#clyde logan x female reader

[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.

#logan lucky #clyde logan #clyde x reader #clyde logan x reader #clyde logan fluff #clyde logan fanfiction #clyde logan x female reader #clyde logan x you #logan lucky fanfiction #mellie logan #jimmy logan #adcu #adcu fanfiction #adam driver fanfic #adam driver #diamonds and stones

[ladyinwriting18]

On His Lap (Clyde Logan x Reader)

Summary: A quiet movie night with Clyde ends with you on his lap.

Words: 2,004

Warnings: Use of Sir, smut, fingering, mentions of oral sex and PIV sex, dirty talk, use of the word slut, Clyde gets jealous

Clyde holds you in his lap with your legs spread wide. Well, more accurately you are sitting between his thighs with your legs thrown open over his. It had started out as a quiet Sunday movie night. The two of you snuggled on the couch watching a romantic comedy while eating popcorn. That is until Clyde had paused the movie, wrapped one of his tree trunk arms around your middle and tugged you over.

He hadn’t given you any say in the matter, but the instant his flesh hand had pushed past the waistband of your sweatpants you were his. His kisses had been needy and rushed which wasn’t like your snuggly country bear. Most of the time he was reserved and gentle. But tonight? Tonight was pure heat. Now you found yourself with his hand between your legs and two thick fingers thrusting in and out of your cunt. You arch your hips into his touch already hot and wet around his digits. His thumb runs over your clit and you cry out, your entire body trembling against his broad chest. Clyde nudges the side of your face with his nose, to get closer to you. He groans, facial hair tickling the shell of your ear as he speaks. “Such a slut. Look how wet yer gettin’ for ma fingers. Say it .” “Wh-What’s gotten into you?” The words tumble out of your mouth before you can even fully process what he’s asked. “I saw ya lookin’ at that shirtless actor.” Clyde’s tone is nothing but stern gravel that sends shivers down your spine. It’s a tone he reserved for jerks causing a ruckus in the bar, but never for you. “What?” “Ya heard me, lil lady. I know that look. Ya want him.” You blink through your confusion, trying to make sense of it. “Clyde? Are you jealous?” You ask, totally stunned. He had never shown any signs of jealousy- had never had a reason to. From the moment you had laid eyes on the calm, easy going handsome bartender you had wanted no other. To hear him accuse you of lusting after someone, even over something silly like a movie star confuses you. To you the sun rose and set in Clyde’s eyes. “Yer damn right,” He grunts and presses his thumb to your clit. “I can’t stand that thought of ya lustin’ after another man.”

You whine at his accusation. “I wasn’t! Clyde! I was just watching the movie!”

“I know what I saw.” You shake your head, wanting to deny it but his fingers are ruthless, thrusting in and out of your soaked core. “Ya didn’t do as yer told. I said, ‘tell Sir how much of a slut ya are’.” Your eyes go wide. Breath getting lost in your throat. He only requested you use that title when he felt the need to own you. It reminded him of his days in the service- made him feel respected. Not that you minded. In fact, it turned you on when he got like this. Usually he was extremely gentle with his most prized possession, but when Sir came out to play the only thing on Clyde’s mind was dominating you. You welcome it. Hunger for it. “Y-Yes Sir. I’m a slut. Your slut!” How you manage to form words beyond your breathless moans is a mystery to you, but nonetheless it pleases Clyde. “Good girl.” He hums, giving you a peck to your temple.

It’s a softer move, something that’s more of Clyde’s normal nature — but you’re already aching for release. “More, Sir. Please more?” Clyde chuckles before turning his head to nibble on your earlobe. “A greedy slut I see. Ma girl is lucky I’m so givin’.” You hazily nod, willing to agree to anything as long as it gets you what you’re craving. His fingers pick up their pace. They move harder and faster, making your inner walls clench desperately around his digits. “Is this the more ya were wantin’, pretty girl?” You moan louder, head tilting back to rest on his shoulder. You meet his gaze, your eyes glassy from the pleasure he delivers to your cunt. “Sir is being so rough with my cunt.” Clyde hums in the affirmative. He sounds calm. As if he’s casually sipping coffee and not finger banging you on the couch. His thumb presses harder against your clit and you yelp. Your juices spill out and coat his fingers. Soon it would be dripping down onto the couch below. “Messy girl.” He groans the words. “I’ve always loved how messy this cunt gets.” You roll your hips in an attempt to keep up with his movements. It feels so good all you can do is want more. You’re chasing that feeling. That high that you only seem capable of reaching with Clyde’s help. And he knows you so well that he already knows what you’re doing. “That’s a good girl.” He praises, his own hips bucking against you. You can feel the bulge in the front of his camo shorts. It makes your mouth water. What you wouldn’t give to have your jaw stretched wide around it right now. If there was anything you loved it was being on your knees for your man. 

Through the years, you had plenty of friends who didn’t understand your proclivity for giving oral. You had never tried to make them understand your point of view. There was just something about wrapping your lips around a throbbing cock that made you salivate. And right now? Right now you wanted to be gagging on Clyde at the same time that he was fingering you. You’d give your soul for it. “Tell Sir how good his fingers feel buried in that little cunt.” His words shake you from your thoughts. You scramble to form words, fearful he’d stop thrusting if you didn’t. “It feels good. S-So good Sir! I love how you finger my pussy so rough and deep.” Clyde starts to leave open mouth kisses in the nape of your neck. “That’s because I know what ma pussy likes. Isn’t that right? It’s mine?” You're thoroughly drenched, making it that much easier for a third finger to slip inside you. Your moans morph into cries of intense pleasure. Your cunt is so full that it almost throws you over the edge. You scream his name, hands gripping his knees so tightly that your nails leave imprints behind. Clyde growls into your ear, his hardness pushed firmly against your back. Even through the layers of clothing you can feel how it throbs. The tips of his fingers stimulate your g-spot while his thumb mercilessly rubs at your clit. “Ya gonna give me an answer? Or are ya too close to cumin’?” You struggle. Too busy gasping for air. But you know you have to respond. “It’s your pussy Clyde! All yours! Can I cum? Please can I cum?” “Ya gonna keep starin’ at that actor like a piece of meat?” Your eyes roll back from a mix of bliss and frustration. Did he really believe you wanted anyone besides him? You currently don’t have the mental capacity to ponder it. Not when you need to cum. “No Sir. Never again, I swear! Please say I can cum!” When he speaks again his tone is low and serious. “Be good and cum for me. Cum and maybe it’ll earn ya Sir’s cock.” 

You don’t need to be told twice. You let go. The world beneath you falls away until it swallows you whole. You cum. Body trembling Toes curling. Breath hitching. Hips arching. Cunt gushing. All for Clyde. He praises you through it all. Even when your hearing becomes momentarily muffled from the overwhelming sound of your heartbeat — you can still make out his tender baritone voice. You come down from your orgasm slowly. The only thing that brings you back to the center of gravity is the warmth rolling off Clyde’s body. Your eyes flutter open, not realizing you had closed them to begin with. “There’s ma pretty girl. Ya did so well for me. Feel alright?” You swallow thickly, your throat feeling irritated from all the screaming. You settle on nodding since you’re certain your voice will crack the second you try to speak. The arms around you constrict into a tight hug. You can still feel his fingers buried deep inside you. A whimper is the first sound to leave you. You feel overstimulated and stretched out. Luckily you don’t need words for Clyde to understand. He carefully slips his fingers out and holds them up to inspect them. The three fingers that were once inside your cunt are now coated in clear sticky juices. Some of it had even made its way to his palm. You really had gushed all over him. Your cheeks burn at the thought. Clyde however has the biggest shit eating smile spread across his features. He always took pride in making his girl cum. Without a word he brings his fingers to his plush lips, taking all three into his mouth and sucking them clean. He groans at the taste. You can feel the flush in your cheeks traveling down your neck to your chest. But, as long as Clyde was pleased, so were you. “Ya taste damned delicious. Like a sweet cream.” He hums once he’s finished his task of sucking your cum off his fingers. “Clyde, you say that every time.” He laughs and playfully pinches your side. “That’s because it’s the truth. Nothin’ tastes better than ma girl.” You turn your face inwards and leave innocent kisses along his jawline. “As long as my Sir thinks so.” Even though you’d be calling him that through most of your play, the title still manages to leave Clyde purring. “Mmh, Sir does think so. Sir also thinks you’ve earned a reward.” Full lips brush along the shell of your ear. His words hold so much promise. “Does the lil lady want ma cock?” Fuck, do you ever. You nod and he helps you to shift so you’re able to lay back against the couch cushions. He puts one of the throw pillows under your head because he’s Clyde and no matter how possessive he was feeling — your comfort is still his top priority. He helps you to shimmy out of your sweatpants and throws them to the floor before straightening to his full height. He doesn’t hesitate to move his hands to the waistband of his shorts and push them off his hips. His cock springs free, throbbing red and angrily weeping from denial. Clyde groans in relief a small pout forming on his plush lips. He’s needy….. needy for you.

Your core clenches at the thought. “Open yer legs.” You obey, earning you a satisfied moan from the tall man looming over you. He allows himself a moment to admire the view. You’re all his and he takes in every inch before stepping out of his shorts and settling between your thighs. Usually he’d strip you both so there wasn’t anything keeping the two of you separated. However, it’s very clear from the lust in his gaze that his little game had made him antsy to ram his cock into you.

“Spread that pretty pussy open for Sir. I wanna look at what’s mine as I fuck it.”

Your thighs involuntarily shake. You forget to breathe as your hand glides down your body. When your fingers make contact with the lips of your cunt, you make a ‘v’ shape and use them to spread yourself. Giving Clyde an unfiltered view of your wrecked cunt.

He curses, taking the lord’s name in vain and lines himself up. You feel the mushroom shaped head probing your slit- seconds away from entering you. “We’re not finishing the rest of this movie tonight, are we?”  Clyde’s eyes flick back up to meet yours. He grins, teeth shining in the moonlight that pours in from the living room window, “Not a chance in hell, Sweetheart."

#logan lucky #clyde logan x you #clyde logan x female reader #lady in writing #adcu community #asmr #smut #adcu smut

[glassbxttless]

Clyde Logan x f!Reader

NSFW Alphabet: B (body part: their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Word Count: 577

Warnings: heavily focused on breasts, a slight lactation kink

Clyde is thankful for the layout of the trailer. How he can see through the bathroom door and the side of the shower from where he lays in bed after his own shower. He can hear your quiet hum, floating around him, as the pitter pattering of the water falling around your body. He blinks just a few times and sighs happily when he hears the water shut off. This is his favorite part of your mornings together. He listens to the shower curtain pull back and he catches a glimpse of you stepping out. Water droplets rolling down the curves of your body. And he focuses right at your chest.

The swell of your breasts has always been one of his favorite parts of your body, physically. There was obviously so much more to you that just something pretty to touch, feel, fuck. But he does let himself admire how your breasts become fuller with each pregnancy, how they feel so heavy when he holds them in his hands, how you can easily squeeze your nipple and have a thin stream of milk come pouring out. He can’t help the thoughts that flood into his brain as he watches you dry off. How he would love to lay you down on your back, get his cock snug in the valley of your tits, watching the tip disappear and reappear with each of his thrusts. He sighs heavily, jeans not doing much to hide his semi-hard bulge, as he watches you start to get ready for the day before he’s rolling out of bed, lugging his tired body into the bathroom with you.

You’re leaning over the counter just a bit, applying a layer of mascara as he presses up behind you. His left arm wrapping around your middle as he uses his right hand to tilt your face towards him for his morning kiss. His hand is dropping from your jaw, grazing over your tits. They’re only covered with the thin lace of your bra, he can still see the slight puff of your nipples. And he can feel the way they start to pebble up and harden under his touch. He cups one of your breasts, his fingers resting just under the swell. and he gives it a squeeze. You smile at him, loving the quiet moments you spend with one another before your children are getting up and causing more than a gentle roar. And when you hear the baby start to cry, you give his hip a gentle tap and you leave him looking in the mirror.

Clyde really loves his shoulders, they bear the weight of his kids when he rides them around, they keep you laughing when he tosses you over one to carry you into your bedroom. They’re broad, his t-shirts cling to them in a way that drives you absolutely wild— and he thinks of that as a perk. His shoulders are one of the only joints on his body that move with just as much ease as they did in his teens. And for that he’s forever thankful.

He loves when your hands start at his shoulders on long nights, gently working out the knots that have taken up residency there. He’d moan, roll his head side to side, he’d feel your lips against his skin. And you’ll inevitably leave the darkest mark there for his t-shirt to cover up.

Clyde Logan loves his shoulders and your tits.

*

*

@sacklerscumrag @miraclesabound @d-dark-thoughts-girl @xjsteph @fizzywoohoo @candycanes19 @thepriceofstars @2000andwhat @mariesackler @clydesducktape @loganluckylover @themuseic @clydesfavoritegirl @caillea @maybe-your-left @driversmutbucket @tashastrange89 @daughterofaries @cornmousequeen @alpha-lobito @mrs-kylo-ren @peachyproserpina @mrs-gucci @millenialcatlady @leatherboundbirate @jynzandtonic @paterson-blue @awkward-katiesaur @daydreamsofren @qvinteroexc @eagerforhoney @purplebtsmagic @hedgy-hog @jahnairis @simpin_mama @thepalaceofmelanie @emi11ie @theoncrayjoy @einmal-im-traum @starsandroots

#glassbxttless #glassbxttless adcu #clyde logan x female reader #clyde logan x you #clyde logan x reader #tw: breasts #tw: lactation kink

[hellotherepalpalpals]

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.”

#clyde logan #adam driver #logan lucky #mellie logan #x reader #female reader #reader insert #clyde logan x reader #clyde logan imagine

[mrs-gucci]

Fireside

{ clyde logan x female reader }

anon

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

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

word count: 1.19k

★ written for sextember 2023 ★

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

collage by me :)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I love you too Clyde."

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

****

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

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

#mrs-gucci #mrs-gucci's sextember #adcu #adcu fanfiction #adam driver fanfiction #adam driver character #adam driver smut #adcu fic #adam driver #adcu fanfic #logan lucky #clyde logan #clyde logan smut #clyde logan x reader smut #clyde logan x reader #clyde logan x you

[rottngdeer]

Masterlist

last updated - 14 April 2024

Asks/Requests || Open always, but I may be slow getting things posted due to college and work.

Fandoms I’m Currently Active In || NBC Hannibal

Fandoms I’ve Written For On This List || NBC Hannibal, Joker 2019, Tom Hiddleston/Loki, Adam Driver, Sherlock BBC

Hannibal NBC

Bloodsuckers Pt.1 , Pt.2 , Pt.3 , Pt.4 , Pt.5 — Hannibal Lecter x Vampire!Female!Reader x Will Graham (currently active)

Hannigram x Reader Gum Headcannons

Hannibal x Depressed!Reader

Joker 2019

Gotham Nights Pt.1 , Pt.2 — Arthur Fleck x Female!Reader (current dormant)

Arthur Fleck Relationship Headcannons

Loki/Tom

Tom Hiddleston Relationship Headcannons Loki Relationship Headcannons Mafia!Tom AU

Adam Driver

Clyde Logan Relationship Headcannons

Sherlock BBC

Sherlock Holmes Relationship Headcannons

#Doc Ock #otto octavius #icons #matching pfps #kylo ren #star wars #hannibal #hannibal lecter #hannibal nbc #tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston x reader #loki #loki x reader #marvel #headcannons #sherlock #arthur fleck #joker #poe dameron #artists on tumblr #artist #masterlist #alfred molina #adam driver #adam driver x reader #will graham #hannibal x reader #hannibal lecter x reader

[hopeamarsu]

Series and challenges

* = Smut

** = Stories that might have triggering content. Please read the tags and keep safe.

Year of Themed Creation 

Year of Firsts masterlist

The Moon in May

New Moon - Marcus Pike

Waxing Moon - Benny Miller

Full Moon - Will Miller

Crecent Moon - Marcus Pike

Mafia Madness 2022

Masterlist

Whumpmas 2021

Masterlist

Kinktober 2021

Masterlist

The Diletto series

Porcelain dildo - Pero Tovar

Wooden dildo - Clyde Logan

Vibration - Flip Zimmerman

Restraint - Frankie Morales

Close Shave

#1 - Frankie Morales

#2 - Clyde Logan

Writer Wednesday 

The Lockbox - Clyde Logan x gn!reader

Keep Her Safe - Frankie Morales x f!reader

Mirror, Mirror - Frankie Morales, childOFC, reader (no pairing)

Coming Home - Marcus Pike x fem!reader

Your concrete heart isn’t beating - Jack Daniels x fem!reader

4 minutes - Marcus Pike x gn!reader

The Magazine Photo ** - Frankie Morales x reader 

The Proposal - Clyde Logan x female reader

Drops - Flip Zimmerman x gn!reader

Don’t turn around - #12, Jack “Whiskey” Daniels x gn!reader

Promise - #10, no pairing (Adventures of little Ben Solo)

All Mine - #8, Adam Sackler x Phillip Altman

Moon and Starlight - #6, Ronnie Peterson x reader

LDD-11 - #5, no pairing (Adventures of little Ben Solo)

The Meaning of Words - #3, no pairing (Adventures of little Ben Solo)

The Growl - #2, no pairing

#writer wednesday #mafia madness #kinktober #the moon in may #writing challenges #the diletto series #whumpmas #close shave

[holdmytesseract]

Get the Girl

Clyde Logan x fem!Reader

Summary: With being the best friend of Mellie Logan for years, you got to know her two brothers quite good as well. You noticed whenever you were in the ‘Duck Tape’, that Clyde had cast an eye on you. And you? You liked him as well, but... Clyde was way too shy to ask you out and you were still a bit struggling to forget your ex. Can one of you two jump over your own shadow?

Warnings: Alcohol, fluff and probably some really bad attempts at writing the southern accent...

Word Count: 1,9k

a/n: I am so sorry. It happened again. I watched ‘Logan Lucky’ and well... Clyde is just such a sweetheart, ugh... I dunno if anyone wants to read this, but here you go... ^^ Oh and for everyone who doesn’t know: ‘Bubba’ means brother. Again a thank you goes out to @youlightmeupfinn​ ! <3

The Duck Tape. A cozy, unremarkable - but quite big bar in Boone County, West Virginia. Unspectacular, but loved by the local people. The Duck Tape had a lot of regular guests. Jimmy Logan for example. He often found himself in this bar in the evenings. Not just because his younger brother owed the bar, no. Daily life often caused him to drink a much needed shot of alcohol - or simply his after-work beer. Just like tonight. The eldest of the Logan's slumped in the bar, straight towards the counter and took a seat on one of the barstools, sighing. He needed something strong after another fight he had with his ex-wife Bobbie Jo. To Jimmy's delight played the jukebox softly John Denver's 'Take Me Home, Country Roads' in the background. A great welcome, Jimmy thought. "Hey man," Jimmy greeted his brother, who was currently polishing one of the glasses, absently; gaze directed across the counter. He didn't answer his brother, was seemingly lost in thoughts. "Hey." He tried again. It was no use. Jimmy's eyes followed his brother's stare - and landed on a young woman with pitch Y/H/C hair and sparkling Y/E/C eyes. She wore a black and red plaid shirt, where the ends were tied together in a knot in front of her stomach, turning the shirt into some sort of tummy shirt. Underneath, she wore a white top, paired with some jeans shorts. Well, no one could blame her. It was in the middle of the summer and therefore quite warm outside. The woman was laughing and chatting along with another woman - who he identified as his sister, Mellie. They were good friends. It wasn't the first time Jimmy had seen this girl in here. In fact, Jimmy knew her well. After all, she was the best friend of his sister. Jimmy would label him and Y/N as close acquaintances - or probably even friends? She lived not far away, was a southern girl to the core and a very lively, happy and bright woman. Beautiful, no doubt. What also wasn't the first time, was that he had caught his dear baby brother staring at her. "Clyde." Jimmy called his name a tad louder, finally making the big man turn his head towards him, blinking. "When are you finally goin' to ask 'er out, huh?" Clyde blinked again and put the now thoroughly polished glass aside to grab a beer for his brother. "Who?" Jimmy rolled his eyes. "Oh come on, man..." He knew that his brother hadn't quite the guts to talk to women. Clyde was shy in his nature and a very quiet fella on top. A thing you wouldn't think of upon seeing the big hunk of a man. Clyde was tall and broad with a very deep voice. To someone who didn't know him, could he be quite intimidating. But behind his appearance hid a shy, timid and very friendly guy. Jimmy guessed this was what people would call a gentle giant. "You can't fool me, lil' brother. I saw you lookin' at 'er. You doin' it all the damn time, when she's 'ere." Clyde put on his signature little pout, deep brown eyes meeting Jimmy's green ones. "I can't speak to 'er." Jimmy frowned at Clyde's words. "Why not? 'S not that you didn't talk to 'er before. You know Y/N, after all." The black-haired man sighed. "I know, but..." "But what?" Cut Jimmy him off. "It's obvious that you're into 'er. You like that girl." Clyde shrugged his shoulders. "'Cause I am me." "What's that supposed to mean, eh?" The brown-haired man took sip of his beer, looking critically at his counterpart. A sigh left Clyde's lips. "Think 'bout it, Jimmy. Would a woman like Y/N really want a guy like me?" Now was Jimmy the one who shrugged his shoulders. "Why not? You're a great fella." "With a prosthetic arm." "So?" Clyde huffed, turned away from his brother and went to ask the two men who just entered the bar what they wanted to drink. Jimmy watched him work, followed his every move. This discussion wasn't over yet. He was sick and tired of Clyde dancing around Y/N. "What if she likes you, too?" His little brother looked up at him, while pouring the men two glasses of Whiskey. "I doubt that." Jimmy's gaze drifted shortly to his sister and Y/N, noticing how the Y/H/C haired woman looked at his younger brother. "Well, she's lookin' at you now." Jimmy saw Clyde swallowing. "She looked at you, too. Nothin' extraordinary." Jimmy rolled his eyes, was on the verge of despair. "Clyde!" Mellie's voice cut through the brothers conversation. Clyde turned his head towards his little sister. "Could you make us another Martini?" "Of course." He put the two glasses with Whiskey in front of the two men and went to pour two Martinis. Once finished, he brought them over to the two women. "There you go." "Thanks, bubba." Mellie winked. "Thank you, Clyde." Y/N said, offering the timid barkeeper a smile, which he returned shyly. Jimmy couldn't believe his eyes. "You can serve cocktails to 'er but not ask 'er out on a date?" Clyde shrugged his shoulders once again, nodding. "Yes." "Ugh." Jimmy rolled again his eyes, grabbed the half empty bottle of beer and sauntered over to Sam and Fish, who stood at the billiard table, playing. Unbeknownst to Clyde, shot Jimmy his sister an annoyed and slightly desperate look. Mellie knew. Was, of course, not blind as well. After all, acted her big brother not quite inconspicuous when it came to stare at Mellie's best friend. And Y/N? Well... "He's starin' again." Mellie whispered towards her friend, bumping her shoulder softly against hers. "I know..." Y/N whispered back, feeling how her cheeks reddened slightly. Mellie giggled and downed the rest of her Martini. "I think you stole my big brother's heart, girl." "Seems so, yeah." Mellie threw Y/N a smug smile. "'N what 'bout you?" Clyde Logan... Y/N had always liked him. She thought he was a very friendly and nice guy and adored his utter shyness. Unlike other girls, she accepted his quiet nature and his introverted self. She always had some kind of soft spot for the youngest of the Logan boys, but she didn't know if she would call it 'having feelings'. In the end, Y/N couldn't deny that she found him quite attractive. Not just his unique personality. Also his looks. Tall, broad, black long hair and deep brown eyes. She didn't care that he wasn't as clattered with muscles and rather a bit chubby. Quite the opposite... She loved it. Clyde Logan was a big, handsome teddy bear. And his prosthetic arm? Made him even more unique to her. Y/N let out a breath, sighing. "I dunno, really. It's just... Dean 'n I-" "Quit thinkin' 'bout this idiot already!" Mellie interrupted her friend immediately. "Dean made it very clear, that he wants nothin' anymore from you, didn't he?" The Y/H/C haired woman grimaced. "Sorta..." Mellie huffed out a breath. "Alright, alright... We approach this the other way 'round..." Y/N furrowed her eyebrows at her best friend in slight confusion. "Switch off the Dean section in your brain. He doesn't exist in your life anymore. Can you do that?" "Uhm... O-kay, yes?" "Now look over to Clyde." "Why?" "Jus' do it!" Y/N took a breath and did what Mellie said, looked over to Clyde. Just in that very moment, just like fate wanted it, started the jukebox to play 'With Or Without You' by U2. Y/N's eyes met Clyde's and suddenly she felt like she was falling. But it wasn't the bad kind of falling, no... It was okay for her to fall, knowing that the man standing a few feet away from her would catch her, before she could hit the ground. Y/N felt how her heartbeat sped up, banging quickly against her ribcage. The sudden fluttery feeling inside her belly overwhelmed her completely and as soon as Clyde threw her that innocent, cute smile - completely unaware of what he had just unleashed inside her, she couldn't take it anymore and looked away. Mellie smirked at her reaction. "What you thinkin' 'bout him now?" "I-I, uh..." Y/N felt how her cheeks turned red. "Ha! Your blushin'! I knew it!" "I always liked Clyde. Since we two became friends... Jus' not in that way..." Y/N stammered, kneaded her fingers nervously. "But now..." "Now you do?" "Kinda? Maybe?" Mellie looked at the Y/H/C woman quizzically. "Well... There's... somethin'." The youngest Logan squealed excitedly and smiled broadly. "Mellie!" She just giggled. "Girl, you've got to ask him out for a date!" Y/N's eyes widened. "B-But Dean-" "For god's sake... Forget 'bout this twat! Your dream man's standin' right over there!" Mellie nodded towards her brother, grinning. "Clyde's jus' way too shy to ask you first, so you need to make the first step." Y/N grimaced and twisted the glass Martini in her hand. "You think?" Mellie nodded. "I know it." The Y/H/C haired woman sighed and bit her lip, thinking. Was she really ready to move on from her ex? After all, Dean was the one to break up and she had always liked Clyde... Maybe her best friend was right... So, what did she has to lose? Why not give it a shot and see what comes out of it? "Aight... Imma go, ask him now." Mellie's eyes widened. She clearly didn't expect this. She thought she would need to work harder for Y/N to agree to go on a date with her brother. "Really? Like... Right now?" Y/N nodded, downed the rest of her cocktail and stood up. She walked along the big counter, towards the middle, where Clyde was, currently pouring what looked like Brandy inside a glass. "Hey, Clyde." At the sound of Y/N, calling his name, Clyde lifted his head to look at her. Y/N didn't waste any time, didn't even let Clyde answer. "Would you like to go on a date with me?" "O-On a d-date?" The man asked, shocked and in disbelief; almost spilling some of the alcoholic liquid. "W-With y-you?" He is really cute when he's all shy and nervous, Y/N thought. She nodded, smiling. "A-Are you sure 'bout that? Me?" "You're the only guy, I'd ever go on a date with, Clyde." Alright, and Dean. But apparently, Dean was history, so... Y/N noticed how the big man behind the counter swallowed visibly, blinking. Clyde lifted his gaze and saw how Jimmy stood in the background, nodding wildly, mouthing something along 'Yes! Say yes!' and 'Go, get her, tiger!', all the while giving his brother two thumbs up. Clyde blinked once more, before he started to nod. "O-Okay..." He immediately shook his head. "I-I mean, of course! Yes! I'd love to go on a date with ya!" Y/N's lips twitched into a smile. How could a man be so soft and sweet? "See you tomorrow then? Meet me here at 8?" "Y-Yes, perfect." Y/N flashed Clyde an even wider smile. "Great." Then she walked over to her barstool again and sat down beside Mellie, who squealed excitedly again. Jimmy also made his way over to his younger brother. He leaned over the counter and clapped him on the shoulder, grinning. "And you say she isn't interested in you... Congrats, lil' brother. You've got a date now." Clyde looked at his brother, with an expression on his face, which literally screamed: Help me! How am I goin' to do that?!

#logan lucky #clyde logan x female reader #clyde logan x reader #clyde logan x you #clyde logan x y/n #clyde logan imagine #clyde logan one shot #clyde logan fanfiction #adam driver character

[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!

#adcu #adcu fanfiction #adcu smut #adam driver nation #adam driver fanfic #clyde logan x y/n #clyde logan fan fiction #clyde logan x reader #clyde x you #clyde logan/reader #clyde logan x you #clyde logan fanfiction #clyde logan fluff #logan lucky fanfiction #clyde x reader #clyde logan x reader #clyde logan x female reader #clyde logan

[lady-morrigen]

Wild Mountain Honey

PAIRING: Clyde Logan x Fem!Reader

KINKTOBER DAY 8 PROMPT: Size Difference

WORDS: 1350-ish... idk i'm sorry

WARNINGS: brief mentions of alcohol, fingering, p in v, unprotected sex (do as i say, not as i do)

A/N: I know, I know, I know... I can't do anything on time. It's still the 8th on the West Coast, I think. Was anyone gonna tell me how hard it is to write for Clyde?! I just wanted to do him justice and ended up overthinking EVERYTHING. Everything about him screams comfort and security to me. He is the ultimate himbo and I would die for him, ok? Also, I know that he's wearing a Bob Seger tee and not Steve Miller Band, but it stands to reason that he would have both... right?

Everything about Clyde Logan made you feel small; the way he lumbered around his home, hunched over the stove as he made breakfast, or towered behind you, comforting and safe, when drunken idiots would get smart with you at the bar.

It was what drew you to him, actually. You were a self reliant woman with a feisty spirit, sure. It’s what had drawn him to you. He’d seen the way you handled yourself behind the bar and knew he had to have you there by his side.

The two of you moved in tandem, circling each other, complimenting the other perfectly as you kept the drinks flowing, night after night. After a while, you both realized that your working relationship wasn’t enough. You wanted to orbit each other through all aspects of life, so you did.

After a particularly long night at the bar, you returned to the home you now shared, kicking off your shoes at the door and settling in as Clyde squeezed his way into the tiny kitchen for a beer.

“You know, I figured you’d be pretty sick of beer by this point,” you said, laughing as you collapsed onto the couch. He lumbered over to where you sat, the couch dipping beneath his weight as he wrapped his arm around your shoulder.

“Hmmm… maybe,” his lower lip curved into his signature pout as he pondered your point. “I suppose I wouldn’t have made it my life’s work if I didn’t love it though.”

You chuckled and gave his bicep an affectionate squeeze before pushing yourself off of the couch and into a full-body stretch. He gripped your thigh with his large hand, looking up at you through his thick lashes, adoration evident on his face. You reached up and brushed back a lock of his long brown hair, caressing his cheek with your thumb and bending to place a chaste kiss to his plush lips.

“You can shower first tonight,” he said. “I’d join you but that didn’t quite work out so well last time.”

He was right. The last time the two of you had attempted to shower together, Clyde nearly broke the curtain rod when he lost his balance reaching for the soap. The shower was barely big enough for him, let alone both of you.

When you finished, you stepped into the bedroom to find Clyde sitting on the edge of the bed waiting for you.

“There’s my pretty girl,” he said. He smiled and reached for you, waiting for you to step into his embrace. When you did, he wrapped his arm tightly around your waist and rested his face against the soft fabric of your towel, inhaling deeply. “You smell so nice.”

You ran your fingers gingerly through his hair as you stood there, savoring how comforting it felt to be completely enveloped by him. You stayed like that for a moment before pushing him away and wrinkling your nose in mock disgust.

“And you smell like beer. I left some hot water for you. Go shower. I’ll be here waiting when you get back.” You helped pull him up, smacking his ass as he headed to the bathroom.

You decided to forego getting into your pajamas, instead opting for one of Clyde’s comfy band tees, chuckling as the fabric fell halfway to your thighs. You lit a couple of candles and propped yourself against the pillows to scroll on your phone as you waited for him to finish with his shower. You were just about to nod off when you heard the water shut off.

A few moments later, he emerged from the bathroom, the bath sheet draped around his waist and wet hair clinging to his neck. You would never get tired of seeing him like this. His broad chest was glistening as the water dripped lazily between his defined pecs, making a path down his solid torso and disappearing behind the lip of the towel.

When he caught sight of you, wearing nothing but his ratty old Steve Miller Band tee, he stopped in his tracks. You put your phone away and crawled across the bed, coming to stand on your knees in front of him and beckoning him with a crook of your finger. When you pulled your bottom lip between your teeth and peered up at him from beneath your lashes, he let go of the towel, letting it fall to the floor at his feet.

He towered over you for a moment, just staring down at you, his chest slowly moving up and down as he tried to control his breathing. In a flash, he had you laid back against the pillows, caging you in with his body and nuzzling his nose against yours. His hand trailed along the length of your thigh, pulling the hem of his t-shirt with it, until it came to rest at the apex of your thighs.

You gasped at his feather-light touch, rolling your hips in search of more. His eyes fluttered closed as he dragged a knuckle through your folds, gathering your slick and teasing your entrance with the calloused pad of his middle finger.

“Have you been out here waitin on me, baby?” he whispered softly. You bit your lip and nodded quickly, a gasp escaping your lips as he pushed his finger in to the first knuckle. “If I had known, I wouldn’t have taken so long.”

You cupped his cheek, closing the distance between you as you captured his mouth in a feverish kiss.

“Clyde… please.” You were practically begging him now as his finger continued pumping lazily in and out of you, his thumb circling your clit as you bucked against him.

His lips found your neck as he removed his hand and you protested with a whine, quickly silenced as he lined himself up at your entrance and sheathed himself inside of you with a groan. You cried out, clinging to his shoulders as he began to roll his hips, teeth nipping at the tender skin of your neck as he pushed deeper and deeper.

Grabbing your wrists, he pinned them above you with his large hand as he picked up the pace. Your legs were wrapped around his thick waist, holding on for dear life and angling him deeper to hit just the right spot to have your vision go white with pleasure. The room was filled with the obscene sounds of your sex as Clyde growled low and menacing into the shell of your ear. You bit down into the flesh of his shoulder to stifle your moans as you felt your release building like a wave cresting higher and higher.

“Come on, baby. Wanna hear those pretty sounds you make just for me.”

All at once, stars burst behind your eyes and you clenched around him, crying out his name as your body writhed under his. He followed soon after, spilling inside of you with a pant and dropping his forehead to rest against yours. He released your wrists and rolled, pulling you to rest atop his large chest.

As you lay there, his hand drew circles on the small of your back as your heart rates returned to normal. He gently kissed the top of your head as he slipped out from underneath you and off to the bathroom to grab a warm washcloth. When he returned, he tenderly cleaned you up, tossing the rag to the floor and pulling you close to rest against him.

You brought a hand up to play with his hair, still damp from the shower, and breathed in the familiar scent of him. As you listened to the gentle rise and fall of his breathing, you felt the seduction of sleep drawing you in. When you tilted your head up towards him, his eyes were closed, serenity softening his features, and he looked as if he was already asleep.

“I love you, Clyde” you whispered softly as you leaned over to blow out the candle.

You couldn’t see it, but a dreamy smile played at the corners of his lips.

“I love you too.”

For my love, @acrossthesestars. I know this big, soft man makes your brain short circuit.

#tppkinktober2021 #kinktober 2021 #kinktober #clyde logan #adam driver #logan lucky #adcu #adcu fanfiction #clyde logan x reader #clyde logan x you #clyde logan x female reader #smut

[glassbxttless]

Hi! can i please request “ if there’s nothing going on between the two of you, you don’t mind if i ask her out on a date, do you? “ with clyde please🥰

Clyde Logan x Reader

Word Count: 1,039

Warnings: non descriptive smut, alcohol mentioned, brief infidelity/cheating

“we’re still on for tonight, right?” you smile as you stop at Clyde’s locker that he’s just now closing. he’s been your best friend for as long as you can remember and he’s shopping off in just a few short weeks.

“mhm. just come on by after dinner, yeah?” Clyde mumbles as you both walk out to the parking lot, chatting about those final papers you had due in just a week. everything you’ve known for ages was ending. your normal was changing. clyde was leaving the safety of west virginia and you’re never going to be able to tell him how you feel. you can’t put that burden on him. you watch as clyde slides into the seat of that old pickup truck as you climb into your own car.

clyde isn’t ready when jimmy bursts into his room later that evening. he’s sitting at the desk in his room, notebook and textbook both open in front of him. “your lil’ friend coming over tonight?” he asks, hands placed on both sides of the door frame.

clyde looks up from his work, eyeing jimmy in the doorway before he nods. he flicks his hair away from his eyes quietly, “why?”

jimmy shrugs a little, “settin the table for ma.” he pushes himself off of the frame, turns on his heal and clyde can hear each thump of his boots as he bounces down the stairs. clyde sighs heavily as he stares at the empty door. god how he wishes he could hold you, kiss you, love you, before he leaves. he’s waited too long. and now he really doesn’t want to mess up your friendship.

and after dinner, mama logan sits on the couch and spoils you with stories of her boys while clyde washes the dishes. this is the last weekend you all will spend with him altogether after all. and you don’t even notice when jimmy slips away from the living room over to where clyde is. “you like her?”

clyde cocks up an eyebrow as he looks jimmy over, continuing to wash up the dishes from dinner. “no, we’re just friends.” he replies, even his heart stings when he says it. chest clenching and insides getting hot. he hates lying about his feelings for you. but this way, he’ll get over you. the way you look, the way you sound, the way you feel against him when you hug him. he closes his eyes for a moment and shrugs again. “nothin is goin on between us.”

“yeah? well if nothing is goin on between y’all, you don’t mind if i ask her out? she’s gonna get lonely with you gone.” he shrugs and that almost sends steam out of clyde’s ears. he turns his head to look at his brother. to take in if this was a genuine ask and then he gives his head a quick shake.

“i don’t mind.” he lies as he watches jimmy steal you away from his mother. and maybe he sees him kiss you goodnight and his heart completely shatters.

and it isn’t until years later, when he’s coming home from his last tour without the arm he left with that he sees you again. the letters had stopped after a while and he figured you lost interest in your friendship. he sees that you’re hooked onto jimmy’s arm at a cousin’s wedding, explaining that he was just a friend. but clyde sees the way his brother is looking at you. he knows he’s in love, but he also knows that you’re not. he’s seen you in love before.

clyde’s nursing a beer at the back of the reception, smiling at those who think to speak to him. who say they’re sorry to hear about his mama. who are sorry to hear about his arm. but then there’s you noticing clyde is here— and it’s the first time you’ve seen him since that night. and you want to wrap him up in the tightest hug you can. “clyde?” you smile, walking up. clyde nods at you, acknowledging your presence beside him. “it’s nice to see you.”

“it’s nice to see you too.” he mumbles, reaching out and pulling you into one of the tightest hugs he can muster. he’s in his early twenties now, you notice he’s filled out. he’s not so skinny, not so gangly, not so young looking. his hair is growing out, but definitely shorter than you knew him to keep it. you feel his fingers splaying on your lower back, “you and jimmy, huh?”

“yeah.” you sigh quietly, and clyde can tell you’re unhappy with just that one expression. “i guess so.”

he is quiet as he sips his beer, your eyes are falling over to jimmy every now and again— wondering what you even saw in him in the first place. and you realize, you just had the wrong brother. you never felt right curling into jimmy’s body, not like you felt when you would hug clyde during hard nights. you never felt the connection on those weekend trips with jimmy, not like those flickers you would feel when clyde would laugh and smile over at you in Ms. Sparks math class. and you’re hooking your arm around the one Clyde had lost and you shoot that same smile that he fell in love with up at him and he can’t help it.

that night, you don’t go home with jimmy. you tell him you’ve got some things to take care of. and clyde, oh clyde, he’s got you under his comforter— pushing himself deeper and deeper inside of you, watching you come undone beneath him, listening to you whimper his name. you leave pretty scratches on his back, ones he’s proud to show off at jimmy’s barbecue that next weekend. You both know what happened and your cheeks feel hot when jimmy asks about them.

and clyde gets jimmy alone, grinning as they both sip from their beers— “so you two have something going on?” clyde asks quietly and jimmy just nods.

“sort of off and on.” he shrugs, “why?”

and he repeats that line he heard so many years before, “wouldn’t mind if i asked her out on a date… would you?”

*

*

@sacklerscumrag @mrs-zimmerman @miraclesabound @d-dark-thoughts-girl @xjsteph @fizzywoohoo @candycanes19 @thepriceofstars @2000andwhat @mariesackler @clydesducktape @loganluckylover @themuseic @clydesfavoritegirl @caillea @maybe-your-left @driversmutbucket @tashastrange89 @daughterofaries @cornmousequeen @alpha-lobito @mrs-kylo-ren @peachyproserpina @mrs-gucci @millenialcatlady @leatherboundbirate @jynzandtonic @paterson-blue @awkward-katiesaur @daydreamsofren @qvinteroexc @eagerforhoney @purplebtsmagic @hedgy-hog @jahnairis @simpin_mama @thepalaceofmelanie

#glassbxttless #glassbxttless adcu #clyde logan x female reader #clyde logan x you #clyde logan x reader #tw: cheating #tw: infidelity #tw: non descriptive smut #tw: alcohol consumption

[sacklerscumrag]

Happier

Clyde Logan X Fem!Reader

Notes: It's been a little over four months since I've posted anything oops 🤷🏼‍♀️ but I'm hoping to get back into it soon.

Warnings: just some Christmas morning fluff and kissing our favorite country boy :)

Word Count: 780

The crisp air and heavy snow mounting outside your window had you practically trembling under your soft duvet. Your eyes fluttered in the morning glow when you felt a firm hand grasp at your sides, fingers digging lightly into your flesh. The warmth emanating from Clyde's bare chest on your cheek had you nestling impossibly close to him, a lazy grin making its way onto your lips.

"Mornin'." He spoke into your hair, making you look up towards him, affection pooling in your chest at the sight of a drowsy morning Clyde.

"Good morning." Your hand cradled his face, gently bringing him closer to you. His lips were soft and pillowy against your own. They parted slightly, allowing your tongue to slip inside, gently moving with one another. The need to have each other quickly became urgent. Still, Clyde slowly drew himself away, pressing a kiss to your forehead, noticing the sleepy hum you gave him once you settled back into his arms.

"Sleep, darlin." You were ready to protest, to tell him you weren't tired, wanting nothing more than to savor being in each other's arms just a little longer. But it wasn't long before sleep overtook you as Clyde mindlessly played with your hair between whispers of 'I love yous,' lulling you back into your slumber.

-------

You woke up to a ringing sound growing louder outside of your bedroom door. Rolling yourself out of bed and slipping on the nearest piece of clothing, you strolled over to the kitchen and pushed yourself up to sit on the counter beside an otherwise occupied Clyde. Quietly observing him juggle all of your breakfast favorites at once, smiling to yourself as you took in the delectable scent of burnt bacon.

"What's all this?" His eyes lit up at the sight of you perched up next to him, biting down on your lower lip, dressed in only his favorite Bob Seger shirt, as he carefully set down the skillet in his hand to walk over and place a quick peck on your lips.

"Well, it's our first Christmas Eve together, darlin'. Wanted it to be perfect." You smirked at his words, touched that this big bear of a man would put so much effort into making this day special for you. How did you get so lucky?

"So when's everyone coming over?" You sought as your mind filled with images of the Logans gathered around the tree you and Clyde put so much work into, all while having little Sadie make her way through all of her presents.

"Have ya seen the snow out? No one goin anywhere 'M afraid." You furrowed your brows in disappointment before Clyde turned, giving you a heartfelt smile, letting you know just how content he was at spending the entire day just the two of you. He continued to plate some bacon and eggs fresh off the stove and settled the plates on the counter beside you. "Guess I got ya all to ma self today." You chewed on your bottom lip as you slowly slid off of the counter and made your way over to him, enclosing your arms around his broad waist, tenderly pressing a kiss to his back, making Clyde turn in your arms.

"I still have to give you your present." You said as you rested your chin on Clyde's chest, marveling at the sheepish grin adorning his face as his eyes locked with yours.

"Darlin, you didn't have to get me nothin'. Havin', you is enough." Adoration filled his eyes as he tucked a stray hair behind your ear. "Besides, I got ma gift right here." Clyde hunched over slightly, tightening his hold on you while placing kisses on the sensitive skin on the side of your neck that had you giggling and squirming in his arms. "And I can't wait to unwrap you again and again and again." He mumbled, taking his time to taste every inch of you he could. You grew weaker under his touch, your fingers tangled in his hair, trying to somehow press him closer to you.

Your mind no longer able to form the words, lost in the way he was praising you with his lips as yours parted between gasps and moans, watching him work every sensitive spot on your body with precision. His large palm slid behind you, bunching up your t-shirt while kneading the flesh of your thighs and cupping your ass until he set you back and laid you down on the countertop. "Now, stay real still for me, baby." Clyde's tone darkened, matching the ravenous look in his eyes.

Maybe being snowed in on Christmas Eve wouldn't be so bad.

#clyde logan x female reader #clyde logan #fluff #christmas #clyde logan x reader #god this is bad #please bear with me as i attempt to write again #i dont think im even putting this on my masterlist #lmao #unedited as always because thats just who i am at this point #ive accepted it #okay im running away now goodnight

[drivinmrdriver]

Clyde Logan with a Spiritual!Reader:

* When you tell Clyde about your journey with your spirituality he is nothing less than supporting

* “I found some rocks at the railroad for your collection!”

* He is particularly fond of the aromatherapy aspect and can’t help the boyish smirk as he sees you with massage oils. ‘Oh this will lead to some fun nights’

* He lets you practice your work on him a lot placing the crystals on his back and soothing him.

* Jimmy of course has to visit during one session.

* “Brother….I shouldn’t ask this probably but….what’s she doing to you?”

* “Shut it, Jimmy. She’s aligning my chanclas.”

* “Baby….it’s Chakras….I’m aligning your chakras.”

* He even partakes in your yoga

* Couples yoga becomes a new favorite of both of yours with him occasionally pelvic thrusting into you causing you to fall over with a snort.

* He gets poked fun of a lot by his siblings for it.

* “God Clyde, what is that awful stench?”

* “Of course you think it smells awful Jimmy. You reek of negative energy. Get that energy away from my wife and I.” *shoos him away with incense*

* Soon enough he knows as much as you and keeps some clear quartz under the bar for protection

* When you begin trying for a baby he researches as many spiritual fertility treatments and massages as possible to help you however he can.

* Makes you two cups of Red Raspberry Leaf Tea a day giddy with the prospect of making a little tea baby

* He’s created a new code by handing you a crystal to tell you his moods

* *hands you a rose quartz wiggling his brows suggestively*

#adam driver x you #clyde logan #clyde logan x female reader #clyde logan x you #spiritualteacher #headcanon

[starlightsearches]

Drag Queens and Diamond Rings

Clyde Logan x Reader (F)

Requests Are Open ✨

AN: This is a just a silly little story I had an idea for a while ago and I wanted to write it down. This is fluff, some discussions of marriage 😘 I'd love to hear your thoughts!!

Their hair enters first.

Big, tall wigs—and even bigger personalities—Clyde does a double take when the three ladies seat themselves at the bar top in a shower of glitter and giggles, their long lashes kicking up a breeze that sends a chill over his skin.

He’s seen ladies like these before, on the television, performing in pageants like Sadie used to do. What did Mellie call them again?

That’s right, drag queens.

The bar is empty—it’s a little too early for his regular customers to be in just yet, and it’s nice to have some work to do at this time of day. Clyde lets out a deep breath.

“Hello ladies,” he says, throwing the towel in his hand under the bar, “what can I get for ya?”

The one nearest to him smiles, stretching her mouth wide, showing off a perfect row of white teeth behind her shiny pink lips. Her skin is smooth and glittered, the cotton candy curls of her wig pooling against her forehead. “Well, well, well,” she says, stretching her gloved hand forward for a shake, “hi handsome.”

He takes it, palm sweating, as the rest of them introduce themselves, offering him silly names like Jurrasica Park, and Hazel Nutt. The last girl takes his hand, she’s got electric blue eyes, too blue to be natural, and ice blonde hair resting over her bare shoulder. She winks one heavy black lash, her voice low and sultry.

“My name’s Aura.”

Clyde flushes. These gals are real nice—and a little bit easier to work with than some of his other clients—but this isn’t the kind of attention he’s used to. He pulls his hand back, rubbing it on his jeans, the back of his neck growing warm.

Then he feels your fingers at his bicep, and he can breathe again, your familiar touch instantly bringing him calm.

“Sorry ladies,” you say, his saving grace as always, “but he’s taken.”

The rest of the girls laugh, a few of them faking some over-the-top tears, but Aura is determined.

“Hold on, wait just a minute—” she says, reaching for your left hand, examining it with an analytic stare, hamming the action up with a cheeky glance towards her friends, “—if he’s your man, why am I not seeing a ring, hmmm?”

The rest of the girls erupt in a chorus of ooooohs, and you laugh along.

“I guess because he hasn’t asked me yet,” you say with a shrug, pulling out a few glasses. “Tell you what, we can fight over him in the parking lot later. How about a drink first?”

Aura kisses her teeth, but eventually reaches for the glass, taking a sip. “Alright, but don’t think I’m gonna forget.”

Clyde stands at your side, watching you take their orders, listening to the five of you laugh.

“Hey, sweetheart,” you turn to him, stroking your hand down over his arm “would you mind getting some ice from the back?”

“Are ya sure ya don’t want me to handle this, darlin’?” he asks, shifting from foot to foot. You don’t usually like to work the bar on your own.

“You know I can’t carry those buckets by myself,” you say with a little frown, and even though you’ve filled the ice on your own plenty of times, he walks into the back, gnawing on his lip as he shovels some ice into the buckets.

Because he hasn’t asked me yet. Those words play on repeat in the back of Clyde’s mind. Did you mean it?

You might have been joking. It was an off-hand comment, but he can’t get it out of his head: you with a shiny diamond ring on your finger, you in a white dress, in his bed night after night, in his trailer every morning, in his life, for forever.

He wants that real bad, so bad it could kill him. But do you?

He takes both the buckets in one hand, lifting them still with relative ease as he makes his way back to the front, plopping them both down on the bartop. You’re still giggling along with the queens, a drink of your own in your hand as you ask them about their dresses, and their makeup, and the shows they do.

Clyde’s still in his own little world as he takes the first ice bucket and empties it into the cooler drawer, ice rumbling as it pours. He doesn’t know that the bar’s gone silent until after the bucket is empty.

“What’re y’all staring at?” he turns, feeling eyes on him. His face grows warm when he sees the way you're tracing over the contoured muscle of his arm with your gaze.

You smile, looking a bit embarrassed yourself. “Nothing, love. You’re just real handsome.”

He flushes down to his toes, turning back to the other ice bucket, but he doesn’t miss the soft whisper from across the bar.

“Damn girl, you’re one lucky woman.”

After a few more rounds the ladies leave—apparently Aura did forget him after a few shots—and the regular crowd arrives, keeping both you and Clyde busy until last call.

You’re mopping the floor as he restocks the bar, working together in companionable silence as you clean up for the night. He swallows, glancing at you periodically, nerves crawling up his arms like flies.

“Hey,” he says, too quietly—it seems you’re lost in thought—and he clears his throat, waiting for you to look at him, “did ya mean what you said . . . before?”

“About what, love?” you ask, ringing out the mop before setting it to the side.

You’re leaning up against the bar, smiling at him. He’s had so little peace in the last few years, so much hurt. It didn’t stop when he met you, but it got . . . quieter. He likes knowing that you’ll be here when he needs you.

“About—” he swallows, his lips pressed together in a pout, “—marryin’ me?”

Your eyes go wide, stiffening up like a deer sensing something in the brush, unsure whether or not it’s a predator. It takes a moment for you to relax, dropping your shoulders, vulnerability on full display. “Yeah, Clyde, I meant it.”

Oh. He can’t help but beam, the two of you giggling at each other, high on sincerity, on knowing you’re wanted in the way you’re wanting.

“Alright. Good. That's- that's real good to know. I’ll, uh, I’ll be right back.”

He walks quickly to his office, shutting the door behind him before picking up the receiver, dialing Jimmy’s phone number with shaking fingers. The phone rings in time with the tap of Clyde’s boot against the floor.

“Hey Clyde,” Jimmy’s voice crackles over the phone, his words heavy with sleep, “d’you know what time it is?”

Clyde doesn’t answer his question. He’s only got one word for his brother.

“Cauliflower.”

#clyde logan x reader #clyde logan x you #clyde logan/reader #clyde logan/you #clyde logan x female reader #clyde logan fanfiction #clyde logan fic #clyde logan #adcu fanfiction #adcu fic #my writing