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paterson-blue · 3 years

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Honey You're Familiar (Like My Mirror Years Ago); Part 1

(Gif credit: @driverdelight )

Part 1: The Beginning

Part 1 I Part 2 I Part 3 I Part 4 I Part 5

Summary: It’s gotta be bad luck to meet the love of yer life at a funeral, right? Clyde’s just askin' for a friend.

Word Count: 3,625

Warnings: fluff, awkward plot set-up, butchering of the southern accent, brief mention of cancer & distant side character death (happens off screen), siblings that won't leave well enough alone, original female character— let me know if I need to add anything else!

A/N: This story contains an original female character. I try to make my OC's fairly neutral in description so everyone can enjoy them; I always accept pointers on how to do this better. This is my first attempt at writing in two years, after some of that good ole' depression-induced writer's block. So if you're here simply to make fun of my sorry writing, I completely understand. Have fun!

Prefer AO3? I gotcha!

Clyde hates funerals. He really, really hates them. He’s attended far too many in his relatively short time on earth, most for buddies that were far too young to die. Hell, his family had a funeral all planned out for him before he somehow pulled through in the hospital; right as rain—all but one hand.

But he knows he can’t miss this one, so he forces himself to get dressed as nice as he can: an old pair of black slacks that were a little too short, a black dress shirt, and a grey tie of Jimmy’s. His dress shoes were old and scuffed but he figures no one will be looking at his feet. He just wants to get in, show his respects, and get out.

Mr. Stephens had been his high school English teacher two years in a row. He’s the one that got Clyde into reading, who always told Clyde he didn’t need to be an athlete to be great. Mr. Stephens made Clyde proud of himself—had taught Clyde lessons he still carried with him to this day.

He hadn’t even been 65 when the cancer took him. Clyde didn’t think it was fair, but it never is.

Jimmy drives him to the little Baptist church across town and Clyde is pleased to see the parking lot full. Mr. Stephens had been a good man; he deserved the turn-out. There are a couple people milling out front, finishing their last cigarettes before the service starts; Clyde recognizes a couple of them from his high school class.

He takes the front steps two at a time, hunching his shoulders over as he enters the building in an attempt to look smaller. The rows of pews are mostly full, especially nearer to the front. Clyde takes a hasty seat in the back, beside little old Mrs. Hastings, who gives him a warm smile. Clyde can only hope she doesn’t rope him into one of her two-hour-long conversations after the service.

The buzz in the room dies down around ten, the stragglers finding a seat or leaning against the back wall, and the preacher appears out of nowhere. Clyde listens to the man’s booming voice—so out of place at such a somber event—talk about what a good man Mr. Stephens was, and how no one should mourn since he was now in Heaven with his wife. Clyde wasn’t exactly the religious type, but he figures it’s a nice sentiment.

The preacher says the next of kin will now speak, and Clyde’s brows furrow in confusion. He can’t remember any sort of family; the Stephens hadn’t had any kids as far as he knew. Though Clyde guesses he hadn’t exactly been the most in-tune with the family’s business over the years—really just what he’d seen in passing.

A young woman stands and makes her way to the front, only increasing Clyde’s curiosity. She was far too young to be a daughter. A granddaughter, perhaps? She seemed too old for that. Clyde chews on the inside of his cheek, listening to the woman speak. He doesn’t like hearing her voice shake with sorrow; it makes his stomach knot up.

She doesn’t speak for very long. Mostly thanks people for coming, saying her Uncle—oh, she’s a niece, then—would be so happy to see how much he was loved. Clyde’s eyes prickle a little at that. It was all anybody wanted, right? To be loved. He clears his throat as quiet as he can, ducking his head until the water dissipates from his eyes. There’s a prayer, and a hymn, and then the service is over with.

_____________________________

“Clyde! Clyde Logan!”

Clyde pauses at the bottom of the steps, turning around at the unfamiliar voice calling his name. He’s surprised to see the niece—Juniper—speed-walking towards him, her kitten heels clicking on the floor. For a moment he wonders what he’s done, what sort of funeral faux-pas he’s committed, but then she smiles at him. It makes his heart flutter in his chest, an unexpected feeling. She comes to a stop in front of him, still on the last step, not quite in the parking lot.

“Yes ma’am?”

He says politely, curious eyes roaming over her. Juniper is still smiling, looking up at him.

“I’m glad I caught you. I’ve got something for ya.”

She holds out her hand, and it takes Clyde a moment to realize she’s handing him a fifty-dollar bill. He blinks, his brain trying to compute what it meant.

“... Ma’am, I don’t…”

She huffs out a laugh, though Clyde can tell it’s not directed at him, so he doesn’t feel self-conscious about not understanding. Juniper ducks her head as she rubs absently at her collarbone, looking sheepish.

“I figured you wouldn’t remember me. We uh…”

She trails off, mouth doing a funny thing. Clyde suddenly panics, wracking his brain. They what? Did they sleep together? But he would remember, of course he would remember. And she was so young, if they’d been together years ago it would be… no, that couldn’t be it. Juniper isn’t privy to Clyde’s mental gymnastics; he has to focus all his attention on listening to her when she speaks again.

“When I was fifteen, I took my uncle’s car out for a joyride. I figured I wouldn’t get caught, because—well, I was fifteen, and stupid. Drove it fast on a dirt road and a rock flew up and cracked the windshield. I took it to the auto shop, hysterical, knowing my life would be damn near over if my uncle saw the damage.”

Clyde’s heart rate gradually slows; her story was starting to sound vaguely familiar.

“—You were working that afternoon. I gave you all the money I had, my allowance, babysitting money, everything, and still came up fifty dollars short. You paid it. You didn’t have to, you didn’t know me, and I sure deserved getting in trouble for stealing the car. But you saved my ass.”

Juniper lets out a laugh, shaking her head. It makes Clyde’s chest feel all warm. He remembers now, her words bringing forth a fuzzy picture in his head.

He’d been a 24-year-old community college drop-out—more from lack’a tryin’ than lack’a smarts, he now knew—working his last month before basic training. She’d been a gal who was way too young to have a nose piercing, had eyeliner streaming all down her cheeks when she’d come into the shop. He’d felt bad for her, wanted to help. He’d sideswiped his daddy’s truck when he was fourteen and got his hide tore up for it. Fifty bucks was nothin’, really, ‘specially when he was about to leave town. He hadn’t thought he would make such an impression.

“—I always meant to pay you back but then you left for basic, and eventually I left for college, and I just never saw you again. So here— “

She holds the bill out to him again. He looks from her, to it, to her again; can feel a smile tugging at his lips.

“Yer… paying me back from eleven years ago?”

“Well, better late than never.”

Clyde doesn’t know what comes over him. He bursts into laughter, his whole face crinkling up. It’s a loud belly laugh, just the abrupt absurdity of the situation getting to him. Juniper starts laughing with him, her hand landing over her mouth to try to muffle herself. It makes Clyde laugh even more and there they were, strangers yet not, dying laughing out in front of a funeral.

The doors of the church swing open, and Mrs. Hastings emerges with two other women, having taken them hostage with her conversation. The group eyes the laughing pair, and it makes Clyde quiet, placing one big paw over his own mouth in an attempt to be more polite. Juniper giggles, but starts clearing her throat, trying to hush herself. They finally get themselves under control, but don’t dare speak for fear of setting off another fit; all they can do is look mischievously at one another, eyes sparkling. Clyde can’t remember the last time he laughed like this with someone who wasn’t Jimmy or Mellie.

Eventually, Juniper breaks the silence, apparently finding more faith in herself than Clyde had in his own ability not to lose it again.

“I mean it. Take it.”

She gestures with the banknote. It’s crisp, despite having been held in her palm. Clyde slowly drops his hand; shakes his head.

“I can’t take yer money.”

“You can and you will, Clyde Logan.”

Juniper gives him a look, and he finds himself taking the bill from her fingers. His hand dwarfs hers; he has the odd thought that if he held it, it would break. She looks pleased; gives him a victorious grin.

“Good. My uncle would probably haunt me if I never paid you back.”

Clyde barks out another gleeful laugh, surprised at her comment. She starts to speak again, but then the church door is opening, the preacher sticking his head out. He asks for her, and Juniper gives Clyde one last look.

“Save it for a rainy day.”

She points at the bill, now crumpled up in his palm, then she’s up the steps and into the church before Clyde can even think of a response.

_____________________________

“Now, tell me why I thought this was a diner.”

Clyde turns from his place at Duck Tape’s front door—keys in hand to start settin’ up for opening hours—to look towards the voice behind him. There was Juniper, leaning against a shiny corolla and giving him a megawatt smile. Clyde can’t help but smile back, surprised but happy to see her. It’s been almost a week since the funeral, he was sure she’d be gone by now.

“Sorry to disappoint, ma’am.”

Juniper scoffs, shaking her head.

“You better stop calling me “ma’am.” And I don’t think you could ever disappoint me, Clyde Logan.”

He can feel his cheeks pinkening up at her words, though he isn’t exactly sure why. So, he nods, and hopes she can’t see his blush from so far away.

“Alright. Juniper, then.”

She nods at him; he nods back.

“This used to be the Campbell’s diner. They got bored with it and turned it into a bar, and then they realized they just hated runnin’ a business.”

He chuckles, shaking his head.

“—I was their best worker. They trained me as a manager and then one day just up and gave me the place. Said they wanted it to go to someone who loved it.”

Clyde still remembers the swirl of emotions he’d felt that day—the disbelief mixed with gratitude mixed with hope like no other. He’d floundered for a while after coming back, with his hand and PTSD and no sense of direction. The bar gave him that, and suddenly it was his. Mr. Campbell had gruffly told Clyde that the place was a curse; that it “sucked out your soul and your money.” Clyde thinks it’s the one thing his family curse hasn’t touched.

“... You can come in, if y’like. We ain’t open yet but I don’t mind. I’ll fix ya up a drink and a sandwich.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t want to intrude.”

“Ya can and ya will.”

He grins at her, echoing her past words, and she laughs.

“Alright, twist my arm why dontcha.”

She moves to grab her purse from her car, and Clyde gets a view of the curve of her ass in her denim shorts. He turns back to the door quickly, fumbling to unlock it. Dammit, why couldn’t he behave himself? She was sweet, and charming, and beautiful, and—and she didn’t deserve being gawked at by him.

You’re not that type’a guy, Clyde, he chastises himself in his head.

He holds the door open for her and she thanks him as she walks in, looking around curiously. Clyde is suddenly nervous, though he’s unsure why. He was proud of Duck Tape, of what he’d done to it and how he ran it. Maybe it was a little old fashioned, but he never had complaints. So why, now, was he anxious to see what she—a relative stranger—thought?

“You c’n, uh—sit at the bar, I’ll be right back. Just gonna get some stuff.”

Juniper nods; she’s still looking around when he escapes into the back. The kitchen was small, barely used; Duck Tape didn’t exactly have food, per se. Sometimes Pete, one of the barbacks, would make a special batch of little appetizers for people, but mostly it was pretzels and peanuts. Clyde’s considered adding a permanent food menu, but he’s still got some calculatin’ to do on if he can afford it. Some months the bar was scraping by as it was, even with his regular VA disability checks, and it’s not like the regulars came to eat.

Still, the pantry was regularly stocked with sandwich fixings for the staff, and that’s what Clyde collects—bread, turkey, lettuce, tomato, pickle. He’s just coming out of the kitchen when music starts up, Patsy Cline’s crooning filling the empty bar. Juniper looks at him from where she was standing in front of the jukebox, a sheepish smile on her face.

“Sorry, I didn’t think about how loud it would be with no people in here.”

Clyde chuckles, shakes his head.

“S’alright. There’s a little knob on the side for the volume.”

Juniper turns it down before coming to join him at the bar top. She sits on a stool across from him, watching him start making them both a sandwich. It’s quiet as he works, but it’s not uncomfortable. Clyde finds that he enjoys her presence; likes her there in his space. It’s odd—usually he values his time alone opening up the bar. He likes the routine of setting up, making sure everything is stocked and clean; likes the silence and the peace it brings him. Yet he’d invited her into his sanctuary, and somehow, she fit.

“I thought y’would’ve gone back home by now. Heard you were out West.”

Clyde speaks up as he serves her the sandwich he’s made, grabbing them each a cold glass of water. He tries to busy himself; tries to act like he’s not wholly invested in her sticking around. Heard you were out West, he’d said. Heard. Like it was happenstance, like someone said it to him in passing; like he hadn’t been in the salon just two days ago, purposely eavesdroppin’ on the Purple Lady’s gossip. Juniper hums around a mouthful of food, breaking him out of his guilty thoughts.

“Yeah, up in Portland. I thought I’d be back by now too, t’be honest. Not that I don’t like being here! It’s just not what I had planned. But Uncle Roy left me the bed & breakfast, and I need to get things sorted to make sure it’s taken care of. I don’t want to leave it for just anyone to run.”

Clyde nods, leaning against the counter as he eats. After Mr. Stephens left teaching, he and his wife had turned their large home into a two-room bed & breakfast. It was surprisingly popular with both locals and travelers who wanted a “small town stay” while passing through. He hadn’t thought about what would happen to the place now that the Stephens’ were gone. Juniper sips at her water before speaking again.

“I’ve been able to convince my job to let me work remotely for now, but that won’t last forever.”

She sighs, scrunching up her face; Clyde thinks it’s cute.

“Whaddaya do for work, if ya don’t mind me askin’?”

Juniper huffs, a rueful smile on her lips. She has another bite of sandwich, taking her time to answer.

“I’m an in-house attorney for an energy corporation out there.”

“Yer a lawyer?”

Clyde’s brows arch plumb to the ceiling as he stares at her. He spares a thought to the bundles of heist money he had stowed away in a safe in the back of his closet, right next to his daddy’s old pistol. Lawyer’s not the same as a cop, he tells himself. Juniper’s oblivious to his plight; she takes his surprise in another way.

“What? Don’t I look like one?”

She grins, gesturing to her lacy shirt and jean cut-offs. Clyde almost apologizes, but her laugh is open and carefree; he hadn’t insulted her. She continues speaking, shifting on the barstool.

“It’s not what I wanted to do with my degree. I wanna work for a non-profit, maybe a defense fund. I have a specialization in human rights law, but— “

She sighs, a little frown appearing on her face. Clyde has the sudden urge to reach out, to use his thumb to massage the furrow between her brows until she’s smiling again.

“—but it doesn’t pay the bills. Especially not Portland bills. And I was lucky to get the corporate internship as it was, so when it turned into a job, I just thought hey, I’ll gain some experience, save some money, and then find where I really want to work once I’ve earned my keep. But I dunno, recently things just feel so…”

She trails off, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth. It’s obvious she has more to say, so Clyde waits patiently as he eats. It was somethin’ he was good at: waiting patiently.

“I mean I don’t want to complain. It’s a good job, and someone has to do it. I’m—I mean, I do good work. It’s just not what I want to do.”

She stops suddenly, letting out a soft laugh before looking up at him, a sheepish look on her face.

“Sorry. Here we are, basically strangers, and I’m unloading all my problems onto you.”

If it were anyone else Clyde would brush it off in the most casual way possible. Say oh, I’m’a bartender, it comes with the territory. Make it easier for both of them to distance themselves. But he doesn’t. Instead, he says:

“I don’t mind. I’m always here to listen.”

When Juniper looks at him, he swears she’s looking straight into his soul, like she knows his every thought, every feeling, every shudderin’ beat of his heart. There’s a pause, and then she gives him a smile.

“I guess I’m making a bit of a habit of unloading my problems onto you, huh? First the windshield, now this.”

And just like that, the spell is broken. But instead of it being jarring, it’s a smooth, seamless transition. That moment was over, but there was a reassurance in the air: there would be many more moments to come.

_____________________________

Days turn into a week; one week turns into three, and then four. Juniper sticks around, still trying to work things out with the bed & breakfast. That afternoon at the bar turns into a habit, and Clyde finds himself offerin’ to be the one to open the bar on days he doesn’t even work. He wants to spend as much time with her as he can, and these not-a-date lunch-dates were the perfect excuse.

They were friends; Clyde felt confident enough to say that. It was probably the quickest friend he’d ever made, and he knew that was likely all thanks to her. It’s not that she was extremely outgoing or anything; they just seemed to click in a way he rarely did with anyone. Some days when they had lunch together it was silent, him cleaning and her working on her computer. Quiet but comfortable, together. They didn’t have to speak, didn’t have to anxiously fill the space between them with words. They could just be.

Jimmy barges in one day, having driven up early from Lynchburg and apparently decidin’ not to tell Clyde of his plans. The older Logan breaks the peaceful silence of the bar, shoving the door open and bitching ‘bout traffic. Juniper jumps just about a foot off the barstool she was perched on, and even normally-stoic Clyde startles. The pair look wide-eyed at the intruder, and then Clyde is clearing his throat, moving away from where he’d been leaning into Juniper’s space over the bar top.

A slow grin spreads across Jimmy’s face, lookin’ like the cat that caught the canary, and Clyde knows he’s in big trouble.

Mellie just so happens to come into the bar the next day, askin’ Clyde if he’s seen her purple sparkly clippers when they both know he hasn’t. He tries to tell her with his eyes to get the hell out, but he knows it’s a lost cause—growin’ up with Mellie, she never got out of your room if she knew it was buggin’ ya.

As soon as she finally—finally—leaves (only after she goes out of her way to introduce herself to Juniper, telling her to come by the salon anytime she needs anything), Clyde gets a little ping on his phone.

Then another.

And another.

And another until he’s huffing, scrollin’ through and punching the mute chat button with one of his giant fingers.

Juniper twirls back and forth on her barstool, her pretty summer dress dancing around her legs. She’s watching him with an amused little smile.

“Your siblings are nice.”

She says eventually; she says knowingly. It makes him flush pink; makes him curse the little messages he knows are building up on his phone.

Ask her out.

#clyde logan #clyde logan fic #clyde logan x ofc #logan lucky #clyde logan fluff #adcu #feedback always welcome & appreciated!#tori writes #clyde logan x original female character #clyde logan x oc

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desiraypark · 4 years

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A. Driver Master List

(Works by desiraypark)

*As of October 2020, I do not write for Flip Z. anymore.

LONG SERIES (10+ Chapters)

Kylo Ren/Ben Solo

The Skywalker-Rens Saga (aka Much Needed Assistance saga) (ft. Female Reader) (DISCONTINUED)

When the Sun Sleeps in Canto Bight (ft. OC - Blk/F)

Love in Writing (Finn x OC - Blk/F - Ben Solo is supporting) (DISCONTINUED) Drawing the Line (ft. OC - Blk/F) Phillip Altman Make It More Awkward (ft. OC - Blk/F) (DISCONTINUED)

MINI-SERIES (>10 Chapters)

Adam Sackler

An Old Friend (ft. OC - Blk/F) Red Light (ft. Female Reader)

Charlie Barber

Christmas in LA (ft. OC - Blk/F) What’s in This Drink? - ONLY ON AO3 (ft. OC - Blk/F) (please read tags) To Feel Something (ft. Black Female Reader) Part I | Part II

Flip Zimmerman

Flip x Mae (ft. OC - Blk/F)

One - “Saturday Night Special” Two - “Earth Angel” Three - Untitled Request (Set after part four) Four - “Unlikely” Five - “Vulnerable” Six - “Snowflakes”

Toby Grummett/Grisoni

The Toby Tamer (ft. OC - Blk/F) Part I | Part II MULTIPLE Kylo Ren x Paul Sevier “Be Our Guest” Part I | Part II

ONGOING SERIES

Clyde x Sherri - a non-linear series featuring Clyde Logan and his wife, Sherri (Simmons) Logan, an original character.

Life with Paterson - a very self-indulgent series lol. Only on AO3. The OC is basically me lol

ONE-SHOTS (includes prompt requests)

Adam Sackler

Hungover Sackler (Request ft. Female Reader) Enamored Sackler (Anon Request ft. Female Reader) Bored Sackler #1 (Anon Request ft. Reader) Bored Sackler #2 (Request ft Female Reader) Round One - Only on AO3

Charlie Barber Charlie Barber Dry Humping Request (ft. Female Reader) To Feel Something (ft. Black Female Reader) Clyde Logan Copy, Paste, and Scream (ft. Female Reader) He’s a Winner, Baby. (ft. Female Reader) “The Full Moon, I Say” (ft. Black Female Reader) Photos (ft. Black Female Reader) The Dress (ft. Female Reader) Love Me Tender (ft. Female Reader) Clyde & His Drunk GF (Request ft. Black Female Reader) Phone Call (Request) Virtuous - ONLY ON AO3 (ft. Female Reader) Flip Zimmerman Wobble (ft. Black Female Reader) Kylo Ren (or Ben Solo) Dangerous Kisses (ft. Female Reader) Head Chef/Meat Chef (ft. Female Reader) (Chef Kylo/Ben)(AU) Sorry - (ft. Female Reader) Possessive Kylo (Request ft. Female Reader) - (Druglord Kylo)(AU) “Show me your nipples” (Request ft. Black, Plus-Sized Female Reader) Our House - ONLY ON AO3 (ft. Plus-Sized Female Reader) Paterson Paterson Morning Sex request (ft. Female Reader) “I’ve been thinking...” (ft. Black Female Reader) Phillip Altman Phillip Altman Car Sex Request (ft. Female Reader)

Ronnie Peterson “Thief!” (ft. Black Female Reader)

#desiraypark #adamdrivermasterlist

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maudelebowski29 · 6 years

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My Top 10 Movies Of 2017

So this was hard because I saw a lot of good shit this year and I thought 2017 was a way better year for films than 2016. Here’s my list:

1. Baby Driver Is Edgar Wright capable of making a terrible movie? The answer so far has been a resounding no. The man who gave us The Cornetto Trilogy and Scott Pilgrim vs. The World continues his unstoppable streak as one of the best film makers of the 21st century and gives us a fantastic hybrid of heist movie and jukebox musical. Baby Driver is an excellent example of great character study, technical prowess, and scene geography. I adored every second of it. It also has the best soundtrack of the year. Oh, and a film that finally knows how to use Jon Hamm correctly!

2. Guardians Of The Galaxy Vol. 2 Are Wonder Woman, Logan, and Thor: Ragnarok technically better movies than this? Probably. But I don’t care. GOTG Vol. 2 is still my favorite comic book movie of 2017 and holds the most emotional resonance for me. It deals with themes of losing a parent, toxic fatherhood, and making a family of people who aren’t blood-related to you and it had many moments where I wept in a movie theater openly. It’s a tearjerking heartbreaker that still manages to deliver the laughs and satisfying space battles. I can’t wait to see what James Gunn has in store for us in Guardians 3.

3. Blade Runner 2049 Easily the best science fiction movie of 2017. Absolutely gorgeous to look at, fantastic performances all around (including one of the best roles Harrison Ford has had in many years) and manages to ask a lot of poignant questions about what it means to be human. There are things about it I like even more than the original and that’s saying a lot. Unfortunately this didn’t do well at the box office, but I hope more people do see it. Denis Villeneuve is one of the most gifted directors working today.

4. Thor: Ragnarok The best movie in the Thor trilogy, the most fun I had at a movie all year, and it has some subtle anti-colonialism messaging to boot. Marvel lets Taika Waititi loose on their product and he gave us a cosmic party adventure that wouldn’t look out of place in the Flash Gordon universe. It’s drenched in 80′s - the colors, the costume design, and Mark Mothersbaugh’s synthy score, but it doesn’t feel cynical like the upcoming Ready Player One. Also, hearing the term “devil’s anus” in a superhero movie will never not be funny to me.

5. I, Tonya Darkly funny, well acted, and an almost feminist call-to-arms to reevaluate Tonya Harding in the pop-culture landscape. This is a star-making turn for Margot Robbie and I hope she wins all the awards she can for it. We also see strong acting from Sebastian Stan, Allison Janney, Paul Walter Hauser, and Bobby Canavale. The cast is stellar. I only saw this a couple days ago as of typing this out and I can’t stop thinking about it.

6. Star Wars: The Last Jedi My favorite Star Wars movie since The Empire Strikes Back. I loved The Force Awakens but you can’t deny it played it quite safe. This, on the other hand, does not. I love the weird, bold choices it makes in terms of storytelling and the Star Wars mythos, the characters, and the stunning visuals. Mark Hamill has never been better as Luke Skywalker and Rey, Kylo, Poe, and Finn continue to be fascinating. I also really loved Kelly Marie Tran as Rose Tico, a fangirl who loves Finn but doesn’t shy away from pointing out his faults. Plus a lot of MRA and Reddit choads hated this movie which gives it a ringing endorsement, as far as I’m concerned.

7. Logan Lucky Holy shit. A movie about working-class people that doesn’t condescend to them. Steven Soderbergh’s return to the director’s chair sees him going back to the well for a heist movie but I liked this way better than any of his Ocean’s films. Adam Driver’s quiet dignity as Clyde and Channing Tatum’s likable Jimmy make for a great duo. Though Daniel Craig steals the show as Joe Bang. He’s terrific. There’s a scene in this movie where a little girl sings “Country Roads” by John Denver at a beauty pageant and could have been corny as hell and laughable. But it’s not. It’s a show-stopper and an emotionally effective moment.

8. Get Out The best horror movie of the year. No contest. Smart and genuinely scary. It has a lot of intelligent and relevant commentary about race in America but never comes across as preachy and heavy-handed. The fact that this is Jordan Peele’s first time as a director is astonishing. Oh, and I will never look at a spoon tapping against a teacup the same way ever again. *shudders*

9. Logan So if you’re Fox what do you do with the X-Men franchise after the disappointment of Apocalypse? Why, you do a Wolverine solo movie, make it R-Rated, and turn the universe into a dystopian western. Nice. Logan isn’t for everyone - it’s violent and bloody as hell and there are no happy endings. But I fucking loved it. It’s certainly the best X-Men film since First Class. Dafne Keen is a revelation as Laura Kinney (X-23) and one of my favorite female characters in recent memory. When her claws came out the first time I literally squeed in the theater. Please give her her own movie as soon as possible. Logan is a fitting send-off to Hugh Jackman’s signature role.

10. War For The Planet Of The Apes The third entry in the second best trilogy of the 2010′s (the first being Captain America) is a different breed of summer blockbuster and one I hope to see more of. It’s thoughtful, ambitious, and emotionally devastating. The themes of slavery and genocide and the allusions to militias and the white power movement are pretty clear and it definitely puts you on the side of the apes. Andy Serkis is still amazing as Caesar and the motion capture used to create him is astoundingly realistic, Woody Harrelson is genuinely frightening as the main villain, and Amiah Miller as the mute Nova is one of the best child performances of the year. Oh, and that last shot is killer. I’m hoping they make more of these films, but if they don’t this is one hell of a finale.

Some honorable mentions: Spider-Man: Homecoming Huge thank you to Marvel Studios for saving our favorite webslinger from the awful Amazing Spider-Man franchise, two movies that turned Peter Parker into Edward Cullen from Twilight (ugh).

Wonder Woman After the cinematic wrongness of Man Of Steel, Batman v. Superman, and Suicide Squad (three of the worst big-budget movies of the decade that are not Transformers films), I had really low expectations for this one and was pleasantly surprised by how good this is. Three words: No Man’s Land.

IT Another film that surprised the hell out of me. A horror movie released in the beginning of September has no fucking right to be this good. But it is!

Dunkirk Christopher Nolan at the peak of his powers. This almost made my top 10 list for its technical acumen alone but it didn’t quite make the cut.

Atomic Blonde Probably the best pure action movie of the year. Is the plot convoluted as all hell? Sure. But it has Charlize Theron kicking major ass in well-choreographed fight scenes and making out with Sofia Boutella. What’s not to love?

#michelle makes lists #best movies of 2017

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ao3feed-doctorwho · 5 years

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Avengers Annihilation

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2YoPA4d

by KittyontheEdge04

Everything our heroes have been fighting for has all come down to this final test. Will they succeed even with a long period of time they have to deal with?

Words: 2302, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English

Series: Part 24 of The Coexistenceverse Series One

Fandoms: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Doctor Who (2005), Doctor Who, Doctor Who (1963), X-Men - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Voltron: Legendary Defender, Spider-Man and His Amazing Friends (TV), Torchwood, Sarah Jane Adventures

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: Major Character Death

Categories: F/M, Gen

Characters: Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Thor (Marvel), Carol Danvers, Natasha Romanov (Marvel), Clint Barton, Bruce Banner, James "Rhodey" Rhodes, Okoye (Marvel), Tenth Doctor, Rose Tyler, Rose Tyler | Bad Wolf, Martha Jones, Nyssa of Traken, Tegan Jovanka, Gwen Cooper, Lance (Voltron), Pidge | Katie Holt, Owen Harper, Toshiko Sato, Mary Jane Watson, Firestar, Sarah Jane Smith, Original Female Character(s), Luke Smith, Rani Chandra, Ace McShane, Rocket Raccoon, Nebula (Marvel), Jessica Jones, Luke Cage, Danny Rand, Matt Murdock, Matt Holt, Samuel Holt, Nick Fury, Maria Hill, Scott Lang, Hope Van Dyne, Hank Pym, Janet Van Dyne, Wanda Maximoff, James "Bucky" Barnes, T'Challa (Marvel), Groot (Marvel), Sam Wilson (Marvel), Shuri (Marvel), Bobby Drake, Charles Xavier, Jean Grey, Scott Summers, Hank McCoy, Kurt Wagner, Raven | Mystique, Erik Lehnsherr, Jubilation Lee, Kitty Pryde, Rogue (X-Men), Emma Frost, Ororo Munroe, Logan (X-Men), Thanos (Marvel), Maria Jackson, Clyde Langer, K9 (Doctor Who), Francine Jones, Clive Jones, Tish Jones, Leo Jones, Rhys Williams (Torchwood), Ianto Jones, Jack Harkness, Jackie Tyler, Pete Tyler, Pete Tyler (Pete's World), Laura Barton, Cooper Barton, Lila Barton, Nathaniel Pietro Barton, Keith (Voltron), Allura (Voltron), Hunk (Voltron), Coran (Voltron), Krolia (Voltron), Romelle (Voltron), Gamora (Marvel), Loki (Marvel), Mantis (Marvel), Drax the Destroyer, Peter Quill, Stephen Strange, Peter Parker, Cassie Lang, Morgan Stark (Marvel Cinematic Universe)

Relationships: Peter Parker & Mary Jane Watson & Tony Stark, Peter Parker/Mary Jane Watson, Tony Stark & Avengers Team, Peter Parker & Pepper Potts & Morgan Stark (Marvel Cinematic Universe) & Tony Stark, Pepper Potts & Morgan Stark (Marvel Cinematic Universe) & Tony Stark, Clint Barton & Natasha Romanov, Clint Barton & Laura Barton, Clint Barton & His Family

Additional Tags: Avengers Endgame Rewrite, Alternate Universe - Role Reversal

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2YoPA4d

#IFTTT #ao3feed #fanfic #doctor who #dw

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ao3feed-buckybarnes · 5 years

Text

Avengers Annihilation

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2YoPA4d

by KittyontheEdge04

Everything our heroes have been fighting for has all come down to this final test. Will they succeed even with a long period of time they have to deal with?

Words: 2302, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English

Series: Part 24 of The Coexistenceverse Series One

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: Major Character Death

Categories: F/M, Gen

Additional Tags: Avengers Endgame Rewrite, Alternate Universe - Role Reversal

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2YoPA4d

#bucky #IFTTT #ao3feed #fanfic #bucky barnes #james barnes #the winter soldier #james barnes

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ao3feed-voltronlegendarydefender · 5 years

Text

Avengers Annihilation

read it on the AO3 at Avengers Annihilation

by KittyontheEdge04

Everything our heroes have been fighting for has all come down to this final test. Will they succeed even with a long period of time they have to deal with?

Words: 2302, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English

Series: Part 24 of The Coexistenceverse Series One

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: Major Character Death

Categories: F/M, Gen

Additional Tags: Avengers Endgame Rewrite, Alternate Universe - Role Reversal

read it on the AO3 at Avengers Annihilation

#ao3feed #fanfic #voltron #voltron: legendary defender #ao3feed-voltronlegendarydefender

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ao3feed-lokiangst · 5 years

Text

Avengers Annihilation

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2YoPA4d

by KittyontheEdge04

Everything our heroes have been fighting for has all come down to this final test. Will they succeed even with a long period of time they have to deal with?

Words: 2302, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English

Series: Part 24 of The Coexistenceverse Series One

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: Major Character Death

Categories: F/M, Gen

Additional Tags: Avengers Endgame Rewrite, Alternate Universe - Role Reversal

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2YoPA4d

#IFTTT #ao3feed #fanfic #loki #loki fanfic #loki fanfiction #marvel cinematic universe #angst

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paterson-blue · 3 years

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Honey, You're Familiar (Like My Mirror Years Ago); Part 4

Part 4: The Night

Part 1 I Part 2 I Part 3 I Part 4 I Part 5

Summary: Evening turns to night; the date continues.

Word Count: 4,045

Warnings: it's smut y'all. smoochin', sorta titty worship, oral sex (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), protected PIV sex, dirty talk if ya squint?, teeth rotting fluff, original female character–let me know if I need to add anything else!

A/N: Resident beta reader @paper-n-ashes back at it again saving my ass. I'm your biggest fan!!!

Prefer AO3? I gotcha!

“I’d like that.”

It’s all the permission Clyde needs to work off his boots, kickin’ them away before haulin’ himself up. His knees are a little wobbly and he pauses for a moment, makin’ sure his legs aren’ gonna give out the second he takes a step. Juniper leans into him, pressin’ a gentle kiss to his pec, right above his heart. Clyde has to force himself not to grab ‘er an’ kiss ‘er again; they’d never make it to the bedroom if he did.

Juniper makes herself right at home on his bed, layin’ back on the soft duvet and pressin’ her face into one a’ his pillows. Clyde’s heart is in his throat as he peels off his socks and shoves his jeans down. He keeps his boxers on, havin’ tucked himself away—he wasn’ sure if she wanted him naked or not. Even after the blowjob, he didn’ want her to feel like he was expectin’ anythin’.

“Do you—I mean, do y’think that I—“ Clyde tries to get out, flushin’ up to his ears. He rubs his hand over his chest anxiously, clearin’ his throat when she sits up to look inquisitively at him. He takes a breath, forcin’ himself to just ask. “Do’y’thinkIcouldtasteyou?”

Juniper blinks, starin’ at him like she’s tryin’ t’figure out what he’s just blurted out. Clyde steps closer to the bed, brows pinched up, chewin’ on his bottom lip. But then Juniper’s eyes are widenin’, and she’s noddin’ at him quickly. “Yes. Yes, fuck, Clyde, of course you can.”

Honest to god butterflies erupt in Clyde’s stomach, hearin’ how eager she is for him. He moves to clamber onto the bed but then hesitates for a moment, somethin’ naggin’ him in the back of his mind. He goes back an’ forth with himself briefly, not wantin’ to keep her waitin’, before decidin’ fuck it. If he’s ever gonna be comfortable enough to be like this with anyone, it’ll be her.

“Y’mind f’I take this off, honey?” He taps his prosthetic, voice soft. Juniper nods, sittin’ up on her elbows to watch him. Clyde goes through the motions of takin’ it off, first the actual prosthetic, then the sleeve that goes over his limb. He puts ‘em up carefully on his dresser b’fore rubbin’ his hand over where his skin had been compressed all day. It feels a little sticky, which wasn’ anythin’ unusual--he’s got a little packet a’ wet wipes that he uses to wipe away any grime. He thinks maybe he should be more nervous than he is for Juniper to see him like this. He knows she’d never judge him over it, but it can be a little… strange for someone who ain’ used to it. It was strange for him, too, at first.

Juniper lets him take his time, and soon Clyde is comin’ back to her, hair fallin’ into his face when he crawls up the bed next to her. He props himself up with his left arm so he can splay his large hand over her tummy.

“Hi.” He greets her, smilin’ all bashful.

“Hi.” She answers back, leanin’ up just enough so that she can pull his face to hers. She kisses him slowly, her hand reachin’ for his and pullin’ it up to cover one of her breasts. Clyde groans, gently kneadin’ the cushiony flesh, lovin’ how it felt in his palm. He thinks it’s a little funny—how with everythin’ that changed in his life after comin’ back from Iraq, right here an’ now might be the most he’s ever mourned not havin’ two hands.

Juniper’s whinin’ so pretty into his mouth, rubbin’ her thighs together as she wriggles on the bed—Clyde knows what she wants, knows what he promised her. He pulls his mouth from hers so he can trail his lips up her jaw, takin’ her earlobe between his teeth and tuggin’ just a little before droppin’ it.

“Now, just be patient, darlin’. I’ve gotcha.” He murmurs to her, chucklin’ when she tugs on his shoulder, pullin’ him over her—or tryin’ to. Clyde huffs into her neck, shufflin’ over to pin her under him, lowerin’ his large body t’brush against hers. It’s not all his weight—he doesn’ wanna crush her—but it’s enough to feel her warmth. Juniper sighs happily, runnin’ her fingers through his hair.

“Better.”

Clyde hums in response to her, too busy mouthin’ down her throat to say anythin’ proper. He massages her breast in his hand, kissin’ over her neck and shoulders. Pausin’ at her collarbone he worries her skin between his teeth, lappin’ at it with his tongue to soothe any ache he may have caused. His long nose brushes a trail down her chest, between her cleavage; Clyde buries his face there, inhalin’ deep.

“Wanna see yer tits.” He growls out, overcome with need, his words muffled by her warm skin. Juniper inhales sharply before she’s archin’ up her back, tryin’ t’twist her hands around herself. Clyde chuckles, reaches ‘round, an’ unclasps her bra with one hand, easy as pie. Juniper blinks at him and he shakes his head sheepishly. “It’s kinda a party trick Jimmy taught me in high school. Never thought it’d actually come in handy.”

A small smile starts to pull at Juniper’s lips and then she’s laughin’, tuggin’ her bra off and throwin’ it clear across the room. “You’re somethin’ else, Clyde Logan.”

Clyde’s grinnin’ like a fool, and not just because a’ her words. He’s got her bare chest right there in front a’ him all to himself. As soon as Juniper’s layin’ down flat he’s pressin’ his face back between her breasts, plantin’ a kiss there. “Mmm, soft.” He groans, usin’ his right hand and left forearm to squeeze her tits ‘round his face, rubbing his cheeks into her skin.

Juniper giggles, her chest vibratin’ with it. Clyde feels her hands smooth over his hair and he sighs happily; he thinks he could stay like this forever. But he made her a promise, and he plans to keep it. If everythin’ went right tonight, hopefully he’d be able to come back and suck at her dusky nipples as long as he wanted to.

So he hauls himself up, lungin’ forward t’press another kiss to Juniper’s lips b’fore makin’ his way down her body. He nuzzles his face into her soft stomach, kissin’ every little inch a’ her as he settles between her legs. It takes a little maneuverin’ for both of ‘em, tryin’ to find a way for Clyde to fit. Even with Juniper far up against the headboard his calves hang off the bed at an awkward angle. Finally Clyde huffs, impatient to taste her; he hooks his forearms under her knees and tugs her plumb to the end of the bed. Juniper yelps at him, laughin’, sayin’ “Clyde, what are you doing?”

“It’s my turn t’kneel, darlin’,” he growls, and her eyes go all dark and wide as saucers. He doesn’ even think she’s breathin’ as he kneels between her thighs, his fingers hookin’ round the band of her underwear and tuggin’ until the fabric inches down. Juniper snaps back into motion, helpin’ him shove ‘em past her ass until he can pull ‘em off by himself. He clears his throat as he pushes her legs up and open, lookin’ between ‘em with what he knows is pure longin’ in his eyes.

“I haven’--” he starts, his voice cuttin’ out without his permission. She had such a pretty little pussy, folds already glistenin’ with arousal--she was wet because a’ him. Fuck, his mouth is waterin’ alluva sudden. “--haven’ done this part before.” He wants to admit it to her; wants to warn her, so she can lower her hopes an’ expectations. Juniper reaches out, brushin’ the pads of her fingers against the back a’ his hand.

“You don’t have to, Clyde--”

“I want to.” He says, and even he can hear the desperation in his voice. It's true, he does want to. Shit, he’s been havin’ guilty dreams of doin’ this to her for weeks now. Juniper nods, takin’ him at his word. Clyde shifts, tuggin’ her right leg over his broad shoulder an’ usin’ his forearm to press her other thigh open. Goddamn, he swears he c’n smell her like this.

His breath catches in his throat from pure excitement, and before his nerves c’n get the best of ‘im, he leans down to kiss her right between her legs. Juniper sighs, and Clyde thinks he does the same. He’s got his right arm wrapped ‘round her hip, and he uses his index and ring fingers to spread her pussy open, rubbin’ his long middle finger through her slick folds, makin’ sure to press against her clit. Juniper whines, shiftin’ her hips on the bed.

“Clyde, please.”

She sounded so sweet, askin’ him so politely t’take care a’ her. An’ he will, Clyde swears he will, he’ll give her everythin’ she needs t’feel good. He pulls himself outta his trance, havin’ been watchin’ how easily his digit slipped over her--how fuckin’ big it looked against her pussy, how she clenched when he teased her openin’ with the tip a’ his finger. “Sorry, darlin’. Yer just so pretty down here.” He’s a little sheepish at bein’ caught starin’, and gives her inner thigh a little nuzzle before--finally--settlin’ his mouth on her.

He tries t’mimic the previous slow movement of his finger with his tongue, gettin’ used to the feelin’ of her. She’s a burst a’ tangy sweetness in his mouth and quickly finds himself lappin’ her up greedily, lackin’ any sorta self control. The back of his mind tells him he needs t’slow it down, t’find a rhythm like in all the videos, to at least try t’have some kinda finesse.

But he can’t, he can’t, she’s better than he’s ever imagined. Clyde thinks maybe he must be doin’ somethin’ right, ‘cause Juniper’s whinin’, the fingers of one a’ her small hands tanglin’ in his hair. He rubs his face between her legs, his tongue findin’ her entrance just so he can get more of her honey. He thinks--he hopes--that his beard and mustache will be soaked from her when he’s done.

“C-Clyde, baby, I--c’n you--” Juniper’s voice is all shaky, and Clyde looks up at her from between her legs. She looks absolutely beautiful, chest heavin’ and hair all messy from where she’s been tossin’ her head against the duvet. She swallows hard, lettin’ out a harsh exhale before finishin’. “S-Suck on my clit a little, please.” It’s not a request, it’s a command, and Clyde is more than willin’ to comply.

He shifts his hand, reachin’ to press the fat pad of his thumb against her little bundle of nerves, helpin’ his mouth find it. Then he’s doin’ exactly what she told him to, suckin’ gently like it’s the sweetest candy he’s ever had the pleasure a’ tastin’. Juniper whimpers, whines, breath hitchin’ in her chest. Clyde alternates between suckin’ and flickin’ his tongue over her clit, tryin’ t’remember exactly what he’s seen in videos. His jaw starts t’ache a little but he don’ pay it any mind—he’s gonna keep doin’ this until she tells ‘im t’stop.

When she begs him for his fingers it takes a little more shufflin’ around—Clyde feels fuckin’ dizzy at the sight a’ her holdin’ her own legs open for him so he can free his hand. They make it work, and soon he’s pressin’ his middle finger into her pussy, glidin’ easy for how goddamn wet she is. Clyde fuckin’ groans out loud.

“Yer takin’ me so good, darlin’. Just look at’cha.” He barely recognizes his own voice; it's so gravely. He can’t bring it within himself to care, not when she was so hot and tight around his finger. Fuck, how would she feel ‘round his cock? He shifts on his knees at the thought, and is idly surprised to feel that he’s half-hard again, bobbin’ heavy between his legs.

Juniper clenches hard when he presses in a second finger and curls ‘em up to where he knows she needs ‘em. He might be new at usin’ his mouth, but that wasn’ the case with his fingers. And not t’toot his own horn or nothin’, but Clyde had never received any complaints. He wants to watch her fall apart, but when she does, she’s clutchin’ his face so tightly t’her that he c’n barely breathe.

Clyde doesn’ mind. Shit, how could he, with the way she was shakin’ and cryin’ out his name, pressin’ herself t’him all desperate? He doesn’ think he’s ever felt so wanted—so needed—in his whole life. He stills his fingers in her when she finally relaxes back against the bed, givin’ her pussy little kitten licks. Juniper mewls whenever his tongue catches her clit, over-sensitive; Clyde forces himself to leave it alone and not suck at it again the way he wants to.

He pulls his fingers out gently, stickin’ ‘em in his mouth unabashedly as he crawls back onto the bed. Juniper reaches for him with grabby hands and Clyde slots himself over her, lettin’ her brush her palms over his freckled shoulders. He ruts his cock into the crook of her thigh lazily, nuzzlin’ his nose against her cheek.

“That felt so good, baby.” Juniper’s voice is all thick and raspy, it makes Clyde shiver.

“Yeah?” He can’t help but ask, that little part of him always needin’ praise an’ reassurance. Juniper turns her head, snufflin’ against him until she finds his mouth. They kiss lazily, Clyde blushin’ up to his ears thinkin’ about how surely she c’n taste herself on his tongue. He lets his mind drift, not thinkin’ ‘bout anythin’ but her taste, her touch, her satisfied little breaths.

He’s so caught up that he barely notices one a’ her hands disappearin’ until her little fingertips are tracin’ over the length of his cock. Clyde’s hips twitch, and he wrenches his mouth from hers with a broken sound. Juniper’s got a pleased smile gracin’ her lips as she looks up at him and Clyde pouts. “Please don’ tease me, darlin’.”

Juniper hums in response, leanin’ up just a little to nudge her nose against his. “Well who says I’m teasin’?” She circles over his glans as she speaks, and Clyde grunts, thinkin’ to himself that she’s just provin’ his point. He shudders out a breath, rollin’ his hips once more without bein’ able t’stop it, pressin’ his forehead against hers. His hair’s makin’ a cozy little curtain around their faces an’ he doesn’ brush it away. It makes the next words she says more intimate.

“I—I have some condoms in my purse.”

Clyde pulls back from her, eyes gentle as he looks her over, smilin’ a little. “You came over here jus’ t’seduce me, didn’ you?” Juniper laughs, givin’ his shoulder a smack, and Clyde presses a quick kiss to her lips b’fore speakin’ again, more serious this time. “We don’ have’ta, darlin’.”

He knows his voice sounds strained, but he means what he says. Shit, she’s already given him so much a’ herself, he doesn’ want her t’think he’s expectin’ more. But she gives him a smile, usin’ her free hand to curl some a’ his unruly hair behind one a’ his ears. “I know, Clyde. But I want to, as long as you do, too.”

He huffs out a fond laugh. As long as he wanted to. Course he wanted to. He thinks he might implode jus’ thinkin’ ‘bout it. He sits up on his knees, cock juttin’ out, and brushes his fingers over her thigh gently. “In yer purse, huh?”

She nods, tells him ‘small inner pocket,’ and then Clyde’s clamberin’ off the bed, sayin’ I’ll be right back, y’stay right there ma’am. Her answerin’ giggle makes him smile, and he makes his way through the darkened trailer on instinct, knowin’ exactly which areas squeaked and where he might stub his toe. He thinks maybe he should feel embarrassed; he prob’ly looks so silly, diggin’ his giant paw through her small purse, his cock bobbin’ around with each movement.

The second his fingers come into contact with a couple foil packets he’s grabbin’ ‘em and high-tailin’ it back to the bedroom. He squints at ‘em in the dim light, tryin’ t’find the size that worked best for him. He stops short in the doorway when Juniper comes back into view, his chest feelin’ all warm at the sight of her, naked, layin’ in his bed. She smiles at him, sittin’ up and reachin’ for him; Clyde admires the way her body moves, so soft and easy.

“Found ‘em.” He manages to say, tossin’ the extra packets on his dresser before hurryin’ back to ‘er. He crowds her into the pillows, givin’ her a gentle kiss as she takes the condom from his hand. His heart clenches hard in his chest when she insists on rollin’ it onto his cock; it’s intimate, oddly carin’ in a way he hasn’ felt before. He’s struck by it, his love for her. He can’t say it, not yet—it’s too soon, he knows that—but it doesn’ stop him from feelin’ it.

The way she’s lookin’ at him, Clyde thinks maybe she feels it, too.

They end up wrapped in one another, him propped up over her, her legs ‘round his trim hips. He knows it might not be the most adventurous position but he’d told her that he wanted t’see ‘er, t’be close; had asked her if it was okay. Yes, she’d breathed, lookin’ up at him with stars in ‘er eyes, Yes, Clyde. He doesn’ think he’s ever heard his name said like that b’fore.

The first press into her has Clyde’s breath catchin’ in his throat, has him closin’ his eyes ‘fore Juniper can see ‘em rollin’ back into his head. He’s opened ‘er up but goddamn, she’s still so fuckin’ tight. Juniper clutches at his shoulders, whimpering soft oh, oh, oh’s, clenchin’ on his cock as her little pussy tries t’let him in. Clyde wants t’reassure her, to praise ‘er, t’tell ‘er she’s doin’ so good, but words are escapin’ him.

When he finally slides home, Clyde swears it takes the wind outta him, gaspin’ like he’s been socked in the gut. Juniper wails, her ankles diggin’ into his ass like she’s tryin’ t’get him deeper. It makes Clyde fuckin’ dizzy, her need for him. He takes a moment t’catch his breath, usin’ his forearm t’prop himself up as his hand captures her cheek. “Y’feel so good, Junebug, takin’ my cock so nice. Is it okay for ya, honey? Is it good?”

Juniper nods, mouth hanging open. She works her jaw but it takes a moment to speak; when she does, her voice is all trembly. “S’good, Clyde, f-feels so big. S-so big in me.”

Clyde groans, hips twitchin’. “Yeah?” He asks, movin’ his hand down to press gently on her lower stomach. Juniper moans at the pressure, lookin’ up at him with heavy lids. Clyde swallows hard, rubbin’ little circles into her skin with his thumb. “Yer so beautiful, darlin’. Prettiest lil’ thing I ever saw.” His voice is a rasp as he’s suddenly overcome with the moment between them. Juniper arches against him and Clyde can’t hold it any longer.

He rolls his hips against hers with a grunt, tryin’ t’find a good rhythm for both of ‘em. He knows he won’ last long, not with how sensitive he still is from earlier—even so, he wants this t’be good for her. He manages to find an angle that makes her hitch out a cry against his ear and he doubles down, hunched over her as his pistons his hips.

Her pussy is all he can fuckin’ think about—the way it keeps clenchin’ on his cock is drivin’ him crazy. Hot an’ soft, pullin’ him back in the second he starts t’pull out. Clyde grips Juniper’s hip furiously, holdin’ her down on ‘im. He pulls back just a little to watch her belly an’ tits bounce, pantin’ so hard, he don’ think he’s really gettin’ any air in.

“Fuck.” It’s little more than a growl from his lips, his hips speedin’ up of their own accord. Clyde knows what it means, and he fights for a breath so he can actually say somethin’ she c’n understand. “Touch yerself. Wanna—o-hh, wanna feel you.”

He watches as she slips a hand between her legs, rubbin’ circles on her perfect little clit, her fingertips brushin’ his cock every now and then. Clyde groans deep in his chest, eyes fixed on the apex of her thighs, not knowin’ if he wants to watch her touch herself or watch the way he’s disappearin’ so deep into her. “Tha’s’it, darlin’. So good.” He’s slurrin’ his words a little but he can’t bring himself to care, not when every nerve endin’ on his body feels like it’s on fire.

It’s not long b’fore Juniper starts makin’ little gasps, her fingers flyin’, stomach tensin’. He shifts, hookin’ his forearm ‘round one a’ her thighs and usin’ his hand on her hip to angle himself just right. “Y’gonna cum all over my cock, honey?” He’s breathless when he asks, his dark eyes aflame as he watches her. She nods, mouth open, eyes locked on his; Clyde knows the second she cums he’s a goner.

There’s a second, maybe two, and then Juniper’s pressin’ her head back into the pillows, neck archin’ delicately. Clyde lets out a broken sound as her pussy starts flutter around his cock, suckin’ him impossibly deeper, milkin’ him for all he’s worth. He trembles, curlin’ over her body almost protectively as he cums with her, his hips jerkin’ outta his control. He doesn’ hardly recognize the near-feral sounds he’s makin’; swears he’s never made ‘em before.

He tries to hold himself up on shaky limbs, not wantin’ t’squash her, but then she’s clutchin’ him so close that it don’ make a difference. He presses his face into her hair, pantin’ out strained breaths all hot into her ear. Her hands smooth over his sweaty shoulder blades, tracin’ the shape of ‘em as she comes down from her own high.

It’s quiet then, absent the creakin’ of his bed and the slap of his skin on hers. Clyde basks in it—in her—waitin’ for his heart rate to slow. He knows he’ll be sleepy real soon, ‘specially when he’s so warm and safe in his own space. He swallows a couple times, tryin’ t’get his wits about him. Finally he pulls away, smilin’ when Juniper groans in protest.

Her hands drop from his back to his milky white thighs, rubbin’ over the freckles near his knobby knees. It’s so soft an’ gentle that Clyde think he might cry if he thinks too much ‘bout it. He pulls out of her gently, regretfully, but really not wantin’ to deal with a condom disaster if he didn’. He ties off the offendin’ object, takin’ shaky steps to his bathroom to throw it away and clean himself up. He’s back to the comfort of the bed quickly, but not before grabbin’ a warm, damp washcloth for Juniper.

“That was good.” She sighs, after finishin’ up. “Perfect. You’re perfect.” She tells him, and Clyde feels himself flush despite what they’ve just done. He leans down to drop a kiss to her bare shoulder, lookin’ up at her as he does so. He knows if he denies her words she’ll just scold him till he accepts ‘em, so he simply splays his hand over her stomach, rubbin’ it gently.

“Will y’stay?” He asks timidly, nervous. No one ever stayed—hell, he sure didn’ when it was his choice. And while he doesn’ think Juniper would leave, he doesn’ wanna assume anythin’ of her; or, god forbid, get his hopes up. But his sweet, darlin’ Juniper—she just gives him a little grin, eyes all bright with a post-orgasm glow.

“Well I’m not drivin’ back home after all that. My legs won’t work on the pedals!” She jokes, and Clyde laughs, but he understands all the same as she reaches up to curl some a’ his sweaty hair behind his ear. She wasn’ gonna leave him; she was right where she wanted t’be.

______________________________________________________________

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@paper-n-ashes @glassbxttless @mariesackler @leatherboundriot @millenialcatlady @jynzandtonic @peachyproserpina @cornmousequeen @icarusinthesea @heartofjakku

#clyde logan x original female character #clyde logan fluff #clyde logan smut #clyde logan x original character #clyde logan x ofc #clyde logan x oc #clyde logan #clyde logan fic #adcu #adcu fanfic #tori writes #feedback always welcome & appreciated!

54 notes · View notes

paterson-blue · 3 years

Text

Honey, You're Familiar (Like My Mirror Years Ago); Part 2

Part 2: The Question

Part 1 I Part 2 I Part 3 I Part 4 I Part 5

Summary: Clyde considers the best course of action.

Word Count: 4,092

Warnings: fluff, Clyde Logan is in love, alcohol, mild drunkenness, mentions of oral sex (male & female receiving), mentions of PIV sex, mentions of finger action, original female character--let me know if I need to add anything else!

Prefer AO3? I gotcha!

Clyde’ll be the first to admit that he’s shy, sometimes painfully so. He’s always been like this, ain’t no sense tryin’a change it. While Jimmy and Mellie ran eagerly from the car their first day of Kindergarten, Clyde stayed behind, hidin’ behind his Mamma’s legs. He always seemed to be hidin’, in one form or another.

It’s not that he doesn’ like people, because he does. Shit, he worked with the general public for a livin’. He just never really learned how to be social. He’d tried, in his own shy way as a child. But no one ever seemed to like the things he liked, and there was always somethin’ for the bigger kids t’tease him about. His big ears, crooked teeth, coltish limbs, the way he couldn’ pronounce his ‘R’s’... it was dealer’s choice.

As Clyde grew up, his speech impediment faded. He didn’ care too much ‘bout his teeth, and grew into his arms and legs. He never did quite grow into his ears, but he learned how to keep his hair long enough to cover ‘em. He grew to secretly like the way he was different from his siblings—pale and dotted with beauty marks instead of their tan and smattering of delicate freckles.

But by then, Clyde had grown used to bein’ alone. He liked bein’ alone. Sure, he had a couple close friends, even had a girlfriend in high school—short-lived puppy love, nothin’ serious. For the most part, though, Clyde got along fine by himself.

The Rangers had been good for him. He had camaraderie and partnership in a way he never experienced before. Course he didn’ get along with everyone, but who did? He had a good group of buddies; he felt like he was helpin’ out, felt like he was makin’ somethin’ of himself.

Women fawned over his military role, somethin’ Clyde didn’ quite get, but he didn’ care. He lost his virginity at 25 to some girl he met at a bar. He’d been a young man in uniform and she’d made fuckin’ him her damn mission. Sometimes Clyde wishes his first time had been with someone special, but he can’t exactly complain. She’d been nice to him, guided him in a way where he didn’ feel silly. It was good, her bouncin’ on his cock in her car, his head hittin’ the ceilin’ every so often.

The only way he was able to sneak back on base past curfew was because he knew the guard on duty, and she let him off with a stern word and an amused smile. Clyde’s sure he looked a state, but he was too overcome with post-sex bliss to care. He never did see the girl from the bar again, though he supposes it was for the best. She’d gone after him because he was a soldier, he knew that from the get-go. It wasn’ about him as himself; as Clyde.

After he came back from Iraq, well… things were different. He wasn’ the same, not physically, not mentally. Talk goes ‘round in a small town, and Clyde didn’ feel like pursuin’ any sort of anythin’ with the local gals. Most of ‘em were married with kids by then anyway. He kept his head down and pretended like he didn’ hear the whispers or see the looks of pity from people he passed in the grocery store.

Things started lookin’ up after he got Duck Tape. He had somethin’ to be proud of, to show off. He was more sure of himself, sure that he could still do somethin’ with his life. He’d gotten used to his prosthetic, even if he didn’ really like the look of it, but it’s not like he could afford anythin’ fancier. Women would come into the bar from time to time, lookin’ to forget their worries or get revenge on their exes. Clyde didn’ really care what the reason was—he was the bartender, and he knew what they wanted.

Loneliness makes ya do things. Clyde wasn’ ashamed of his hookups; it sure wasn’ like they were happenin’ every week, or even every month. He’d take ‘em into the bathroom, or even sometimes out back behind the building. Press ‘em up against the wall real gentle, let ‘em climb him like a tree. Wasn’ nothin’ that required much talkin’ or social skills.

It was always simple: he’d press his long fingers into their sweet, wet pussy, rubbin at their clit until they were moanin’ so pretty. It didn’ really matter if they remembered his name as they came, just that they forgot anyone else’s. They’d usually give him their hand afterwards, or sometimes their mouth.

Occasionally Clyde would consider askin’ ‘em if he could taste ‘em. He’s never put his mouth on a woman before, not down there. No one’s ever wanted him to. He figures maybe it’s his facial hair; maybe it would be too scratchy, too bushy. All’a the men in the pornos he watched were clean shaven. Come t’think of it, they were usually less hairy everywhere than Clyde was...

Clyde wonders what a woman tastes like. He wants to know what it feels like to press his face between her legs, have her thighs pinnin’ down his big ears. He thinks it would be nice, bein’ surrounded like that. He wonders if he’d be any good. He’s tried movin’ his tongue around like that, alone in his bed at night, just to see if he could. Maybe someone could teach him.

… Maybe Juniper could teach him. What would she taste like?

He shoves the thought out of his head as soon as it appears, feelin’ all sorts a’ disrespectful. She was his friend, she wasn’ around for him to think of like that. She wasn’ his.

… Hook-ups were good. They were fine. It was an orgasm. It was feelin’ a body underneath him—makin’ them grind into his palm, tug on his long hair. They were always over fast, then it was a quick clean-up, the occasional cursory glance at his prosthetic, and a goodbye. Mutual, consensual, fleeting.

Clyde longed for more. Not always with them, though he thought they were perfectly lovely ladies (and a couple men, when he’d been propositioned and curious. But that was a whole ‘nother can a’ worms.) He wanted stability. Wanted someone to love and hold; someone to stay. He was gettin’ tired of relyin’ on the occasional hook-up to get him through life. Tired of people only payin’ him any mind ‘cause of a certain role he played.

First the soldier, then the one-armed bartender. Sometimes Clyde feels like the punch-line of a joke he doesn’ quite get.

He went on the occasional date; rarely any that went past the first dinner, almost never past the third. Always out of town gals that he met at the fair, or an auto show, or sometimes ones that Mellie tried to hook him up with. They were nice. Pretty. Sometimes smart, sometimes funny, sometimes both. And still, Clyde felt like he was just goin’ through the motions.

He gets dressed nice but not too nice, takes ‘em to a classy restaurant, makes sure to compliment ‘em and pull out their chair and pay for dinner. Polite conversation; sometimes interesting, sometimes torturous. Before he got his license suspended he’d drive ‘em back to their place. Walk ‘em to the door, give ‘em a polite goodnight kiss on the cheek—on the mouth, if they’d like.

Sometimes he’d be invited in, sometimes not. Sometimes he’d accept the invitation, and sometimes he wouldn’.

He never felt any real connection. Didn’ feel any sort of spark. After a while he started to think he was the problem. Maybe love just wasn’ for him. He sure as hell wasn’ gonna force it. He didn’ want to end up like Jimmy and Bobbie Jo; or even worse: his own Mamma and Daddy.

So he gave up. He can admit it. He gave up on all of it, even the one night stands. They weren’ what he wanted or needed. He focused on the bar, on his family. Focused on that goddamned heist, the one that tarnished his record but gave him adventure and a better hand—gave him money stowed away for emergency expenses.

Then Juniper showed up and all his resolutions went flyin’ out the damn window.

He felt the sparks with her. Felt that connection he’d been searchin’ for. A month an’ a half of knowin’ her s’all it took for him to fall in love. It was pathetic, it was cliché, it was—well, it was what it was. Part of his brain, the logical part, told him this was all just a ‘honeymoon phase.’ That the attraction of her would die out, eventually. He’d get over her, would stop lovin’ every bit of her, would stop dreamin’ ‘bout her.

Or maybe he wouldn’. And maybe, she’d go back to Portland after she found someone to run the B&B. She’d go back without ever known’ how he felt and he’d never see her again.

Clyde can’t have that. He just can’t.

Clyde’s shy, but he’s never really been fearful. With other women, his nerves were eased by the knowledge that if they said no, he’d likely never see ‘em again. But with Juniper? Clyde was scared shitless.

It wasn’ even that she’d say no, though that thought did fill him with heartache. What worried him was what she would think of him. Would she think that he was just pretendin’ to be her friend to get into her pants? He wouldn’ ever do that. He loved her, respected her. She was more to him than—than her body. A relationship was just a friendship with extra good parts, right?

Clyde doesn’ know if he wants to rock the boat. Doesn’ know if he wants to possibly ruin a good thing. So he ignores the texts and looks his siblings keep sendin’ him and hunkers down. Did the chance of bein’ with her outweigh the risk of losin’ her? Clyde can’t decide.

____________________________

Juniper decides for him.

She doesn’ show up to Duck Tape at her normal time that Thursday afternoon. Clyde waits around, loiterin’ outside, pretendin’ he’s checkin’ the lot for trash. She doesn’ arrive, and it’s damn hot outside, so he retreats to the cool of the bar. Still, he keeps takin’ peeks out the window, a little frown pullin’ at his mouth. Fifteen minutes pass, then thirty; Clyde’s gettin’ a little worried. She never missed their lunches. Surely she would’ve texted if she couldn’ make it?

He’s polishin’ the bartop when there’s a heavy knockin’ at the door, and he drops the rag quick as can be, rushin’ t’answer it. He’s expectin’--hopin’--that it’s her; he’s not expectin’ to open the door and have her fall face-first into his chest. He freezes, arms comin’ up in surprise, instinctively goin’ to cradle her close but stoppin’ right before actually touchin’ her. Juniper groans; presses her face into the buttons of his denim shirt, right between his pecs. She says somethin’, but its muffled, and she has to repeat herself for him to hear her right.

“Nee’ sum water.”

Clyde’s ears perk up, and the corners of his mouth soon follow. He’s heard those words—said in that exact tone of voice—many a time.

“Are y’drunk?”

Juniper huffs, givin’ his chest a weak slap. She leaves her hand to rest there on his chest.

“I was day drinkin’. M’not drunk.”

Clyde arches his brows but doesn’ respond, instead squintin’ at the sun-drenched parking lot.

“... Didja drive here like this?”

Another annoyed huff. Apparently drunk Juniper was haughty. Then:

“No. Mellie dropped me off.”

“Mellie? My Mellie?”

Juniper shrugs, still leanin’ against him, her hand on his chest startin’ to rub little circles over his heart. Clyde realizes what a precarious situation he’s in, her body pressed so sweetly against his. So he wraps an arm around her shoulders, usherin’ her into the air conditioned building.

“Ya better not puke on my nice floors.”

“M’not gonna.”

She pouts, lets him lead her over to a booth and sit her down. He brushes his hand over her hair, light as can be; its soft against his fingertips and he has to force himself to pull away. He keeps a close eye on her as he fills a large glass with water, then comes back to sit across from her. He slides the glass over the table before sittin’ back.

“So. Which bar’d’ya go cheat on Duck Tape with?”

Juniper sips at her water; shakes her head.

“I was at the salon.”

Clyde huffs out a laugh, spreadin’ his long legs out under the table. A’ course Mellie kept the salon well-stocked.

“Thought you’d stood me up.”

It’s only half of a joke, and she seems to understand even in her less-than-sober state, because she looks up at him with wide eyes.

“No! No, I wouldn’... I was just…”

There she goes, makin’ that scrunched up face again, the way she did when she was thinkin’ ‘bout somethin’ unsavory. The urge to kiss it off—to kiss her until her expression relaxes into one of bliss—isn’ new to Clyde. He does his best to ignore it, focusin’ on what she says when she finally finishes her thought. Her accent is stronger like this, the alcohol makin’ her voice lose some of the neutrality law school had instilled. Clyde wants to curl up in it.

“—I was just tryna get some liquid courage but I-I overdid it I think.”

“Well I might have t’agree with that.”

Clyde chuckles, and Juniper lets out her own quiet laugh, pressin’ her hands over her face. She sighs into her palms before sittin’ up straight and placin’ her hands into her lap. The water seems to have helped; Clyde had the impression that she was more on the highly-tipsy side of the fence and hadn’ toppled completely off the edge of sobriety. Her eyes were already clearer—he took the embarrassed hunch of her shoulders as a sign that her mind was clearer, too.

He wants to reassure her that he’s not judgin’ her; that he’s just jokin’ around. His foot shuffles under the table, nudgin’ against hers gently. It makes her look up at him, and he gives her what he hopes is a comfortin’ smile.

“I surely hope you don’ use any a’ that liquid courage in the courtroom.”

Juniper rolls her eyes, but there’s a smile playin’ on her lips.

“You know I don’t do all’a that. I just do the writin’ bits.”

He knows that. Of course he knows that. Every little piece of herself that she shared with him was stored in a special part of his brain. He treasured all of it, treasured that she trusted him with herself.

“... I was just nervous t’come see you today.”

Clyde frowns at that; leans closer to her over the table, arms crossed to his chest.

“Nervous? Why? Have I done somethin’?”

He can’t help the anxiety that bubbles up in the pit of his stomach, can’t help but worry that he’s made some sort of misstep towards her. He was so careful, at least tried to be; tried to push down his feelings for her. He didn’ want her to feel like he was in this for the wrong reasons. She was his friend first and foremost, he wasn’ out to play some sort a’ long con. She’d quickly become the best thing in his life, and he was perfectly happy. He just… wouldn’ ever say no if she wanted somethin’ more.

Juniper shakes her head and sighs again, long and soft. Dejected, almost; or maybe still embarrassed? Clyde can’t tell, but he doesn’ like it. His voice is quiet as can be when he speaks, just a murmur.

“Junebug.”

Her lips quirk up at the silly nickname he’d given her. He’d walked her out of the bar one night and one a’ the damn things had flown into her hair. She’d screamed, he’d laughed, and then he had to pick the poor beetle out of her tresses while she glared at him.

She reaches out suddenly, hand crossin’ the table until her fingertips brush over the cool metal of his prosthetic. Clyde stares as her fingers thread through his; he imagines he can feel the warmth of them.

“... I’ve been trying to get up the damn nerve to ask y’out but I can’t quite get there.”

Clyde’s honey brown eyes flick up to stare at her, his heart in his throat. Surely he’s misheard; surely she didn’ mean… didn’ mean that. But fuck, she’d shown up half drunk, said she was nervous, was holdin’ his hand. Maybe…?

“Ask me. Right now.”

He manages to croak out, voice all breathless. He thinks—idly, in the back of his mind somewhere—that he should be embarrassed. He’s not. For once, he’s not. Juniper glances up at him, studyin’ his face before wrinklin’ her nose up a little.

“If you’re sayin’ that just so you can tell me ‘no,’ I’m gonna be pissed.”

It’s a nervous joke, they both know it. Clyde gently uncrosses his arms, tryin’ not to jostle where she was holdin’ his hand. He places his other hand on top of hers, skin against skin. Even now, like this, she’s so small under him.

“Ask me.”

He repeats softly, and he can almost see her workin’ herself up to it.

“Clyde, do you want to go out tomorrow night? For dinner. Romantically.”

“Yes.”

There’s no hesitation. No silly joke before agreein’, no banter. He doesn’ care if he looks too desperate, too eager. He wants her—wants her holdin’ his hand, wants her tucked under his arm. He wants to pull her chair out for her and walk her to her door at the end of the night. He wants to go through the motions and mean them. And maybe, just maybe, she wanted all’a that, too.

____________________________

Mellie gets wind of the whole thing because of course she does. She shows up at Clyde’s trailer the next day, wakin’ him up outta a very nice dream by bangin’ on the door outside. Clyde supposes he oughta be thankful she doesn’ barge on in. Maybe she’s learned her lesson from last time, when she’d found out the hard way that he sleeps without a lick a’ clothin’ on.

He sleepily makes them some breakfast while she explains her plans for him. She’s takin’ him to get some real nice clothes for tonight, pamperin’ him with some sorta skin treatment, then givin’ his hair and beard a trim. Clyde can’t really complain since she’s insistin’ it’s all her treat, and he definitely can’t tell her no. Besides, he did enjoy hangin’ out with his little sister, and she liked hangin’ out with him… though maybe it was ‘cause he let her get away with more than Jimmy did. Jimmy saved all’a his indulgin’ for lil’ Sadie.

Only bad part is that Clyde’s gonna miss his lunch with Juniper. He texts her, explainin’ that Mellie’s taken him hostage for the whole day. Her response is immediate, assurin’ him it’s okay and that she can’t wait for tonight. It puts butterflies in Clyde’s gut, and he can barely finish his bacon (barely. He still does, though.)

Mellie drives him out to a mall off highway 460, towin’ him from store to store, makin’ him try on this and that and everythin’ inbetween. Clyde hates shoppin’. His body ain’t made for most clothes, and he always feels like a bull in a china shop, the racks too close together and the fittin’ rooms too small. Mellie flits around like a moth to a flame, unbothered by everythin’ goin’ on around her; she’s too focused on her mission.

When they finally leave—three long hours later—Mellie’s got four bags in her arms and only one of ‘em is for her, a fact she’s damn proud of. Clyde just wants to siddown and munch on his pretzel bites in peace. He’s a little nervous ‘bout some a’ the stuff they got, but Mellie was pretty good ‘bout listenin’ to him. For every piece she bought that she insisted he looked good in but he wasn’ sure about, she bought him a piece he was comfortable with.

He’d promised her he’d try to branch out—try somethin’ outta his comfort zone. He’s not sure about that one pair a’ pants though. Jeans that were way too tight, huggin’ his legs and his backside somethin’ fierce, which he knows is strange, because Mellie’s informed him time and time again that he “just doesn’ have the god given ass that her ‘n Jimmy have.”

“Oh, I dunno, Mels,” he’d said, starin’ at himself in the mirror, face doin’ that scrunched up thing he usually only saw on Juniper. His sister had sighed. “Oh c’mon, Clyde, it’s the style now.”

She’d bought ‘em for him, as well as a more Clyde-style pair of jeans, some slacks, two nice button downs, a plaid button-down that Clyde had loved the second he saw it, and a couple buttery-soft tshirts. Some nice new socks and a pair of boots, too, though he tried to refuse her, sayin’ it was way too much. Mellie gave him a warnin’-punch in his side for that one, so he kept quiet as the attendant measured his big feet.

Clyde stubbornly pays for their lunch at Sonic, and they both dare each other to put weird flavors into their drinks the way they did when they was kids. Mellie’s tongue turns blue from the raspberry syrup; Clyde’s thankful he didn’ choose anythin’ that’ll stain his mouth. He doesn’ want to look like a fool in front of Juniper, ‘specially with how nervous he is. It was an excited kinda nervous, but nervous all the same.

The spa is nice. The lady there rubs all sorts of cool, fizzy creams on his face and some lotion on his hands. She even puts nice smellin’ oil into his beard and mustache. Everythin’ is so peaceful, and Clyde struggles to stay awake when his temples are rubbed. He walks out feelin’ an odd mix of sleepy and refreshed, perked up from bein’ tended to; Mellie walks out with a new set a’ nails. The entire ride home she nags at him t’quit touchin’ his face, but Clyde can’t help it! He doesn’ think his skin’s ever been so soft.

Mellie makes quick work of his hair, makin’ sure everythin’ is nice and trimmed and even. Before he knows it he’s back in his trailer, standin’ in front of his closet, starin’ at his new clothes. He chews on the inside of his cheek, stealin’ a look at the clock. Only half an hour before Juniper was s’posed to pick him up. It seems like far too much and far too little time all at once; he couldn’ even decide what to wear!

Fuck. Maybe he shouldn’ve shooed Mellie out so quick. She could be here to help him. He can’t go out on a date in his camo cut-offs and hole-riddled Bob Segar tshirt—he may not be the best at dates or fashion but he knows that outfit wasn’ appropriate.

He rubs his palms over his shorts, clenchin’ his jaw. He could do this. Process of elimination. Slacks were too formal, and he wasn’ anywhere brave enough to try those jeans, so he’d wear the nice dark wash ones he’d picked out. See? Pants done.

He gravitates towards the soft flannel but knows Mellie would kill him if he wore it, so he selects the hunter green dress shirt. Tryin’ t’be brave, Clyde leaves the first two buttons undone to expose his throat. The boots come on last and there, he’s done. He scrutinizes himself in the mirror, cheeks a little pink. Mellie would be proud, he thinks.

With the little time he has left he brushes his teeth, fiddles with his hair, and then brushes his teeth again, just to be sure. He forces himself not to examine his reflection too much lest he chicken out. Five minutes to spare, Clyde sits on the sofa and counts down each second, takin’ deep breaths to center himself, waitin’ for that knock on the door. His heart leaps into his throat when headlights turn t’shine through the windows, and he’s standin’ ‘fore he knows it.

Smoothin’ out his shirt for what felt like the hundredth time, he breathes out slowly through his nose.

‘You can do this, Clyde. Don’ fuck it up.’

#clyde logan #clyde logan x oc #clyde logan x ofc #clyde logan x original female character #clyde logan fic #clyde logan fluff #adcu #logan lucky #tori writes #feedback always welcome & appreciated!

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paterson-blue · 3 years

Text

Honey, You're Familiar (Like My Mirror Years Ago); Part 5

Part 5: The End

Part 1 I Part 2 I Part 3 I Part 4 I Part 5

Summary: The end. But also the beginning.

Word Count: 4,096

Warnings: fluff, smut, bit of (resolved!) angst. smoochin’, brief mention of voyeurism/exhibitionism, food, being nasty in the kitchen, fingering (f receiving), Clyde uses ALL of himself to tend to his darlin', dirty talk, unprotected PIV sex (no chance of pregnancy), breeding kink if you squint (but to be fair you really don't have to squint that hard), super brief mention of magic brownies lmao, these two are both complete saps, original female character–let me know if I need to add anything else!

A/N: This is it for the initial story of Clyde and Juniper. I originally set out to write something short and sweet for my favorite Logan, but things got outta hand. Just because this is the end of this particular storyline doesn't mean they're gone, though--I've got too damn much love for them, and about a hundred oneshots in my head of their future. If anyone else loves them as much as I do, let me know. I've got a lot planned for these cutie-pies, and I'm down to share ;)

And, as always--thank you to @paper-n-ashes for keeping me sane during my editing process. I appreciate each time you yell your love at me.

Prefer AO3? I gotcha!

It’s late when Clyde wakes up, he c’n tell by the angle a’ the light peekin’ through his blackout curtains. He groans out a yawn, stretchin’ his long limbs and rubbin’ sleep outta his eyes. He’s alone in the bed, but he ain’t worried—the savory scent and quiet music driftin’ in from the kitchen tells him Juniper hasn’ gone far.

He hums t’himself, rollin’ over and pressin’ his face into the pillow beside his. The fabric smells like her shampoo, and Clyde considers—just for a moment—takin’ the time t’rut his hips into the mattress. He knows he could get off like that, t’her scent alone; it never took much in the mornin’.

Maybe she’d catch me, he thinks t’himself. Maybe she’d wanna watch. The idea a’ it makes him blush all over even as his cock starts t’fill out against his thigh, and Clyde knows he needs t’get his head outta the gutter—at least until breakfast is had. So he rolls over onto his back, shovin’ his messy hair outta his face. They’d gone out. They’d slept together. She was still here.

Clyde hauls himself outta bed, twistin’ his neck from side t’side in an attempt t’get rid a’ the stiffness in his joints. He doesn’ feel like puttin’ much a’ anythin’ on, prosthetic included, so he settles for a clean pair a’ boxers. He gets a peek at Juniper as he shuffles into the bathroom—she’s wearin’ one a’ his old tshirts, and it makes Clyde feel weak in the knees. He takes a leak, washes up, and brushes his teeth; he’s plannin’ on bein’ very generous with his kisses and he wants them t’be minty fer her.

Juniper turns t’give him a smile when he comes out, her gaze sweepin’ over him in a way that makes Clyde feel real good ‘bout himself. She looks hungry—for him, not the food. “Mornin’ sleepyhead.” She greets him, and Clyde comes right over like she’s pullin’ him on an invisible string. He leans in t’capture her lips with his, kissin’ her deeply, languidly, his hand restin’ lightly on the back a’ her neck.

Juniper sighs happily, reachin’ out with her free hand to rest against his bare stomach; her fingers knead into the modest pudge there, but not in a way that makes Clyde feel self conscious. It kinda feels like she’s savorin’ him—he likes the way she moves t’smooth her small palm over the little swell of his body near his hip, right before the slight dip leadin’ to his ribcage.

Clyde grumbles when she pulls away, and Juniper laughs, givin’ his side a tap. “Oh hush, I’m making you breakfast. I’ve already fucked it up, I don’t need more distractions.” She huffs, turnin’ back to the stove, and yelpin’ when she sees the state of the sizzlin’ bacon in the cast iron skillet. “Oh, goddamn it! See?” She speaks as she frantically plucks the over-crisp pieces outta the grease and onto a paper towel lined plate. “I’m such a shit cook, I think I’ve burned almost every single one.”

She pouts, a tiny frown creasin’ her forehead, and Clyde—well he can’t help but laugh. Juniper whips her head around t’aim a glare at him. She points in his direction with her spatula, the gesture an attempt at being threatenin’. “Oh don’t you laugh at me, Clyde Logan, I swear I’ll—“

“Darlin’,” Clyde hurries to speak, still chucklin’ but not wantin’ t’be smacked by the weapon she was brandishin’, “—darlin’, I like my bacon burnt like that.” Juniper narrows her eyes at him, but Clyde insists he’s tellin’ the truth; that he always cooks it crisp so it melts in yer mouth. The spatula is lowered slowly, and finally Juniper speaks, her tone lofty.

“… Well then I meant to make it that way.”

Clyde can’t help the full blown guffaws that come from his chest, and he’s pleased when she giggles along with him. He feels light as air, standin’ here in his kitchen laughin’ with her. She goes back to cookin’ the last bits of bacon and Clyde finally takes the time t’look at everythin’ else she’s got set out. For someone who couldn’ cook, she’s really figured out what t’do with his meager pantry.

There’s bread set out near the toaster along with butter and Ms. Hawkins’ preserves, a big bowl full’a steamin’ hot scrambled eggs, and a buncha cut up apple slices with a jar a’ peanut butter next to ‘em. Clyde smiles, feelin’ all warm inside; he looks over t’where Juniper’s turnin’ off the stove. “Well now, this here looks like a proper feast, Junebug. Thank ya. You didn’ have t’do all’a this.”

He notes her pleased smile even as she shakes her head, pattin’ dry the bacon before bringin’ it over. “Well I wanted to do something nice for you. I know it’s not anything fancy—“ She’s cut off with a kiss, Clyde dippin’ down t’stop her words in their tracks. He makes it quick, not wantin’ t’get distracted and let the food go cold. Even so, Juniper has a dreamy look on her face when she turns ‘round to get plates from the cabinet opposite a’ him.

Clyde’s reachin’ out to snag a piece a’ bacon right as she reaches up to get the dishes, his shirt ridin’ up her torso, and oh. Clyde freezes in place, gaze focused on her cute lil’ ass—and more. She wasn’ wearin’ any underwear. Walkin’ around in his shirt, makin’ him breakfast, without anythin’ on underneath. Any thoughts of the food goin’ cold disappear from his mind as Clyde crosses the short distance in one long stride, plasterin’ himself against her.

Juniper yelps, scramblin’ t’hold the plates t’her chest as she drops back flat on her feet. “Clyde, what’s—?” She cuts herself off as his large hand palms over her ass, and a pleased hum falls from her mouth instead. She sets the plates down onto the countertop, leanin’ back into his strong chest. Clyde doesn’ really know what’s come over him, he just knows he has t’touch.

He wraps his left arm ‘round her waist, forearm pressin’ just under her breasts as he lets his right hand delve between her legs, thick fingers dippin’ into her folds. Fuck, she was wet. Had she woken up the same way he had? Wantin’ t’get off? Did she?

“This all fer me, darlin’?” He rasps out quietly, leanin’ in t’press his face into her shoulder. Juniper nods, lettin’ out the sweetest little whimper as she widens her stance just a tad, welcomin’ him in. Clyde rubs his fingers back and forth through her slick, makin’ sure t’catch her clit each time, groanin’ when her hips start t’rock.

“S-S’possed to wait until a-after breakfast, Clyde.” Juniper chides him, her voice breathless; it makes him chuckle as he rubs the tip a’ his nose over her neck.

“Well, maybe I want dessert first, sugar.” He rumbles out, and Juniper shivers under him. Clyde presses his fingers t’her real gentle, not wantin’ t’hurt her, but the way she’s wrigglin’ down onto him makes him think she’s fine. Her pussy takes two a’ his fingers easily, suckin’ ‘em in all eager. So greedy, just fer him. Clyde lifts his head enough t’nibble on her earlobe, curlin’ his fingers deep, deep, deep inside her.

“Oh, oh, oh, C-Clyde, please.” She sounds so beautiful, his darlin’, archin’ up on her tiptoes fer him. He stretches her out on his fingers as he fucks her with ‘em nice and slow, fillin’ her up. Juniper’s bracin’ herself on the countertop with shaky arms, and Clyde can’t help but press kisses t’the back of her neck. She clenches each time the pads a’ his fingers find that lil’ spongy spot inside a’ her; it makes Clyde groan.

“Think y’can take another one, Junebug? Getcha all nice n’ ready for me. Gonna sit’cha down real easy on m’cock while we eat breakfast.” Christ, Clyde can barely believe the words comin’ outta his mouth, blushin’ as he speaks. His poor mamma, bless her soul—she’d smack the shit outta him fer ever talkin’ to a lady like this.

But Juniper keens, soundin’ wild—tells him yes, yes, Clyde, give it to me, please. Clyde thinks that if heaven exists, it’s this right here. Feelin’ her tight lil’ pussy stretch ‘round his ring finger makes him fuckin’ dizzy, and he lets out a shaky breath into her hair, tryin’ t’keep his cool. “Tha’s m’good girl.” He tells her, even as his voice rasps over each word. She’s killin’ him like this.

“Wantcha t’cum, darlin’. Cum all over me.” There’s desperation in his voice and he can’t bring himself t’care. Juniper fidgets, twistin’ a little, and then lets out a frustrated whine. She tries t’say somethin’ but her breath keeps gettin’ caught in her throat. It’s Clyde’s fault, and he knows it—he just can’t stop fuckin’ his fingers deeper.

Finally she hitches out somethin’ ‘bout her clit, and Clyde realizes she can’t touch herself in this position, not with how she was balancin’ herself up against the countertop. His brows furrow as he tries to find a solution, and he stops movin’ his fingers for a second, which earns him a whimper from Juniper.

Clyde nuzzles his face into her hair, feelin’ slightly panicked about leavin’ her in such a state—he moves his left arm before even really thinkin’ ‘bout it. He’s never done it with anyone before, but all he c’n think of when he curls closer t’press his residual limb between her thighs is givin’ her somethin’ to rub against. Juniper just sighs in relief, workin’ her hips back and forth on him, and Clyde fuckin’ moans. “Shit, honey, yer soakin’ me.”

She is—he c’n feel her drippin’ down his hand; knows his forearm must be all shiny with slick. He wants t’rub up against her but refrains. This wasn’ about him, it was about her. Juniper must find an angle that works particularly well, because suddenly she’s gaspin’ out his name, thighs tremblin’ as her pussy clenches ‘round his fingers somethin’ fierce. Clyde works her through it, lettin’ her jerk her hips against his arm until she’s weak in the knees.

He’s gentle with her as she comes down from her orgasm—removes his fingers slowly, slidin’ his hand and forearm over her body t’steady her on her feet. “Yer so gorgeous, darlin’.” He tells her as she turns, pressin’ herself into his bare chest, hands greedy where they slide over his freckled back. Clyde drops a kiss t’her temple, hopin’ it’ll somehow convey everythin’ he feels fer her. “All mine. My Juniper.”

His words are quiet between them, as if he doesn’ actually want ‘em t’be heard. But she hears them—hears him, the way she always does. And she’s noddin’, holdin’ him even tighter. “All yours, Clyde.” There’s a part a’ him that wants t’cry, hearin’ that. Instead, he helps her over to the couch, sittin’ her down. “Alright, honey, you stay here n’ I’ll fix y’a plate.”

Juniper pouts, lookin’ up at him, already reachin’ out for the front a’ his boxers. “But what about you?”

Clyde sidesteps her advances, givin’ her a fond smile. “Later, Junebug. We gotta get some food into us ‘fore we plumb pass out,” he teases, and she huffs at him, but smiles as he goes t’wash up and ready their food.

They eat quietly and quickly, side by side. Clyde hasn’ realized just how hungry he is, and Juniper seems t’be in the same boat with the way she's scarfin’ down her meal. Dinner feels like it was ages ago, and they’d certainly worked up an appetite. They both go fer seconds, and Clyde finishes up the rest of the scraps before they’re content enough t’rest back against the couch together.

Juniper leans into his shoulder, sighin’ softly. “Clyde?” She asks as she curls into his side, restin’ her hand on the forearm he had draped over his bare stomach. He watches her fingertips trace the puckered scar at the end a’ his limb, a knot wellin’ up in his throat; no one ever touched him there—not like this.

“Hmm?” he finally responds, not quite trustin’ his voice t’actually speak. Juniper’s quiet fer a moment, and somethin’ nervous prickles in the back a’ Clyde’s head.

“… l got a new job,” she finally says, fingertips still dancin’ over his skin, “-at a nonprofit. A human rights center, sort of like a defense fund. Pro-Bono work for those that can’t afford lawyers, or who’re facing unjust convictions. Challenging unconstitutional prison conditions—that sort of thing.” Her voice is soft, like the news is a secret she’s not sure if she should tell.

Clyde shifts, his stomach suddenly feelin’ like it’s been filled with lead. He tips his head back against the couch, lookin’ up at the ceilin’. He’s known, of course, that there’d be an end date t’her. Even if she stayed fer now, she still had her life, her job, her things ‘cross the country, in some big fancy city. It's always been conditional, her bein’ here with him. He knew that when he started all a’ this with her. It still hurts.

“That’s great, Junebug,” he says gently, because it is great, and he should be happy fer her. “That’s what you said you’ve been wantin’ t’do, right? I know you’ll be perfect. Y’always like t’help people out.” When? When was she leavin’? How much longer does he have with her? How much time does he have t’be selfish, t’have her as his?

“It’s based in Atlanta but I can work almost entirely remotely. I may have to go into the home office every couple of months but—“ she shrugs, the fabric a’ her tshirt rubbin’ against Clyde’s bare skin, “—other than that, my computer is fine. So I’ll do that full time, and my job in Portland says they like me and want me to continue working remotely as a legal consultant. The money’ll be good, so I figure why not.”

Clyde’s brows knit in confusion, and he finally twists ‘round t’really look at her, squintin’ his eyes. “Now hold on, yer sayin’ yer gonna do both these jobs on yer computer? Why?” Maybe he can convince her t’move t’Atlanta. It was far, but it was damn closer than Portland. Plane tickets couldn’ be that expensive, and maybe she wouldn’ mind makin’ the seven hour drive every other week. Every other month, even, just as long as he c’n see her—

Juniper reaches up t’curl some a’ his hair behind one a’ his ears b’fore tracin’ the shell of it. She rubs his helix between her thumb and index finger affectionately, followin’ the curve a’ the cartilage down t’ his earlobe. “Well I thought I’d move back. Here, I mean. My uncle left me the house; I could fix it up even if it isn’t a functioning bed and breakfast anymore. Besides—I’ve got more than a few reasons to stick around.”

Clyde stares at her, and shit, he can already feel his pouty bottom lip tremblin’ away. “Y’mean that?” He asks, because he has to know. Juniper nods, movin’ her hand to his face, thumbin’ over his cheekbone. “Yes, Clyde. As—I mean, as long as it’s okay with you.” She looks nervous, as if she honestly believes he might not want her around. Clyde chokes out a shaky laugh, and then he’s pullin’ her into his lap.

There’s nothin’ sexual ‘bout the way he holds her t’him, despite the fact that he can feel the heat of her through his boxers. Clyde wraps both his arms ‘round her back, face pressed into her neck as he breathes in her scent. “Yer stayin’.” It’s not a question, but a confirmation of what she’s said—it’s him reassurin’ himself. Juniper winds her arms around his broad shoulders, nestlin’ her cheek into his hair.

Their silent embrace turns into Clyde pressin’ gentle, urgent kisses to her throat, drawin’ a line up to her jaw with his long nose. He’s not needy fer sex, really; just needy fer her. Because she’s here, and she’s not goin’ anywhere—she’s decided t’keep him. It’s the most wonderful thought in the whole damn world.

Later, when Juniper eases him back onto his bed, all he can do is look up at her adorin’ly. She murmurs sweet nothin’s t’him as she sinks onto his cock, this time without any latex between ‘em. Clyde’s never made love with anyone b’fore, but he knows this—Juniper ridin’ him slow, the roll a’ her hips unhurried as the two of ‘em nudge noses together—he knows this must be what it’s like.

He has the urge t’say it again, those three little words; wants t’breathe ‘em into her lungs, have her breathe ‘em back. But he doesn’—he knows now that he’ll have plenty a’ opportunities t’tell her in the future. He lets other things fall from his lips instead, brushin’ against hers so sweetly. “Makin’ me feel so good, darlin’. Please don’ stop.”

She sighs out his name when his hand grips her ass, helpin’ her rock back an’ forth in his lap. Clyde knows it won’ take long at all fer him to cum, not with his emotions runnin’ haywire and him still bein’ so pent up from fingerin’ her in the kitchen. He tells her so, body tense as he tries t’rein himself back in.

“This is for you, Clyde,” she says warmly, tanglin’ her fingers in his hair and tuggin’ enough that he tips his head back with a moan. He lets his mouth drop open, eyes closed as he savors the pressure ‘round his cock and the pleasure-pain a’ the consistent pull at his hair. Her pussy feels like it’s gettin’ even tighter, and Clyde let’s out a soft grunt as Juniper drops down harder onto him.

“Want you to cum in me, baby.” Her words waft over him, thick and saccharine, cloying. Clyde’s mouth goes dry and he forces his eyes open, heart racin’. Juniper gives him a devious smile and oh, she’s beautiful, beautiful. “Wanna feel you so deep, keep you inside me. Wanna feel your cum dripping out of me.”

“Oh my god,” Clyde croaks, his grip bruisin’ on her hip. He’s so close, fuck, he’s so fuckin’ close he’s dizzy with it. He jerks his hips up, thighs tensin’ at the movement, jostlin’ her a little—she recovers quickly, rockin’ her hips faster to appease him. “You like that, Clyde? You wanna fill me up? Make me yours?”

“Yes,” he cries out, voice ragged, somethin’ feral clawin’ behind his ribs. He stares at her—can’t take his eyes off a’ her even as his chest heaves with each breath. “I’ll fuck ya full. Ain’t never gonna have any other man but me, y’got that? Yer mine, I’ll—I’ll give ya everythin’ y’want.” It’s filth, spillin’ from his mouth unbidden, his tone little more than a heated growl.

“Give it to me then, baby. C’mon.” Juniper urges him, breathless, eyes dark. And Clyde does. He thought he came hard last night, but this? He makes a strangled noise, toes curlin’ and skull hittin’ the headboard as he jerks his neck back. He barely registers the sting of it, too busy drownin’ in the way his cock’s pulsin’ inside a’ her pussy. Fuck, he can feel the heat a’ his cum as it fills her up.

Juniper moans, grindin’ down on his lap, her hands on his chest t’balance herself. Clyde’s lost in a haze, head spinnin’. He’s suddenly not sure he can handle mind blowin’ sex like this all a’ the time, what with her stayin’ an’ all. The thought makes him giggle—honest t’god giggle, the sound light and airy as it breaks in his chest. He feels loopy, like he does whenever Mellie comes over and insists on him taste testin’ the special brownies she likes t’make.

Juniper smiles at him, admirin’ how he looks: pale skin patchy red and sweaty, his hair a mess, a dopey grin on his face that shows off his crooked teeth. She drums her fingertips over his pecs, tryin’ t’keep from laughin’ herself. “Did I break you?” she asks solemnly, which only makes another giggle burst from Clyde’s lips.

He nods in the affirmative. “Uh huh.”

It takes them a while t’collect themselves, both needin’ time t’get their brains back online; they keep sendin’ one another into laughin’ fits with just a glance. How they manage t’actually get outta bed, Clyde isn’ sure. But, eventually, they’re crammed into his shower together, passin soap and shampoo back an’ forth. They’re smart enough t’not do too much touchin’, fer fear a’ never gettin’ out (or maybe fear a’ slippin’ and fallin’ while tryna do somethin’ silly.) Still, Clyde can’t help but steal a couple messy kisses, laughin’ when water streams down his nose right into her face.

There’s no rush in the day, no urgency fer Juniper t’go on home, though they both know she’ll have to at some point. Clyde’ll run outta boxers and tshirts soon enough if they keep sharin’ his clothes. He thinks it’s perfectly fine by him if they wait until then, though, fer her t’leave.

Juniper insists on cleanin’ up the kitchen while Clyde strips the bed and starts a load a’ laundry. He spends special time makin’ it, bein’ neater than he has in a while. If she does stay the night again, he wants things t’be absolutely perfect. Juniper comes in and watches him after a while, apparently havin’ finished her chores.

She leans against the doorframe, studyin’ the way he tucks the corners a’ the duvet under the mattress. “I’ve still got to go back to Portland, you know. To get my stuff and figure out what to do about my apartment.” Her tone is thoughtful, and Clyde nods in acknowledgment, hummin’ softly to himself. He knows she still has t’go back—she’s been sublettin’ her place but all her belongin’s were still ‘cross the country.

“When d’ya think you’ll go?” He asks, turnin’ ‘round t’face her. He finds that he’s not upset anymore at the thought a’ her bein’ gone; not when he knows she’ll be comin’ back t’him. Juniper makes a face, lettin’ out a sigh. “I’ll have to look at ticket prices. Shit’s expensive. Plus, probably gonna have to drive back, so that’s a rental truck, and places to stay…”

Her voice goes all quiet with her musings, brows knittin’ up as she chews on her bottom lip. Clyde sits on the edge of the bed and holds a hand out to her; she automatically comes to stand between his legs. He wraps his arms ‘round the backs a’ her thighs as he looks up at her, smilin’ softly. “Do ya think you’ll need any help?”

Juniper arches her brows at him, her own small smile tuggin’ at her lips. She reaches out to curl his hair behind his ears, tuggin’ at his earlobes as she does so. “What, you wanna come to Portland with me? Be stuck in a car together the whole way back?”

Clyde chuckles, squeezin’ her legs tight. “What? That don’t sound like a bondin’ experience t’ya?”

Juniper giggles, leanin’ in t’press a kiss to Clyde’s forehead. “Well, what if instead of bonding we end up hating one another? It’s like a four day drive, maybe more with a trailer and staying rested. Aren’t you worried the curse’ll get us?” Shes jokin’, but Clyde can tell she’s also askin’ an honest question, revealin’ her own insecurities without sayin’ em outright.

He takes a moment t’really think about it. He’s been convinced of the curse nearly his whole life, makin’ a mental tally mark of each little slight. There were far too many for all a’ them t’be coincidences, surely. Clyde’s been terrified of fate turnin’ it’s evil eye on whatever was blossomin’ between himself and Juniper—been so scared of them bein’ ruined.

But then again. A cracked windshield brought them together, all those years ago. An untimely death brought her back t’him, even if he hadn’ known at the time. Not bein’ able t’find a caretaker fer the bed & breakfast made her stick around fer the summer, givin’ them their daily lunches at Duck Tape. A wine-induced headache got them t’gether. A thunderstorm and a missed reservation lead t’sharin’ sweet kisses in her car, lead t’him invitin’ her in—lead t’this, them, here, now.

Aren’t you worried the curse’ll get us?

Clyde smiles. “Nah,” he says, feelin as sure as ever when he takes her hands in his. “I don’t think I am.”

______________________________________________________________

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#clyde logan x original female character #clyde logan x original character #clyde logan x ofc #clyde logan x oc #clyde logan fic #clyde logan fluff #clyde logan smut #clyde logan #adcu #adcu fic #tori writes #feedback always welcome & appreciated!

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paterson-blue · 3 years

Text

Honey, You're Familiar (Like My Mirror Years Ago); Part 3

Part 3: The Date

Part 1 I Part 2 I Part 3 I Part 4 I Part 5

Summary: Things don't go exactly to plan. Clyde stresses.

Word Count: 4,010

Warnings: fluff, spice, grumpy Clyde Logan, pouty boy (but he's still in love), sentimentalism, sickly sweet pet names, smoochin', grindin', oral sex (male receiving), cum on body (not in!), original female character–let me know if I need to add anything else!

A/N: Thanks again to @paper-n-ashes for being my beta reader & quelling all my writing jitters. You're the absolute best!

Prefer AO3? I gotcha!

It’s a fuckin’ disaster.

Starts out nice. Juniper shows up on his doorstep wearin’ a slinky little black dress, one that shows off her curves and makes Clyde’s mouth go dry. She tells him he looks handsome and he feels giddy. He sweeps his newly styled hair out of his face, sayin’ she looks absolutely stunnin’. Juniper beams, grabs his hand, tells him they better get a move on ‘fore they’re late.

They’re late. They’re later than late.

They aren’ five minutes outta town when lightenin’ starts to streak across the sky. Clyde shifts uneasily, eyes cast upward towards the swirling heavens. It’s rainin’ cats and dogs in no time and Juniper has to slow to half the speed limit to drive safely. Clyde’s thoughts go to the river up ahead, the one the road crew was still tryna’ re-stabilize since the last storm flooded it.

Fifteen minutes from their destination and they have t’pull to a stop on the highway, suddenly blocked in a jam. Flashin’ red and blue lights indicate an accident up front, and while Clyde spares a thought to whoever was involved, he can’t help but check the time. They aren’ gonna make their reservation, he just knows it.

The car behind ‘em lays on its horn, the sound makin’ both Clyde & Juniper jump. The driver either doesn’ seem to understand the concept of bein’ stuck or plain just don’ care. Clyde clenches his jaw, glowerin’ into the rear view mirror—he can only see the driver’s silhouette behind the bright glow of the headlights. He’s keepin’ his cool until the driver reaches his arm out, in the pourin’ rain an’ all, just t’give Juniper the finger.

Clyde’s unbucklin’ his belt quick as can be, chest heavin’ as he reaches for the door handle. He’s ‘bout ready to stomp to the car and yank the man out.Teach ‘im a lesson on manners, teach ‘im t’treat a lady like—

“Clyde.” Juniper stops him in his tracks with just his name on her lips. He looks over at her from under his hair, expression tense. She reaches up to caress his cheek, holdin’ his face in her little palm so sweetly, thumb brushin’ over the sharp line of his jaw. “Leave him be. It’s not worth gettin’ into trouble.”

Clyde deflates, honey brown eyes downcast. He sounds miserable when he speaks. “… We’re gonna miss dinner.”

“I know, sugar. It’s okay.”

His heart flutters in his broad chest despite his distress. She’d called him ‘sugar.’ He likes that; wants to hear it again real soon.

By the time they get through all the traffic and make it to the restaurant, their reservation is indeed gone, table havin’ been given away. They stand together just outside the building, under the little awning in an attempt to stay out of the rain.

Clyde huffs, so morose that he’s unable to enjoy the way she was pressed up against his side. “M’sorry.”

Juniper frowns, reachin’ up to pat his stomach gently. “You stop that. You haven’t done anything to be sorry for.”

Clyde shakes his head sadly, heavin’ out a sigh. “It’s the Logan Family Curse.”

She looks up at him, brows arched, her hand still settled on his belly. “Oh is it now?”

He nods, brows pinched together. Juniper reaches for his hand, pulling it to her lips and pressin’ a kiss to his knuckles. “You aren’t cursed, Clyde Logan. And if you are, I’m perfectly happy to be cursed right along with you.”

Clyde doesn’ quite know how to respond to that, but luckily, he doesn’t have to right away. Juniper moves her lips to the pads of his large fingers, kissin’ ‘em gently before lettin’ him pull his hand away. Clyde cradles her pretty face in his palm, takin’ the time to admire her. Finally, he speaks. “Thank you, darlin’. That’s mighty nice of you t’say.”

Juniper nuzzles into his touch, sighin’ happily; it makes Clyde feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

“I’m only saying what’s true. Now c’mon. I know it’s a Friday night but there’s bound to be somewhere we can eat.”

They end up findin’ an old fashioned drive-in burger place, somewhere they can park and eat in the car out of the rain. It’s not where Clyde wants to take her; she deserves to be wined and dined all proper, not greasy burgers and milkshakes. But Juniper doesn’ seem to mind; as soon as they’re parked she’s squintin’ up at the menu, a big smile on her face.

“This all sounds so fucking good.” She giggles, lookin’ over at him. It makes the disappointment in Clyde’s chest fade away, and he leans over the center console to peer out the window to see what choices they were offered. It puts him in her space, and Juniper leans in to press a gentle kiss to his temple. He blushes, his cheeks only getttin’ hotter when she brushes some of his hair out of his face. He desperately wants to kiss her but he doesn’ know if it’s the right time.

He’s finally acceptin’ the night’s change of plans—finally acceptin’ that this might be good, burgers and fries while dressed up nice, watchin’ the rain pour from the safety of Juniper’s little Corolla—when the carhop comes out to tend to them. Clyde’s already diggin’ into his wallet as Juniper rattles off their order; he holds his debit card out, arm reachin’ over Juniper’s lap.

The carhop doesn’ move for the card. Instead, they say “Card machine’s down. Cash only.” in what Clyde thinks is possibly the most bored tone they could muster. He tries not to bristle as he fumbles with his wallet for a second time, patience already worn thin from the night’s events. He’s only got a fifty in his billfold. The fifty.

Their fifty.

He hesitates, even though he knows it’s irrational; Jimmy always did tell him he was too damn sentimental for his own good. Juniper must realize—she always does, Clyde never seems to have to explain himself to her—because she grabs her purse from the floorboard. Clyde stops her, shakin’ his head as he tugs the fifty dollar bill out. “S’alright, darlin’. Y’told me t’save it for a rainy day.”

Juniper’s face softens at his words, and Clyde hands the money over to the carhop, who looks like they want to be literally anywhere else. Soon Clyde’s been given his change, and he quickly puts it back up. As soon as he’s done Juniper’s reachin’ for him, pullin’ him in by his collar. Clyde goes willingly, twistin’ in his seat to move his prosthetic to the middle of her back, arm wrapped around her.

“I’ll give you another one.” She tells him firmly, and Clyde huffs out a laugh.

“Well that’d be awful silly of ya, Junebug. You’ll run outta money real quick if y’keep givin’ it all t’me.” He tries to soothe her with a joke, wantin’ to let her know that it was alright. Sure, it had been special to him—reminded him of their meetin’—but it was just a piece a’ paper. What was a piece a’ paper when he had the most important thing right here in front a’ him?

He wants to curl up further into her, but their positions don’t allow for it—the vehicle doesn’ exactly allow for him to move his long limbs much a’ anywhere. If this was as close as he could get, he was satisfied. Juniper shifts suddenly, eyes trained on him as she leans closer. They share a breath, then two, and then she’s pressin’ her mouth against his.

It’s nothin’ if not chaste. Clyde gets the feelin’ she doesn’ exactly want to neck in the front seat of her car like teenagers—at least not in plain view of the drive-in’s staff and other patrons. Just a gentle kiss, a little more than a peck; firm and lingerin’ just enough that he knows it happened. Juniper follows it up with another one at the corner of mouth, their noses pressin’ against one another’s cheeks.

It’s more than enough for Clyde; more than enough to get his pulse to sky rocket. He can’t remember the last time he’s been treated so gently, so much love in such a small movement. She gives him a smile when she pulls away, and they both sit back in their seats, starin’ all heart-eyed at one another. She takes the metal of his hand in hers, holdin’ it, and Clyde thinks maybe he should reconsider the whole curse thing.

They head back home after finishin’ their meal, the storm slowly peterin’ off as they get closer to Clyde’s trailer. Juniper walks him to his door, gigglin’ when she offers him her arm to escort him. He takes it, grinnin’ like a fool as they stomp up the front steps. They stand there under the yellow porch light, humid heat surroundin’ ‘em. Clyde usually hated the humidity, but not when it was like this, creatin’ such a hazy, intimate bubble around ‘em. Juniper drops her arm, but only to reach for Clyde’s flesh hand, holdin’ it in both of hers.

“I had a really nice time tonight, Clyde. Best date I’ve ever been on—and I mean that.”

Clyde can feel himself blushin’, a pleased smile turnin’ his lips up. “I had a good time, too. Wouldja—wouldja wanna do it again? Sometime soon?”

“Yes.” She answers almost before he can finish askin’, and they both laugh. There’s a beat, a pause, a breath, and then Juniper is leanin’ up the same moment Clyde’s leanin’ down. It’s a relief when their lips touch, like the first drink a’ water in the mornin’. Clyde thinks he’s been parched his whole life and never even knew it.

Juniper’s the one who deepens it, the one who drops his hand to lean into him, to thread her fingers through his thick hair, holdin’ him close. And fuck, Clyde isn’ gonna fight it. He wraps his arm around her, prosthetic against her back as his hand moves to hold her face. His palm envelops her cheek, thumb under her chin to keep her head lifted. They kiss and kiss, and when she makes a little whine in the back of her throat Clyde swears he’s floatin’.

When she pulls away to breathe he makes a sound of his own, a disappointed little groan that she huffs out a laugh at. He’d be embarrassed if she wasn’ nuzzlin’ her nose against his cheek like she can’t get enough.

“Those lips a’ yours aren’t fair.” She murmurs, and Clyde hums, strokin’ his thumb along her jawline. He doesn’ want this to end, he thinks for possibly the thousandth time that night. He doesn’ wanna let her get back in her car an’ drive across town, over the train tracks, past the antique shop, until she gets to the bed & breakfast.

He wants her right here, and he’s never been the one in this position, but he doesn’ hesitate when he asks her, “D’y’wanna come in?”

She nods, and it sets his chest aflame. They straighten up, untanglin’ themselves from one another even as she leans into his side, not wantin’ t’be too far. Clyde’s hands shake as he unlocks the front door but he doesn’ care if she sees. He wants her to see, wants her to know what she’s doin’ t’him. Maybe then...maybe she won’t leave.

Clyde flicks on the lights, closin’ the door behind both of ‘em. He watches as Juniper assesses his things: his clumsily cleaned living area, the small kitchenette that was (thankfully) decluttered. The hallway leads back to the bathroom, and then his bedroom, but Clyde doesn’ dare look towards it, much less lead her that way. Instead, he steps towards the fridge, hand reachin’ out to brush against the door.

“Want anythin’ t’drink?” He asks, voice quiet, as if nervous to disturb the silence. Juniper shoots him a smile, shakin’ her head as she perches on the couch.

“No, I’m okay, thank you.”

Clyde nods, lingerin’ there even though he doesn’ want a drink neither. Her eyes look him over, amusement showin’ in them.

“Why don’t you c’mere? If you want, of course.”

He wants. Oh, how he wants. So he goes, movin’ across the distance between them in three long strides until he can sit himself next to her. He’s stock straight, heart thrummin’ in his chest; his nice button-down feels all tight against his skin, too itchy. He thinks only her touch’ll soothe it, but doesn’ wanna ask her. Juniper, however, reads his mind; she always can. She smoothes a hand over his jean-clad thigh, leanin’ in ever so slowly, like she’s gonna startle him if she moves too fast. Clyde’s breath catches in his throat as she kisses him again, and it's heaven, it's heaven.

It’s different from in the car, from on the porch. This time there’s more purpose to it. Juniper’s kissin’ him—tastin’ him— like he belongs to her, and Clyde thinks maybe it's because she knows he does. He’s tryna’ angle his body just right, tryin’ t’lean down without puttin’ a crick in his neck. Not that he’d care much, if he did--a crick was worth this, worth the feelin’ of her tongue brushin’ against his bottom lip, against his teeth.

Juniper makes a frustrated little noise, pullin’ back, and Clyde’s brows furrow in confusion.

“Wha--Wha’s--?” He stammers out, flesh hand flexin’ on her waist, the silky fabric of her dress feelin’ so soft and cool against his skin. Juniper’s lips are plush and kiss bitten; Clyde tries to take a picture of ‘em in his memory, eyes trained on their pretty color. He almost misses her question. Scratch that, he does miss her question; has to very ineloquently say “huh?” to get her to repeat it. She ducks her head, voice shy.

“Can I, uh--get in your lap?”

Shit. Shit. Clyde nearly feels dizzy for all the blood rushin’ down south. It makes him a little self-conscious; she’s not gonna want t’sit on his lap and have his cock pressin’ into her all demandin’ like. But damn, his little Junebug looks so eager, her eyes darker than he’s ever seen ‘em, and like he’d said: he wants. So he just nods, barely breathin’.

Juniper shifts, pushin’ him into the back of the couch and he goes easily, willingly. She hikes her dress up her legs and Clyde gets a barely there peek of dark green lace before she’s straddlin’ his lap. He moans, can’t fuckin’ help it, and Juniper dives in to capture the sound with her mouth. Her hands are on his face, in his hair, fingers rubbin’ the shells of his ears—he’s surrounded, he’s drownin’, suffocatin’. He’s never felt so alive.

His own hands are placed chastely on either one of her hips, though he knows his flesh hand must be grippin’ her somethin’ fierce. The thought flashes in his mind, of him leavin’ little fingerprint shaped bruises on her skin for her to feel the next day. It makes him shiver underneath her.

Juniper takes and takes, and Clyde lets her. Clyde wants to be taken, in whatever way she’ll have him. Suddenly she’s pullin’ away just enough to suck in a little air, lips still brushin’ against his. He presses his long nose into the soft skin of her cheek, breath hot between them. When Juniper speaks, her voice is strained.

“Touch me, Clyde. Please.”

He doesn’ hesitate. His good hand moves from her hip to her ass, grabbin’, kneadin’ as he pulls her tighter against him. She lets out the prettiest noise Clyde thinks he’s ever heard, and his lips find her neck as his other arm comes around to hold her close. God, she tastes so good; her perfume fills his head until he feels dizzy with it.

She's pressed flush to him like this, grindin’ her hips against his. Clyde’s hard and leakin’ in his brand new jeans and the only thing he can think of is hearin’ her little noises again. Her hands are back in his hair, pullin’ at it, sweepin’ it away from his face so he doesn’ get tangled in it as his mouth makes a hot path down the neckline of her dress.

It feels so damn good that Clyde doesn’ realize she’s tryin’ to get his attention until she yanks on his tresses, his scalp burnin’ from it. Honestly he thinks he groans, rough and wild in his throat, the pain shootin’ straight to his cock. But it makes him look at her, and she holds him from divin’ back into her skin.

“Clyde I wanna—I wanna taste you. Is that okay? Can I?”

Lord Almighty above. That should be his line, it really should. But how can he argue with her? He’d give her anythin’ she wanted, anythin’. And she wanted—wanted to put her mouth on him. Clyde spares a thought for all the trimmed and proper men he’s seen in porn, how much nicer they looked, how Juniper deserved the best. West coast mean surely didn’ look the way he did. But then,“Yes,” he’s sayin’, voice ragged, “yes.”

And she’s slippin’ out of his lap onto the floor between his legs. Clyde’s heart pinches, and he leans forward to pick her right back up. To say “oh, darlin’, y’don’ need to be on the hard floor like that. Lemme stand an’ you c’n sit right back on these here pillows.” But before he can get his legs under him she's pressin’ her face between ‘em, nuzzlin’ into the scratchy fabric of his jeans, right up against his cock. Clyde’s brain short circuits.

“Been wantin’ this.” Juniper murmurs, small hands workin’ at his belt, and Clyde arches his hips up, tryin’ t’help her get his jeans off. He can’t believe this—can’t believe this is happenin’. She tugs his jeans and pants down his legs, just enough that his cock is revealed. Clyde clumsily unbuttons the first couple buttons at the bottom of his shirt, not wantin’ to get the new fabric messy. Juniper seems to like his idea; she sighs and leans forward to press her lips to the bare skin of his stomach.

“Sweetheart.” Clyde whispers, voice all trembly. He stretches out a little, givin’ her more access to his pale abdomen. Her lips are so soft against his skin, against the dark trail of hair leadin’ down, down, down. She follows it, nosin’ to the crook of his thigh, teeth scrapin’ deliciously ‘fore she turns her attention to his cock—already plump and stiff, and very interested in her ministrations. She wraps a hand around it and Clyde’s breath catches in his throat. She studies his cock, gives it a gentle stroke, thumb rubbin’ at the velvety head.

“You’re so big.” Her voice is quiet, but it startles Clyde all the same—he’s been transfixed by the vision in front of him.

“O-Oh, I-m, uh—“

He’s attemptin’ to apologize—his first instinct, really. But his brain isn’t really functionin’ all that well, and then she’s leanin’ in to lave her tongue over his slit. Clyde groans, a sound comin’ deep from his chest as he zeros in on the pretty pink of her soft, wet tongue. Juniper hums as if she’s pleased, a little smile on her face, and then she’s slippin’ her mouth over his cock in earnest.

Clyde’s head drops back against the couch pillow, lungs strugglin’ to suck in air. Oh fuck, oh fuck, fuck—it felt so good. She was gorgeous, she was perfect, she was a fucking angel doin’ this for him. She couldn’ take all of him into her mouth but goddamn she was tryin’. It didn’ matter—even if she wasn’ usin’ her hand to make up the difference, Clyde thinks he could cum just from seein’ her there between his legs, her silky soft lips on his skin.

He moves with her—not in a way where he’s pushin’ her or askin’ for more, but in a way where she’s pullin’ him; she’s the ebb and flow of the tide and he follows her willingly. His back arches, toes curlin’ up in his boots; his prosthetic settles on top of her free hand where it was grippin’ one of his large thighs. His other hand is too busy grippin’ the couch cushions to do much else. He’s lost to it—to her—an’ he doesn’ wanna be found.

It’s over far too quickly, embarrassingly so—it even surprises him. He’s ridin’ the high of his pleasure and his orgasm hits him so hard and fast that Clyde barely has any time t’warn her. All he can do is make a frantic noise, her name garbled in his throat as he quickly tries to push her off a’ him. But it’s too late—he’s cummin’ the same time that she’s pullin’ away, and Clyde can only watch in an odd mix of both arousal and horror as his cum paints her chin, neck, and cleavage.

Juniper’s mouth is held open in a surprised little ‘o’ shape, brows arched, and Clyde feels fuckin’ humiliated.

“J-Juniper, darlin’, m’so sorry, I—“ He scrabbles behind him for the throw blanket layin’ across the back of the couch, tuggin’ it into his lap so he can clean his mess off a’ her skin. He’s quick to tend to the spend on her cleavage first, hyperaware of how close it was to the fabric of her pretty black dress. “I’m sorry, I tried t’warn ya but it was too—“

“Clyde, it’s okay.” Her voice is all raspy and Clyde bites back a moan at the sound of it. She was so fuckin’ sexy, fuckin’ flawless. He’d cum all over her, messy and wild, and she was still lookin’ at him like he’d hung the damn moon. She pulls herself to standin’, and Clyde’s gaze dips down to where her knees were all red from kneelin’. Just another thing he didn’ know he found hot until now.

“But I guess it’s a little dangerous to keep this on, huh?”

His gaze snaps up to her face when she speaks, and she’s wearin’ a grin, eyes alight. Then she’s twistin’ her arms around, wrigglin’ out of that cute little dress until it graces the linoleum floor. She bends down to pick it up, drapin’ it carefully over one of the kitchen chairs. She moves like it’s nothin; like the sight of her in her heels and underwear ain’ makin’ his cock try to thicken up again.

“Yer so beautiful.” He tells her, gaze trained on her as she walks back over to him. Clyde feels so small with her standin’ in front of him; feels vulnerable even if he was still mostly dressed. Juniper steps out of her heels slowly, placin’ them to the side before leanin’ in, restin’ her hands on the back of the couch on either side of his head so she can kiss him.

Clyde runs his flesh hand over her bare waist, down the swell of her hip, toyin’ with the band of her underwear. He doesn’t push it down; he won’t without her permission. It’s enough to kiss her like this, soft and lazy, feelin’ her skin underneath his. He feels all gooey and happy from his orgasm, even if it had come sooner than he’d have liked.

He sighs into her mouth, content; chases her lips when she pulls away. Juniper starts to work on the buttons of his shirt, and he sits up to help her ease it off a’ his shoulders. She folds it neatly, settin’ it to the side; Clyde forces himself to speak, tryin’ to get his brain back in workin’ order. “D’y’wanna—wanna go back to the bedroom? You c’n lay down and I’ll—I’ll take care a’ ya.”

He thinks he sounds all awkward and silly, but Juniper gives him a warm smile, and his insecurities fade. She was always comfortin’ him, whether she knew it or not. She places one last lingerin’ kiss to his lips before noddin’ at him. “I’d like that.”

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