look.

Thirteen years later, Clyde was tending bar, sans uniform and missing part of his left arm. At the same time, you were working at the data-entry/call-center down the road from the house you inherited from your late grandmother.

So much for big plans.

🌹 When I Saw You

rating: mature/explicit, 3k, hairdresser!reader, touch-starved!clyde, post movie, erotic fantasies

In his fantasies, he always has both hands.

Which he knows is ironic.

MARRIAGE STORY

reader x charlie barber

🌹 Finding Treasure in the Dark

1 | 2

rating: explicit, 18k, submissive!female-reader, dom!charlie, under-negotiated bdsm, impact play, nipple play, oral sex, anal sex, piv sex, restraints, rope bondage, edging, semi-public fingering, sex toys, handjobs, public teasing

“Yes!“ she hissed in delight. "I told Professor Barber straight out I didn’t do that crap. Or let him boss me around. That’s why I dropped him, you know. If he wants some Stepford to indulge his impulses, he should go to Fetster or whatever.”

Your eyes went wide, and you shifted in your seat, faux-yawning and stretching your arms to cover the movement. You knew Charlie Barber.

🌹 Sweet Angel

rating: explicit, 3k, fluff, dog adoption, insecure!Charlie, piv sex

Since moving to a house with a fenced yard, Henry has been focused on getting a dog. First, it was getting a puppy for Christmas. When that hadn’t panned out, a dog for his birthday. Nicole wouldn’t install a real fence at her place, but tried to distract him with a new iPad.

That worked for a month.

SATURDAY NIGHT LIVE

reader x abraham h. parnassus

🌹 Flashfic: …what would young!Abe do for his wife on [Valentine’s Day]??

🌹 Flashfic: Abe Parnassus vibes jacquesdemys.tumblr com/post/125815250515

🌹 His Girl On A Friday

rating: teen+, 1.2k, corporate espionage, seduction

You’ve been sent by your father, Henry Pickens, to spy on his rival: Abraham H. Parnassus.

🌹 Indulgences

rating: mature, 1.5k, fem!reader, vaguely 1950s, old-fashioned euphemisms, dub-con-ish at first, public fingering, mild edging

It’s official: Don Carlos is boring. Yes, it’s a fundraiser. And of course, you agreed to purchase tickets. Anything to support The Met. But this opera, while beautiful, is dull.

🌹 My Baby Just Cares for Me Series

rating: explicit, sheltered-artist reader, vaguely 1950s, no vintage racism, written with old-fashioned sensibilities and euphemisms, oral sex, alcohol consumption, semi-public sex, sex toys, vaginal fingering, first time

— Expanding One’s Horizons [5k]

“We all need to expand our horizons,” you said as you went to the dining room to turn off the lights.

“Indeed we do, my love.”

— Tension Tamer [3k]

The  mattress trembled under you. The softly lit face of your alarm clock said it was after three. You knew it must be work that had awoken him. The company was in the middle of a merger and tensions were high.

— A Treasure More Than Gold [2.2k]

You met your husband’s eyes across the dance floor of Hotel Astor’s ballroom. He’d let his five o'clock shadow develop into a short Vandyke beard in preparation for Babe Paley’s Halloween gala.

— Minx [2.7k]

Abe groaned into the coverlet as you pressed your thumbs on either side of his spine. His muscles were slowly losing their tightness. You didn’t think his desk chair at work was supporting him properly. Most likely, he never sat in it except to sign documents.

— It’s Magic [4.4k]

Don’t go to art school, they said.

— Two To Tango [7k]

You sat at the bistro table tucked in the corner of the pasticceria. Abe sat across from you, tiny plates of bite-sized cake on the table between you.

STAR WARS

general

🌹 The Skywalker Ascension

rating: teen, 4.5k, tros revision, mc death, angst, lightsaber battles, retcon timeline

“All the Sith live in me,” he vows. “You will be empress, and we will be one.”

While disgust churns her gut, she will not hate, she will not give in.

To him or to anyone.

🌹 Unsanctioned

rating: general, 371, universe jumping, pre-tfa, my poor attempt at humor

You’re taking the walk of shame to the kitchen, arms full of dirty dishes.

kylo ren x armitage hux

🌹 Bombing Out

rating: mature, 1.4k, canon compliant, cannoli kylux, gambling, strip sabacc, alcohol consumption, afterlife, mutual pining, arguing

He didn’t know why he was playing sabacc. He didn’t like card games. There was hardly any strategy. No planning. Everything was left to chance. It was messy. And the gambling. He didn’t mind risk, of course, but one had to match their opponents’ bets. Which meant the opponent had too much control.

It was idiotic.

About as idiotic as his opponent, Ben Solo—

Who had literally lost his shirt last round.

🌹 Iron Moon Series on AO3 | photoset | spotify playlist by ayudameme

rating: explicit, 36k, canon universe, xeno-vampires, canon-typical violence, the first order wins, soft kylux, but with blood, knife play, blood drinking

He wanted to taste it, lick it all up. He wanted to run his tongue along the cauterized edges of the cut on Ren’s face. He wanted to follow it down under Ren’s ruined clothing.

reader x armitage hux

🌹 Flashfic: Armitage Hux is low key hot

🌹 Flashfic: I want Hux to throat fuck me

🌹 Succor

rating: mature, 2.4k, shy princess reader, fo-leader hux, the first order won, arranged marriage, dirty talk

You felt your dinner guests’ eyes on you, their judgements. You ignored them while hiding behind the courtly rituals you’d been taught since childhood.

reader x kylo ren | ben solo

🌹 All the Time in the Galaxy

rating: teen, 1.9k, kor reader, mutual pining, first kiss

“Lady Ren, pardon the interruption—” You didn’t know what he was  interrupting. You were both standing in silence. “—The techs have noticed something strange here on Starkiller.”

🌹 Call It In the Ring Series

rating: teen-mature, college au, art-majors kylo and reader, first date, sibling fights, nude photography, assisted masturbation, phone sex, fingering

— Hotshot House Show [2.5k]

You checked the address one more time on your phone. It was right, but definitely not what you expected when Kylo offered to make you dinner.

— Worked Shoot [5k]

Photography midterms were due in two weeks, and you only had one of the four photos you needed. You silently berated yourself because you’d known this was coming. It was on the damn syllabus.

But who actually read the syllabus?

— Clean Finish [2k]

You couldn’t believe you were about to do this, you thought as you stood naked in front of the clean bathroom mirror. You didn’t know if Kylo would like it. What if he didn’t?

— Vignette [938]

Ben was all “Morning, beautiful” with a grin Flynn Rider would be proud of. He sat close to you on the sectional sofa—even though there were plenty available places to sit.

— Bonus: I want nothing more than to strip off his clothes piece by piece, kissing any and all skin bared to me.

— Dirty Pre-show [1.3k]

You’d washed at the sink in the studio, but ugh, your jeans are splattered with slip. You’re pretty sure you have some on your face, in your hair. Hell, even one of your ears feels crusty.

How the ever living fuck does it get everywhere?

🌹 Dum Dums

rating: teen, 2.3k, gender-neutral reader, suburban high-school au, fluff, mutual pining, mild angst with happy ending

“Your boyfriend’s looking this way again,” Poe sing-songed before taking a big bite of his apple.

You rolled your eyes, knowing exactly who he was talking about. “He’s not my boyfriend,” you reply as you set your bottle of water on the lunch tray.

🌹 Flashfic: Please the (fem-dom!reader) story from gc…. I NEED IT

🌹 Flashfic: FAM IM ON MY KNEES BEGGING YOU… PLEASE PLEASE WRITE SOMETHING ABOUT GIVING SMOOCHES TO FOREVER SAD BOY KYLO

🌹 Flashfic: How does Kylo spoil his lady?

🌹 Flashfic: So, what do you guys think is Kylo’s favorite way to kiss?

🌹 Hello

rating: mature(ish), 1k, modern au, dream-sharing, pining, possessiveness, nightmare elements, magic/force shenanigans

A phone rang. Burr-ring. Distant at first. Burr-ring. Clanging. Jarring. Burr-ring. It was too dark to find it. You groped around in the cool, damp blackness to find nothing. Burr-ring. You cursed just before your hand slapped against something cold and metal.

🌹 Me and The Devil Series

rating: mature-explicit, modern vampire au, dub con, death mention, blood drinking, menstruation, oral sex, biting, predator/prey

— Flashfic: …I want vampire!kylo to do *very* unspeakable things to me :)

— Flashfic: Very bored tonight and [thinking] about vamp!kylo, if you have any, what’re your favorite five about him?

— You’re My Sweetness [2.1k]

“You’re sad,” he murmured, a note of confusion in his words.

“Funerals tend to do that.”

“Let me make it better.”

— Red Wings [1.4k]

So, you laid there and bled onto an overnight pad that had to be the length of a regulation cricket bat.

— Flashfic: Do you have any thoughts on vampire Kylo sensually playing with you with his teeth?

— To Bring You My Love [9.4k]

“Biker gang? Pfft!” said your boss Vic in reply to a bar patron

The agitated patron continued, describing a group of bikers led by a dark-haired man with a scar bisecting his face.

You suppressed a shudder as you mixed a simple cocktail.

🌹 Not Like the Rest

rating: teen, 948, alcohol consumption, politics

So, Ben’s kept moving for years. He hustles. He’s on committees. He researches everyone around him. He schmoozes.

And he’s schmoozing during a dinner to honor a retiring staffer when he sees you.

🌹 On the Pulse of Mourning

rating: teen, 6.5k, ptsd, angst, disregarding an elder’s wisdom, force choking, force weirdness

He sat on the lowered ramp of his TIE and waited for the Resistance scouts to find him. He didn’t think it would take them long. He’d landed only two klicks from the base.

🌹 The Sofa King

rating: mature, 550, hs au, making out, frottage

Anonymous asked: Ben Solo is such a precious little baby I don't see him making the first move. He would be way too nervous. Like during a movie night you could literally be in his lap, rubbing his chest, purring into his ear and he would just keep his eyes locked on the screen, jaw locked, shifting uncomfortably, and he making silly comments about the movie.

reader x kylo ren x armitage hux

🌹 Precious Pet Series on AO3 | photoset | playlist on spotify

Bonus: NSFW Alphabet for Kylo and Hux [1.6k]

rating: explicit, 335k, canon universe, force-sensitive reader, departing from tfa, stockholm syndrome, force bond, everyone has issues

A hush suddenly fell over the village and you strained to hear anything. Was it over? Had the Order gotten what it wanted? You had a gnawing feeling it was only beginning.

The whoosh of energy—you couldn’t identify the noise, but you knew it wasn’t good—pierced the air. There was a collective horrified gasp and more scrabbling and then more blaster fire. Something had happened, something terrible. Someone’s death had triggered it all. Suddenly, there were screams and controlled violent blasters, and you covered your mouth to muffle your sob. The village was dead. Everyone you knew was dead. Lor San Tekka was gone. You felt it like a punch to the chest.

STAR WARS/DREDD

armitage hux x clan techie

🌹 Little Blue

rating: mature, 1.3k, incest, abuse mention, jealousy, crushes

“I see you’ve been slumming it with the radar techs again,” Armie said from his perch on Techie’s bed.

Techie gnawed on his lip, stepping through the doorway of his berth, and let the door slide shut behind him. He knew it would be stupid to deny it. He was wearing the tech jumpsuit after all.

STRANGER THINGS

reader x eddie munson

🌹 Sidetracked

rating: teen, 900, mechanic!eddie, gender-neutral!reader, domestic fluff, slice of life

Maybe something last-minute happened. Like an emergency tow. Or a quick flat-tire fix. Or a gaggle of geese had waddled into one of the bays — again.

🌹 Through A Glass Darkly | playlist on spotify | masterlist

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 | 27 | 28

rating: explicit, 163k, canon universe, fem/witchy/goth!reader, magic, slow burn, friends to lovers, series-typical horror, period-typical sexism and homophobia, historical inaccuracies and anachronisms, drug dealing and use, smoking, alcohol use, masturbation, mutual masturbation, fantasizing, one-bed trope, making out, fingering, dirty talk, chasing, oral sex, handjobs, condoms, piv sex, mild spanking, reader’s father is a dirtbag, magical violation, mental torture, body horror, aftercare, nightmares, strict parenting, panic attack, past child abuse and abandonment, semi-public sex, breaking up, angst with happy ending, running away, guns, fighting, everyone survives, suicidal ideation

Eddie would have to wait until his lunch break to see this new, hot, weird chick. He wondered which flavor of weird she was. Art weird? Theater weird? Band weird?

Weird weird?

He shrugged. He liked weird.

In other words, you’re the new girl in town, and Eddie is intrigued.

THIS IS WHERE I LEAVE YOU

reader x phillip altman

🌹 Risking Thorns

rating: explicit, 12k, post-movie, ice skating, nice suburban upbringing, slut shaming, almost enemies-to-lovers, prickly reader, phillip gets a short leash, bastardization of a jewish holiday, fingering, semi-public sex, phone sex, spanking threat

Once she pulled out of the parking lot, you asked, “So, where are we going?”

“Altman’s? I thought you got your skates sharpened there, too?”

Mental alarms went off as you shook your head. You knew the Altmans…

THE WITCHER

yennefer x geralt

🌹 Nailed Into Place

rating: explicit, 14k, modern new orleans au, inspired by s01e03 “betrayer moon”, mishmash of nola folklore, i’ve altered the striga curse (pray i don’t alter it further), references to s01e05 “bottled appetites”, timeline what timeline, alcohol consumption, incest mention, pedophilia mention, injuries, blood, ableist language, a sprinkling of geralt/jaskier

Geralt Rivia is the only witcher in New Orleans. He’s typically hard to find until Jaskier decides to announce on Instagram where he’ll be performing via selfies with Geralt in the background. Baron Ostrit, an associate of mob-connected Foltest Temeria, shows up to hire Geralt to rescue his daughter from slavers. Another princess to save. Geralt finds himself in a tangle lies, from the Marigny to the Garden District—and consulting with a mage he hasn’t seen in years…

MISCELLANEOUS

🌹 Character Soundtrack

Songs and playlists for characters I (and others) associate with them. Feel free to message me with ideas!

🌹 BlacKkKlansman Supercut

Flip Zimmerman scenes only.

🌹 Logan Lucky Supercut

Clyde Logan scenes only.

🌹 Burn This - Audio

Bootleg audio recording of the play.

[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!

[blueberryreads]

♡·˚tags per actor·˚♡

no actual real actor x reader, only characters

ADAM DRIVER CHARACTERS

kylo ren  (smut, fluff, angst)

flip zimmerman  (smut, fluff, angst)

dan jones  (smut, fluff, angst)

adam sackler  (smut, fluff, angst)

clyde logan  (smut, fluff, angst)

misc. adam driver characters (smut, fluff, angst)

CHRIS EVANS CHARACTERS

steve rogers  (smut, fluff, angst, social media au, multipart)

andy barber  (smut, fluff, angst)

ransom drysdale  (smut, fluff, angst)

ari levinson  (smut, fluff, angst)

lloyd hansen  (smut, fluff, angst)

SEBASTIAN STAN CHARACTERS

bucky barnes  (smut, fluff, angst, social media au, multipart)

destroyer!chris  (smut, fluff, angst)

steve kemp  (smut, fluff, angst)

carter baizen  (smut, fluff, angst)

misc. sebastian stan characters (smut, fluff, angst)

JON BERNTHAL CHARACTERS

frank castle  (smut, fluff, angst)

ethan sawyer  (smut, fluff, angst)

TOM HARDY CHARACTERS

eddie brock  (smut, fluff, angst)

venom  (smut, fluff, angst)

(fics will only be tagged as venom if they actually include a relationship between venom and reader)

alfie solomons  (smut, fluff, angst)

[eulcgizeme]

eulcgizeme's plot brain rot

heyo weyo, listed below are just some plots i'm desperate to do so if you're interested, pls give this a like and i will come bother you. (: all of these can be for m/m or m/f pairings! heavily influenced from listening to ttpd for last four days

A. "even if it's handcuffed, i'm leaving here with you" for two former bonnie and clyde-esque characters who essentially out grew each other until they rekindle a little flame that gets them back on their ride or die bullshit, but one of them is insistent that the past is in the past (except maybe when someone's hand is down someone's pants oops). this would most likely be for eden [callum turner fc] since it's close to his backstory but watered down lol but could be someone else, possibly lyp adler [mike faist fc].

B. high school sweethearts remarried after they realized they were, in fact, far too young to have gotten married. it was messy, it was bitter, and fast forward they're remarried but unhappy bc they keep looking for the other in everything they do. an affair ensues and is it possible they've really grown up and come back to each other, or are they just as immature as they were back then? (possibly for andy rhodes, or knightley rhodes [josh o'connor or mike faist fcs])

C. based on the prophecy by miss taylor, where a promise to get married to their best friend if they're still single by x time and even though they're down for it, they're realizing maybe it's not the world against them but that they're not ready to belong to someone. fluff, comfort, and a bitter angst to not understanding why the person you've always loved suddenly doesn't want to be yours. (100% would have to be a new muse on my end but im ready)

D. muse a confesses to muse b that their spouse is cheating on them and ends a marriage. but instead of being hailed a savior, muse b holds it against muse a. add a little fortnight inspo and muse b could have lived right behind muse a, and muse a's marriage was the shit one while muse b lived happily until this revelation. muse a's marriage finally fixes itself and now muse b has to watch from their backyard their ex-best friend have the life muse a ruined by saying outloud the affair everyone but muse b saw. once again throwing my rhodes-burton family at this plot.

E. "like a tattooed golden retriever" about a young male model (i have a logan lerman fc in mind for this) taken in by someone else in the fashion industry who needs their next big break and is desperate. essentially plucks him off the street for his look to clean him up with little regard or what happens to him in the industry until they become emotionally attached and responsible for him.

F. two exes who broke up because muse a (who i'm thinking i might throw my callie adler [anya taylor joy fc] at for this! she does have a regular au lol but can be kept supernatural if ya want) was a mess tho muse b denies that it's a direct result of how they handled the relationship... and fast forward to muse a fixing themselves to spite muse b and everything they said about them.

G. and then a twist on the concept above ^ where muse a decides they're going to fix muse b to spite everyone around them. i can fix him (no really i can) as everyone insists they're no good. yeah, it's the song. and what of it?

H. begging for a plot based on the lines "it wasn't sexy once it wasn't forbidden" and "sparkling summer" and "you deserve prison but you'll never get time, you'll slide into inboxes and slip through the bar." i had more for this but this whole post has been sitting in my drafts for two days and i want it out there, but if you're a sucker for smallest man who ever lived i will give you my all on deets for this.

I. unrelated to ttpd, but some more plots for callie and lyp adler as theyre supernatural au muses and lyp indirectly/accidentally did use his soul as payment for more power and didn't take into consideration that as a twin he is a soul split in two and also sold callie's soul.

just putting it out there that aside from mike faist/callum turner, i have some muse ideas for tom holland, barry keoghan, josh o'connor, david corenswet, jonathan bailey. i prefer writing male characters but i do have a couple of gals that might work for some of these if needed! (:

[mrs-gucci]

Fic-or-Treat 2023 requesting guide

a few basics before we get into the meat and potatoes...

🎃 all requests during this event will include halloween and/or spooky themes to some degree. if your request doesn't include these things, it will automatically be deleted from my inbox.

🎃 my normal content restrictions (listed in my request faq) still apply for this event. any requests that don't adhere to my restrictions or the requirements of the event, it will automatically be deleted from my inbox.

alrighty, now onto the meat and potatoes.

for door fics...

characters:

flip zimmerman, clyde logan, kylo ren (AU's only), jacques le gris, charlie barber, and commander mills (AU's only).

spooky AU's:

historic (ex. medieval, victorian, salem witch trials), serial killer (can be masked, like a Ghostface-type character), pirate, priest, witch hunter, mob/mafia, hitman, harry potter/hogwarts, requester’s choice (not guaranteed to be accepted but I enjoy hearing new ideas).

length:

🕸️ both door fics will be 1k words minimum.

****

what I'm looking for in a TRICK request:

this trick fic will be a darker, more horror/thriller-based piece.

the only requests I will take into consideration for the trick fic are those that include a spooky AU (listed above)

the only genres I will be accepting for the trick fics are: horror, thriller, suspense, spooky darkfic, supernatural and just creepy things in general. 

below is an example of the type of request I'll be looking for.

“serial killer!Kylo Ren has been collecting trophies for a long time, but now, he’s got his eyes set on the ultimate trophy: you.”

what I'm looking for in a TREAT request:

this treat fic will be more of what I do here on my blog normally, meaning stuff that's playful, lightly spooky smut & fluff.

the fic will be a more fun, light-hearted piece with little-to-no dark stuff in it. you do not have to include one of the spooky AU's in your treat request unless you'd like to do so.

below is an example of the type of request I'll be looking for.

"Charlie Barber invites you trick-or-treating with him and Henry. He gives you a little extra treat once he's asleep ;)"

for werewolf wednesday...

characters:

jacques le gris, flip zimmerman, clyde logan.

AU's:

historic (ex. medieval, victorian, salem witch trials), werewolf.

length & genre:

🕸️ all fics will be blurb-length pieces, meaning ~500-900 words a piece.

🕸️ all genres are fair game for werewolf wednesday (fluff, smut, horror, spooky, etc).

additional notes:

🐺 I only accept requests where the ADCU character is the werewolf, there will be no werewolf!reader fics.

🐺 I will not write A/B/O, however I will write ruts.

for spooky sunday...

characters:

same as the door fic character list.

spooky AU's:

historic (ex. medieval, victorian, salem witch trials), vampire, beast ("beauty and the beast"-type), devil/demon, dark/fallen angel, ghost (depends on the request), witch/sorcerer, serial killer (can be masked, like a Ghostface-type character), requester’s choice (not guaranteed to be accepted but I enjoy hearing new ideas).

length & genre:

🕸️ all fics will be blurb-length, meaning ~500-900 words a piece.

🕸️ all genres are fair game for spooky sunday (fluff, smut, horror, spooky, etc).

banner credit to @firefly-graphics

if you have any questions about requesting for this event, please don't hesitate to ask in either the comments on this post or via an ask in my inbox! I monitor both pretty consistently so you'll definitely get an answer from me in a timely manner.

>> to join the fic-or-treat taglist, you have to send a message to my inbox!! your username must be included in some form. I will not accept tag requests that don't come through my inbox. <<

[kylosjuul]

Kylo Ren Fluff HCs

warnings: none, AFAB!reader (not proofread sorry)

I have made my triumphant return to writing! Enjoy my sweet delusional babies.

A = Admiration (what do they absolutely adore about you?)

Kylo admires your softness, though you are very strong, (and almost annoyingly independent) he finds himself in awe of your smooth skin, the way your hair frames your face. He takes notice of the way you keep your nails filed and clean, how you always smell so sweet. He’s just enamored by how beautiful you truly are and how lucky he is.

B = Body (what is their favorite part of your body?)

Oh boy. As previously mentioned in the NSFW alphabet, he’s a sucker for your thighs and your ass. You’re the perfect shape, molded especially for his hands. But on a more sentimental note, he loves your eyes. How long your lashes are, the way you look up at him with love and certainty.

C = Cuddling (how do they like to cuddle?)

He wasn’t use to having another body next to him. So many nights saturated with nightmares and coldness. He was so cold. That first night cuddled up to him, he knew he couldn’t sleep any other way. He prefers being ‘big spoon’ holding your frame tightly against his chest, so he can protect you, even in sleep. At night just before tiredness takes you, you’ll sprawl across his chest, playing with his hair and talking about anything and everything. It’s moments like that, that he replays when he’s feeling stressed, remembering the curve of your smile and the smell of your shampoo.

D = Dates (what does their ideal date with you look like?)

Due to being you know, the ruler of everything, he cant really take you out properly. However, his idea of a ‘date’ is making sure to be home on time to eat with you, talk about your days, and just spend quality time with his girl.

E = Emotions (how do they express emotion around you?)

Kylo isn’t the best at this. Mostly, because he feels so undeserving of you and when he tries to communicate how much he loves you, it makes him well up. You can always tell what he’s feeling just by looking into his eyes, always a little glazed over when he’s looking at you, of course. He’ll swallow down a sob and just grab your hand, stroking it with his thumb. And that’s enough for you.

F = Family (do they want one? If they do, when?)

Family has always been a sore spot for him, obviously, constantly seeking that feeling of belonging. He’s scared to death to ever become a father, afraid of letting his children down. Of letting you down. Of letting his anger get in the way. But he’d be lying if he said he didn’t think about making you a mother sometimes. How amazing you would be, how he craves to see you holding his child. You’re his only family now, so he’s more focused on nurturing you. (For now).

G = Gifts (how do they feel about gift giving? What are their habits when it comes to this?)

Anything you want, just ask. It is yours. You’d be talking about some pretty dress you saw, not even halfway through your sentence and he’d say,

“Pull up my account.”

H = Holding Hands (when/how do they like to hold hands?)

At first he was afraid of people looking at him as weak while holding your hand, but he very quickly got over that. It took him awhile to show PDA, but now that you rule together, he feels even stronger when your palm is in his. He’ll gladly walk the Finalizer with a hand on the small of your back, chin high. He’s so proud of you, and likes to show you off.

I = Injury (how would they act if you got hurt?)

Panic. He would drop everything to leave and go check on you. If you were bed ridden, he would stop 20 times a day to see if you needed anything, making sure the nurses were making you their top priority. You’d wave him off telling him you were going to be okay, but that panic never stopped for him. You’re all he has left.

J = Jokes (do they like to joke around with or prank you? how?)

You’re definitely the funny one. Even when he is particularly stoic that day, you can still make him crack a smile. You bring out the Ben in him sometimes, and he revels in that, laughing for minutes on end over something stupid.

K = Kisses (how do they like to kiss you?)

In passing, he’ll give you a quick kiss on the cheek.

As a greeting, he’ll kiss you slow, taking in your lips against his.

When you’re in bed, it’s this languid, breathless kiss that has his heart pounding out of his chest.

When saying goodbye, it’s a quick peck followed by a few moments of staring into your eyes, never wanting to leave you. Ever.

L = Love (how do they show you they love you?)

He has and always will show up for you. Whenever you need him, he feels it deep in his chest, you don’t even have to say it out loud. You two are so connected, so intertwined, he can feel you needing him before the thought crosses your mind. No matter the time or context, he’s rushing to your side. He loves his sweet girl. 🫶🏼

M = Memory (favorite memory together?)

The first kiss. Kylo had never felt so warm, so held, in his entire life. The first time you kissed him was also his first kiss. Ever. The excitement, and fear, that twisted in his chest made him feel giddy, softly grabbing your neck and surrendering himself to you. Thats when he knew he would be whatever man you needed him to be.

N = Nightmare (what is their worst fear?)

You calling it quits. Even if he lived 10 lifetimes, he wouldn’t feel like he deserved you in any of them. Yes, he would totally understand if you ever decided to leave him, but selfishly, he can’t find it in him to let you go. Even if it may be what’s best for you in the long run. The man he is and was haunts him and makes him feel sick, always hoping that his baggage never bleeds into yours.

O = Oddity (what is one quirk they have?)

He puts on a sock, then a shoe, one at a time for each foot. Like, he doesn’t put both socks on, THEN the shoes. Freak! (jk)

P = Pet Names (what do they like to call you?)

I’d like to headcanon that he calls you ‘sweetheart’ every once in awhile. Always whispering it too, it’s always so gentle and sweet. I can also see him calling you ‘my love’ here and there. So cute.

Q = Quality Time (how do they like to spend time with you?)

Having shared quarters definitely helps with this, so even on days where you don’t see him at all, you know that he’ll be there after your duties. He values just being able to hold you, talk to you for hours, whatever you want to do with him. Another way you and him spend time together, and maybe the most important of all, is going on missions. There’s no other person you can truly rely on besides him, and it’s no question that everyone can count on a success when you’re working as a team.

R = Rhythm (what song reminds you of them?)

Here are a few songs that remind me of Kylo!

The Reason- Hoobastank

Birds of a Feather- Billie Eilish

The Summoning- Sleep Token (heavy on this one).

S = Secrets (how open are they with you?)

Kylo is a tough one to crack. There are still some things he hasn’t told you, but he’s the most vulnerable when you are, when you start opening up to him. He’ll tell you a similar experience that happened to him, never wanting you to feel alone.

T = Time (how long did it take you to get together?)

When you first joined the Order, he viewed you as nothing but competition. Your numbers, your successes challenged him until he realized you were more of an asset than an enemy. Then, he craved you. He daydreamed of how powerful you would be together. That fateful day in the throne room when you both defeated Snoke was his wake up call. He essentially begged you to join him, and you said yes, by his luck. It took him awhile to muster up the courage to ask anything from you, but he did. And you both have been unstoppable since.

U = Upset (how do they act when you’re upset?)

The second a tear hits your cheek, he’s curling you into him with a vice grip, stroking your hair, gentle touches to your back. He knows pain, and loathes you experiencing it too. He’s your safe place.

V = Vaunt (what are they proud of? Do they like to show you off?)

Kylo is proud of how far he’s come, what he’s proved himself to be to the order. How people either fear him or respect him throughout the galaxy. But there is nothing he’s more proud of than you. He is honored to be even associated with you, pride surging through him when people recognize your power. He feels most confident when you’re walking beside him.

W = Warrior (how do they feel about you fighting? Would they fight for you, beside you, etc?)

He doesn’t think he’s ever been more turned on in his life. You are sharp, lethal. But graceful. Each swing of your saber carefully calculated. He would go as far to say you were a much more reliable and sturdy fighter than himself. He swells with pride seeing you take what’s yours, getting your revenge.

X = X-Ray (how well are they able to read you?)

Given your dyad, there are no secrets. He can’t exactly read your thoughts word for word, but he can pick up on the feelings you have no matter how complicated they are. Sometimes he knows what you need before you do.

Y = Yes (how would they propose to you?)

He would be shaking, nervousness vibrating in his chest, along with hope that you won’t refuse him this. This promise, this covenant to hold you forever. He swallows thickly, eye twitching and jaw working. You can see in his eyes there’s already a trace of tears. He’d grab both your hands, almost crushing them with how scared he was.

“I want you. All of you. Forever.”

He takes a knee humbly before you.

“Please.”

Z = Zen (what makes them feel calm?)

Your presence. Everyone aboard knows the only way to knock any kind of sense, or peace, into the Supreme Leader is through you. (Which is why most political or detrimental plans are run by you first). You can feel his anger rippling through your dyad, urging you to find him, and once you do you place a light hand on his shoulder, “Kylo…breathe.” And he does.

[ao3feed--kylux]

Pretzel Logic

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/QYshnvl

by MaudeZbornak

Kylux Advent Calendar 2022 - Winter Festival

The Winter Festival needs a substitute Santa. Stensland's looking for a man to fill a big suit.

Words: 2904, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Series: Part 4 of MZ's Kylux Advent Calendar 2022, Part 7 of Clydeland, Part 36 of MZ's Kylux Adjacent Collection

Fandoms: Logan Lucky (2017), Crash Pad (2017)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: M/M

Characters: Clyde Logan, Stensland (Crash Pad)

Relationships: Clyde Logan/Stensland (Crash Pad), Armitage Hux/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren

Additional Tags: Kylux Advent Calendar 2022, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, meet cute, Fluff, Christmas

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/QYshnvl