#clyde logan x you

[reveluving]

red lipstick ; adam driver characters headcanons

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

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

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

» check out my full m.list!

✧･ﾟ Jacques Le Gris

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

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

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

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

✧･ﾟ Flip Zimmerman

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

Keyword: nearly.

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

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

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

✧･ﾟ Clyde Logan

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

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

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

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

✧･ﾟ Kylo Ren

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

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

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

✧･ﾟ Charlie Barber

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

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

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

Yes, your husband's in paradise, indeed.

✧･ﾟ Commander Mills

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

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

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

˚ · . f i n . · ˚

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

ETUDE Fixing Tint in Analog Rose/Vintage Red

Dior Rouge Dior Lipstick in 999

Stunna Lip Paint Longwear Fluid Lip Color in Uncensored

PERIPERA Ink Airy Velvet in Full Red Brick (11)

#— reve's reverie 🌹 #adcu #adcu x reader #adam driver #adam driver x reader #jacques le gris #jacques le gris x reader #jacques le gris x you #flip zimmerman #flip zimmerman x reader #flip zimmerman x you #clyde logan #clyde logan x reader #clyde logan x you #kylo ren #kylo ren x reader #kylo ren x you #charlie barber #charlie barber x reader #charlie barber x you #commander mills #commander mills x reader #commander mills x you #the last duel #logan lucky #star wars #marriage story #x reader

[jynzandtonic]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#clyde logan #clyde logan fanfiction #clyde logan x reader #clyde logan x you #clyde logan/reader #clyde logan/you #clyde logan smut

[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

[safarigirlsp]

Wicked Fairytales

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

Bah Humbug

Flip Zimmerman x Reader

Kylo Ren x Reader

Charlie Barber x Reader

Clyde Logan x Reader

Henry McHenry x Reader

Jacques Le Gris x Reader

Commander Mills x Reader

Word Count: 35.4k

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

AO3 Link

Based on A Christmas Carol

A Comedy of Eros

Jacques Le Gris x Reader

Word Count: 13.5k

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

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

AO3 Link

Based on A Midsummer Night's Dream

Outrun the Devil

Lawyer Kylo Ren x Reader

Word Count: 14.9k

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

AO3 Link

Based on The Legend of Sleepy Hollow.

Love & War

Regency Kylo Ren x Reader

Word Count: 15.5k

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

AO3 Link

Admiral Ren in Love

Top notes of Pride & Prejudice with undertones of Cinderella.

The Beast

Vampire Kylo Ren x Reader

Word Count: 5.3k

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

AO3 Link

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

Music of the Night

Victorian Kylo Ren x Reader

Word Count: 14.4k

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

AO3 Link

Based on The Phantom of the Opera

Here There Be Monsters

Pirate Captain Jacques Le Gris x Reader

Word Count: 51.4k

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

AO3 Link

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

Maneater

Commander Mills x Lawyer Reader

Word Count: 37.5k

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

AO3 Link

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

Ghost Town

Gunfighter Flip Zimmerman x Reader

Word Count: 14k

AO3 Link

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

Inspired by the Seven Deadly Sins.

Everything A Big Bad Wolf Could Want

Word Count: 5.2k

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

AO3 Link

If I were Little Red Riding Hood...

Cinderella

Kylo Ren x Reader

HCs Only

Word Count: 1k

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

Cinderella Themes.

#my stuff! #my writing #jacques le gris x reader #jacques le gris x you #kylo ren x you #kylo ren x reader #knight #vampire #winter #halloween #Valentine #summer #best #fic #commander mills x you #commander mills x reader #flip zimmerman x reader #flip zimmerman x you #clyde logan x you #clyde logan x reader #henry mchenry x reader #henry mchenry x you #charlie barber x reader #charlie barber x you #regency!kylo #victorian!kylo

[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

[rynwritesstuff]

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

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

Clyde Logan x Reader

Contains: Sleepy cuddling, Clyde being a cutie

Word Count: 390

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

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

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

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

“Not yet.”

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

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

Clyde smiles, then presses his lips against yours. 

“Mhm. Had a real long shift tonight.”

“Will you tell me about it?”

“What’s there to tell?” Clyde asks. 

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

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

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

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

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

“Alright, baby.” 

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

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

#rynwritesstuff #adcu #adcu author #adcu fic #adam driver #adcu fanfiction #clyde logan x y/n #clyde logan x reader #clyde logan x you #clyde logan #clyde logan x yn #logan lucky #logan lucky fanfiction #logan lucky fic

[ladyinwriting18]

Nest (Clyde Logan x You)

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

Words: 2,640

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#clyde logan #clyde logan x reader #clyde logan smut #clyde logan x you #adcu fanfiction #adcu smut #a/b/o kink #alpha!clyde logan #alpha x omega

[multific]

Love You More

Clyde Logan x Reader

Every day he arrived home to the smell of food. Every night he arrived home and you waited for him. 

It was your routine.

You cooked, and waited. Sometimes he found you watching something on TV or reading, but you were always there, smiling when he stepped through the door.

Lately, he had been working a lot. Trying to save up as much as he could for a house. And you just sat there, always waiting for him, like the angel you were.

However, one night he arrived home and you were nowhere to be found, you weren't in the kitchen or on the couch.

Clyde felt his stomach drop as he rushed through the house, trying to find you.

It didn't take him long to find you in bed.

You looked like you barely made it under the covers. One of your hands on the pillow by your head, the other holding your baby bump. 

Clyde's heart immediately melted. He knew you have been having many issues with your pregnancy, you became extremely picky with food, you feel tired all the time and the constant sickness. The other day his perfume made you sick.

Clyde wanted to help, but you assured him this was only temporary. Just like at the beginning of your pregnancy when you craved chocolate all the time, this will pass as well.

He moved the blanket over you, he kissed your forehead before he moved to the kitchen to prepare something to eat. When he checked the time, it was rather early, compared to other times when he arrived home.

10:14 pm

Clyde quickly sat down to finish his meal when he heard the floorboard creak.

"Honey?" your voice called out.

"Yes?" he replied, knowing you got scared someone might have broke in.

And surely enough, he soon watched you walk into the living room, sat down next to him on the couch but not before you gave him a small kiss.

"Sorry, I couldn't cook for you."

"It's okay, the leftovers are fine." he said as he took another bite of the stew you made yesterday.

"I felt very sick today, couldn't even go to the supermarket."

"Oh, you could have called me, I would have stopped on my way home."

"No, I wanted you home quickly." you placed your head on his shoulder, rubbing your stomach.

"I'll have a word with her later, she really shouldn't cause you this much trouble."

"Why are you so sure it's a girl?" you laughed slightly.

"I just have a hunch," he said as he finished his food and looked at you. 

"Well, Mr Hunch, you better quickly shower and join me in bed, I need you to cuddle after all."

Clyde didn't need to be told twice.

He was quick to shower. He left his prosthetic in the bathroom, with you, he didn't need it, and with you he didn't have to hide.

You were already tucked under the warm blanket when he got out of the bathroom and headed for the bed.

It took him a couple steps to get to you, but soon, he was holding you tight. 

And you both fell asleep.

Only, a couple hours later, Clyde woke up to you running out of bed and into the bathroom, he heard you vomit as he checked the time 

1:23 am

He quickly followed you and helped you, rubbing your back as you flushed the toilet. He then watched you brush your teeth before he moved to the kitchen for some water.

You were laying in bed, tired when he joined you again, placing the water on your nightstand.

He laid down next to you but soon moved close to your belly, lifting your shirt, he started to rub your bump.

"Hi Baby, this is your Daddy. You have been causing a lot of trouble for your mommy, I need you to calm down a little so she can sleep." he felt you running your fingers through his hair as he spoke. "We both need mommy to be well-rested, okay?" he then placed a kiss on your skin before moving up and kissing you as well.

"I love you so much Clyde."

"I love you more."

Taglist: imreadinggoaway @fleursirvart​​ @v-2bucky ehsebastiancrunch-time-sports  @pxstelrainbow ablogbypeteparker liamssmilersmexylemony @greenarrowhead feelingsareharddd @thisismysecrethappyplace @sincerelyfan @theoneanna @aestheticsandmarvel @rororo06 @castellandiangelo @avengers-r-us @destynelseclipsa   @spilledinkindumpster celebsimagine @capsiclesdoll snoopy3000 @firstangeldragonranch @puknow @crazzyter  @alwayshave-faith @soleil-dor @alex12948 scream-kiwi79  @lxdyred  @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl​ @liveforkarljacobs @anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek​​ @paola-carter​​

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

#clyde logan x reader #clyde logan imagine #clyde logan imagines #clyde logan #clyde logan x you #clyde logan x pregnant reader #pregnant reader #logan lucky #logan lucky imagine #logan lucky imagines #logan lucky fanfic #logan lucky fanfiction #clyde logan fanfic #clyde logan fanfiction #adam driver character

[hopeamarsu]

congratulations on your milestone!! i would like to request Clyde Logan with “Your eyes are beautiful” fluff or angst or a little in between. Whatever you feel fits the prompt.

Thank you so much! ❤️

I decided to combine angst and fluff and so this ended up as exes to lovers situation where it hurts in the start, but hopefully feels good at the end. I hope you enjoy!

Beautiful eyes

Clyde Logan x gn!reader

Word count 1,4k

Rating Teen

Warnings: Exes to lovers (or breakup to makeup), angst, fluff. Reader has a favorite drink.

Summary: He misses you, but most of all, he misses your beautiful eyes granting him calm. Using the prompt “Your eyes are beautiful”.

Your eyes are beautiful.

He just hates that now whenever he sees you, you hide them from him. Every time your eyes accidentally meet, you lower your gaze or look the other way and it breaks him.

And the worst part is that Clyde now sees you everywhere. In the market, leaving the local library building after your shift when he’s entering the place, every night in his dreams and now here, in his bar where your friends must’ve dragged you to. You haunt him, your beautiful eyes now sad and it’s all his fault.

Well, his and his brothers stupid cauliflower plan. The plan Jimmy promised him would do no harm. But it did the worst kind of harm because that single word, cauliflower, cost him you.

Ever since Clyde got out of Monroe Correctional Facility, he’s been living in a world where you no longer greet him with sleepy kisses when he crawls into your bed after a night shift, a world where he no longer can scent you on his pillow, a world where burnt bacon doesn’t taste the same since you no longer cook it for him. A world where he no longer can gaze into your beautiful eyes and tell you just how much it brings him calm to do so.

He knows now he should’ve let you in on the plan from the start. He trusts you with his life, even now, and he should’ve let you in. But hiding the truth, evading your attempts at visiting him at the prison, actively lying to you when you begged him to speak what was troubling him, those were the little moments that chipped away your trust in him.

Even if all those moments were done because he wanted to protect you from harm, Clyde can’t blame you for wanting space, for wanting to figure out where you stood with him and eventually choosing to part ways. It kills him, makes him wither away like a flower without a sun, but he’ll shoulder that pain because it’s what he deserves.

He’s always wanted what’s best for you and if being with him isn’t the best, then you have made the right call. Even if his heart lies shattered on the floor, crumbled into dust, Clyde wishes you will get everything you want in life. He’s had his moment with the sun, but being a creature not worthy of the rays long term, he will slink back into the shadows. It’s his place and he cannot ask for more than his place.

“Clyde?”

“Hmm?” He turns to his bartender, the one Mellie had hired during his absence and the one he’s kept on board afterwards since the guy is good. Really good. Maybe even better bartender than Clyde. He’s kind, friendly to the patrons and never loses his temper. He’s never late, doesn’t complain about anything and Clyde thinks Mellie struck gold with this one and he’s not about to mess that up.

“The group in the booth,” The man gestures at your table, keeping his voice low. “They wished for the…” He rattles off the name of the bottle, before he continues”…and, ummm, it’s on the list but I can’t find the bottle.” He grins sheepishly before shrugging.

“Before I tell ‘‘em the bad news, I wanted to check with you.”

The name makes Clyde swallow audibly. It’s your drink. The one you had when something went especially well and you wanted to celebrate or to complete hell, so you needed a pick-me-up.

He has one bottle of it and he keeps it in his office just for you. Even after your breakup, Clyde didn’t have the heart to move it in with the rest of the bottles, holding on to a silly reminder of you.

“Yeah,” He gruffs. “Ah ‘ave it. Is in mah office. I’ll serve it fer ‘em.” His colleague nods and disappears back into the comfort of the bar top, smiling at the next patron and Clyde lets out a long breath.

He can do this.

He can pick up the bottle from his office, walk over to you and your friends, check that the bottle is correct and pour the drinks. In and out, two minutes tops. He’ll be polite, bask in your warmth without it being creepy and if he’s lucky, that will sustain him for a good long while. It will be alright, Clyde tells himself as a weak prep talk.

It takes but a few moments to pick up said bottle and make his way across the bar. He’s a ball of nerves but he holds it in, keeping a tight lid on his emotions. There’s four people sitting in the booth with you and all the heads turn in his direction when he stops in front of the rounded table. Clyde picks up the bottle, holding the neck with his metallic hand - his new, improved hand - and places it on the table with a soft click.

“I’m sorry ta keep ya waitin’, it took meh a moment ta ge’ ‘his. How many glasses fer yeh?”

The one he thinks you call Cam winks at him, not so subtly before rising up from the booth. “I need a change in music.” The others follow, citing a need to go to the bathroom or going out for a smoke, whatever. They are clearly doing it to give Clyde a moment alone with you and by the way your beautiful eyes shine with a small flicker of hope, you are not opposed to talking with him.

“Hi.”

“Hi darlin’.” The nickname slips out automatically but before Clyde can retract it, you grip his flesh hand softly. You find his eyes and once more he’s swept into the endless depths he thought he’d never get the privilege to look upon again.

“Can we talk, Clyde?” You ask softly, still holding his hand and he nods just as softly. You gesture for him to sit next to you and he quickly does. He knows he’s no good with words, but for this, for a chance like this, he’ll try his hardest to say what he’s hoped to say for so long.

“Darlin’, I’m so…” Your finger on his lips stops him before he can even formulate his words and Clyde is sure his eyebrows reach his dark hairline. Your finger leaves his lips, the ghost of a touch making him shiver and the smile you grant him makes his ears burn with delight.

“I’m sorry Clyde.”

Wait, what? Clyde is sure his eyebrows have completely disappeared by now in surprise. He doesn’t understand, why are you apologizing to him? You did nothing wrong! Before he can voice his protests, you continue.

“I was mad and upset when you didn’t tell me what happened. And when you refused to see me when I tried visiting the facility, the hurt burrowed a large hole in my chest. Every day it grew larger and larger until I couldn’t take it anymore. That’s why I left.” You sigh, before shaking your head. “But I know you Clyde Logan, I know who you are in your heart. And I judged you before I even let you explain to me, which left us both hurting. I am so sorry I hurt you.”

”No need ta apologize, darlin’. There’s nothing ta forgive. I’m the one tha’ should be sorry. An’ I am darlin’, I’m so sorry I didn’t let ya in. I should’ve and I didn’t. Please, can ya forgive a bartender so in love with ya tha’ he saw no other way of protectin’ ya?”

He breathes the words out quickly, wanting you to understand he holds nothing against you. You are far too good to him and he’s the one who messed up. He messed up so bad. All he wants is to do it right this time.

“Oh Clyde…” You sigh, the abyss of your eyes changing and evolving. He’s transfixed. He’s always been transfixed by your eyes and how they are unable to hide anything you feel. It makes you a lousy poker player, but it’s the one thing he’s always loved about you the most.

“Can I kiss ya, darlin’?” Clyde's voice whispers, barely loud enough for you to hear. He leans a little closer, sharing space with you as the bar falls away “Ah, I’d like ta kiss ya, please.”

Your eyes flutter closed when his lips press on yours, a soft and gentle kiss that is unhurried, solid yet shy. But there is no rush, this kiss is perfect now, Clyde hums, letting his senses be filled with you. Your beautiful eyes might be hidden from him now but at this moment, he’s okay with that. The kiss is a promise that he can get lost in them again and again.

*

(please let me know if you want to be added or removed from the list any time!)

Everything taglist @clydesducktape @miraclesabound @10blurredsmoke10 @caillea @princessxkenobi @sixshooter665 @amneris21 @greeneyedblondie44 @beecastle

ADCU taglist @historyandfandoms50 @sacklerscumrag @daydreamsofren @fizzywoohoo @direnightshade @joyfulfirefury @cornmousequeen @eagerforhoney @leatherboundbirate​ @loganluckylover @mariesackler @a-true-janian-reply @themuseic @strangunddurm

#hopeamarsu milestone celebration #clyde logan #clyde logan x reader #clyde logan x you #clyde logan imagine #logan lucky fanfiction #adam driver character fic #fluff #angst #my writing #Hopeamarsu

[littlelioncub43]

TOTALLY NOT A HORNY THOT, BUT CALLING CLYDE LOGAN "BERRY" AS A NICKNAME AS IN "LOGANBERRY" AND HE DOESN'T REALLY UNDERSTAND IT AT FIRST BUT WHEN YOU EXPLAIN IT HE'S LIKE ".....OK." AND LETS YOU CALL HIM BERRY

I have made him baby girl and I have no regrets except for not thinking this sooner

#clyde logan can get it #clyde logan headcanon #clyde logan x you #clyde logan/you #clyde logan x reader #clyde logan

[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

[daddykylokenobi]

Requests Open - ADCU

Hey everyone I wanted to make a post detailing what kind of requests I am open for and the characters I will write for!

The characters I will write for are -

Kylo Ren/Ben Solo (Star Wars)

Matt the radar technician (Star Wars skit)

Clyde Logan (Logan Lucky)

Paterson (Paterson)

Jude (Hungry Hearts)

Charlie Barber (Marriage Story)

(And more to come as I see more ADCU movies)

All requests are welcome, if I do not want to write it or will not based off of a moral/opinion I will let you know!

Fluff, angst, smut, serious, funny, whatever idea you have throw my way and I’ll do my best to write it for y’all!

#kylo ren #ben solo #kylo ren fanfic #kylo ren x reader #adam driver #clyde logan #clyde logan x you #ben solo fanfic #ben solo x reader #adcu #adcu x reader #logan lucky #adcu fic #clyde logan fanfic #clyde logan x reader #adcu fanfiction #Jude hungry hearts #paterson #paterson x reader #paterson x y/n #Jude x reader #Jude x y/n #matt the radar technician #matt the radar technician x y/n #matt the radar technician x reader #paterson fanfic #jude adcu fanfic

[jynzandtonic]

12 Days of Fluffmas — Day 3: Mistletoe

Clyde Logan x Reader

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#12 days of fluffmas #clyde logan #clyde logan fanfiction #clyde logan x reader #clyde logan x you #clyde logan/reader #clyde logan/you #oops missed a day but here you go!

[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

[mrs-gucci]

By The Fire ~ Clyde Logan x fem!Reader

Hello Mrs Gucci!! :) i was wondering if i could request Clyde Logan snowy day smut! something along the lines of soft love making in winter next to a warm fireplace? Thank u! <3

thanks for this request, I’m happy to be back writing for adam characters again!!

warnings. SMUT (18+), fluff, soft sex, just a sprinkle of very mild dirty talk, p in v, unprotected sex, premature ejaculation (a lil bit), creampie, taking clyde’s *generous* load

word count: 673

You’re so, so glad that you splurged and got the white silky fur lingerie set for your winter weekend getaway with Clyde because it’s totally paying off right now.

As soon as Clyde came downstairs and saw you sprawled out on the rug by the fire in your pretty outfit, he was pouncing, quickly taking his prosthetic off before climbing between your legs. His lips press against yours, hips pressing forward to grind against your warm center.

“Fuck, darlin’, when’d ya get this little getup?” Clyde breathes, wishing nothing more than to be able to touch you right now. “Ya look so beautiful, all laid out in front’a the fire for me...”

You smile, kissing him again. “Got it for you, Clyde, wanted to surprise you.”

The corners of his mouth tug up in a small smile as he reaches down to undo his pants. He’s already so hard for you, length pressing desperately against the crotch of his jeans.

“Is this what ya wanted?” he asks, nudging his cock against your entrance. “Is this what ya wanted when ya put this lingerie on and laid yourself out like this?”

“Yes, baby, please...”

He needs no further invitation, slowly pushing his slick-coated head into your waiting wetness, following that up with the rest of his long, thick length. Your back arches up off the plush carpet and you gasp, insides stretching to take all of him.

“C-Christ Almighty,” he groans shakily, eyes fluttering shut for a moment. “Shit, you’re tight, darlin’.”

“Oh, Clyde...”

You let out a soft moan, looking up at him as he begins to roll his hips, starting relatively slowly. Your hands reach up to caress his face and run through his wavy hair, feeling the way he steadily relaxes with each of your touches.

As much as you love the usual quick and dirty sex, sometimes this slow lovemaking is exactly what you two need. Today is one of those days. The slow and sensual really hits the spot.

Clyde looks down at you, breathing shaky and hips start moving slightly faster when he feels you clench around him. He could cry, this is such a beautiful moment that the two of you are sharing and he often wonders how the hell he managed to have gotten such a beautiful, wonderful lady.

“It feels so good, Clyde,” you say softly, pulling him down for a kiss. “You feel so good.”

His jaw clenches, eyebrows beginning to knit in pleasure as his climax grows nearer and nearer. “Ya feel g-good too, m’ darlin’. I love ya so much, love that I get to have ya in this way.”

You offer him a small smile, kissing him again and again, your orgasm on the horizon. Your hand slips down your abdomen and between your legs, just above where your two bodies are joining. 

Clyde lets out a low moan when you start rubbing your stiff clit, which is causing your insides to grip him even tighter. He’s not sure how much longer he can hold on...

“O-Oh!” he gasps, suddenly reaching his peak without any warning, hips rutting into you as he fills you with his seed. “Oh god, m’ darlin’...”

Seeing and feeling your beloved reach his release brings you to your own only moments later, letting out a soft cry of his name as you ride the wave. You smile up at him, holding his face in your hands while both of you catch your breaths.

“I love you so much,” you whisper, thumb sliding over his cheekbone. “So, so freakin’ much.”

Clyde’s smile widens with your words. “I love ya more.”

When your head rolls to the side, you gasp quietly.

“Baby, look!” You point to the window, where big white flakes have begun to fall. “Looks like we’ll have a snowy weekend after all.”

He hums, looking out the window along with you. “Must’ve been some pretty magical sex we just had, hm?”

You laugh, giving him a nudge with your knee before kissing him again.

“Weirdo.”

let me know if you’d like me to start tagging my taglist peeps again!

#mrs-gucci #logan lucky #clyde logan #clyde logan x you #clyde logan x reader #clyde logan fic #clyde logan imagine #clyde logan smut #clyde logan fluff #adcu #adcu fic #adam driver fanfiction #clyde logan blurb

[weareallstoriesintheend]

okay so hear me out. what if reader finds clyde jacking off and he’s really embarrassed because it’s clyde ya know but reader encourages him and talks him through it and watches him and tells him how handsome he is? i would simply DIE

Oh I 100% hear you my dear anon!! Please enjoy, but don't die on my (or Clydes) account 😉

Note: Just a reminder that I also do fully customised one-shots over on my Etsy if you want something personalised and completely designed by you. Please click here to find out more

I've Got You (Clyde Logan x Reader)

Warnings: Jacking off obv.

“What are you doing?” you asked, biting back a cheeky smile.

You had gotten home, wondering why there was so little activity going on in the house. Not even the TV was on, Clyde had been there when you’d left two hours ago. You toed off your shoes, eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

Prioritising needing to get out of your hot, sweaty clothes you made your way towards the bedroom. You didn’t even get half way along the corridor before you heard it, or more specifically before you heard him.

You knew that huffed moan, even down to the pitch of it. Clyde was touching himself; your mind ran with all the images that would greet you when you got to the door. Tingles ran up your spine at the possibilities.

You tip-toed the rest of the way, thankful that you’d kicked your shoes off at the door. As you reached the bedroom, the door was just enough ajar that you could see all the way in. There you saw him, the picture of him enough to make your knees buckle.

Clyde’s large frame was laid out on the bed, torso propped against the pillows and cotton shorts pulled down to his ankles with his underwear. His thick cock was gripped tightly in his flesh hand, it was blushed red and you’d put money on the fact that that pretty vein on the underside was pulsing.

You gave it a couple of seconds, allowing yourself the indulgence of watching how his hand stroked up and down. Sometimes he would slow, every couple of strokes, to achingly slowly squeeze his hand over the tip. The tone of his moans would change, he’d grit his teeth and toss his head back.

“What are you doing?” you asked, biting back a cheeky smile.

You’d never seen Clyde move so fast, he bolted upright and grabbed a pillow to cover himself. That was until he saw you push your way through the slightly open door, that was when his face turned almost purple with embarrassment.

“I- urr nothin’” he replied sheepishly.

You raised an eyebrow in disbelief, “You know I can see you right?”

Clyde hung his head, he actually looked like he was trembling as he shuffled uncomfortably, “I- I was touchin’ maself. Ain’t nothin’ wrong with it”

“Oh definitely not” you replied, tone dropping into deep seduction. His sad eyes sprang up to your face, squinting curiously at you. You padded to the end of the bed as he kept his eyes on you. Slowly you began to remove your clothes down to your underwear, breathing a sigh of relief as the cooler air in the room soothed your heated skin.

You walked round to the side of the bed, leaning over and cupping his cheek. His eyes were getting wider the closer you got, you leaned in and kissed his lips softly. The gentle sigh he let out went straight to your cunt, so you did it again eager to get the same response.

“I didn’t tell you to stop now did I?” you asked. Clyde shook his head rapidly, eyes going from your face down to his cock that had made its way back into his hand. You smirked at him and pecked his lips.

“Ya wanna w-watch?” he stuttered, you simply nodded and grinned when the hand around his cock tightened. You took his silence as an opportunity to position yourself.

Tugging on his arm you got him to sit up, as you manoeuvred to the pillows, he understood what you were doing and slid forward. This allowed enough room for you to wrap yourself around him from the back.

Now Clyde was a big guy, if you sat fully behind him you wouldn’t have been able to see anything. So, you sat to the side, thighs hooking around him. One around his back and the other under his leg.

His eyes watched you intently from the side, darting between his cock and you once more. You smiled, kissing softly at his shoulder through his t-shirt, “Go on” you whispered.

His hand slowly started to stroke once more, you marvelled at the way droplets of pre-cum oozed out the tip every time he squeezed. Your hand drifted down to cup over his, to help guide him. Yours looked so tiny rested over his large paws; Clyde clearly noticed this too as he groaned deeply.

His hips bucked, hand picking up speed so you let go of his hand and began to stroke every area of his body you could reach; across his chest, down his arms or thighs. Just letting him feel you all over.

“How close were you?” you whispered, nibbling at his earlobe. Clyde stuttered in his moan, choking a little on the air he gasped in.

“P-pretty close” he murmured, tipping his head back. He looked so beautiful like this.

You chuckled softly, “You think you’re going to cum for me?”

“Oh fuck yeh” he groaned, hand getting even faster. The wet shucking noise making you squirm behind him, almost rutting yourself against his back.

You pulled yourself up using his broad shoulders, leaning up so as to shuffle onto your knees as much as you could. You were awkwardly propped with one leg on the pillows but you used this as an opportunity to lean your full weight against him, letting him feel you press against his back. You leant to speak directly into his ear, your tone low and soft, “That’s it baby” you encouraged, “You look so good, so fucking handsome for me. Keep going”

Clyde moaned, high-pitched, so close to a whimper. His head dropped back, resting against your shoulder. You brushed his hair from his sweat-beaded forehead.

“Come on baby, get yourself there. Let me see you paint that gorgeous body in cum” you urged, watching in delight with the way the muscles in his thighs clenched and his toes curled. Your hands soothed over the bare skin of his arms, kissing at his neck as he rutted into his own hand.

Before you could say another word he exploded, a loud grunted shout followed by white ropes of cum painting the skin of his thighs and dampening the material of his t-shirt.

With a slump he sunk back into you, happy satisfied sigh emanating from pouted lips. You showered him with kisses wherever you could reach, “So good for me” you hummed.

He smiled, a small sweet fucked out smile – just for you. You gathered his large body into your arms, stretching yourself over the ridiculous width of his shoulders, “Just rest handsome. I’ve got you”

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