Hi Z, for tonic tuesday, lately I’ve been thinking soft and slightly angsty thots about Clyde. Like do you ever wonder what if he met reader who is from a bigger city, but who very much enjoys being with him and the small town life, but initially Clyde might wonder if reader would want something “more”, fancier places, fancier clothes, fancier everything, without realizing RC doesn’t care about all that. Like maybe reader’s family or old friends visit and they are very different—a bit snobbish even—and Clyde wonders if those are the people and world reader belongs in, but reader reassures him that he is perfect and enough and he is the only one RC wants. I dunno if that makes any sense haha. In short, the big bear needs a hug and smooches. 🥺 K 🦊
Kitsune, darling! It makes complete sense. And big bear always deserves hugs and smooches <3 This is brief in nature, but please accept these Clyde thots.
They still don’t understand, they couldn’t—why you’d leave the swanky job in the big city, why you’d give up the nightlife and the friends and the international airport.
You still don’t understand quite why you decided to take your rental car on a drive that lonely night on a work trip to Charleston, or how you ended up at a little backwoods bar in Boone County.
But you understand exactly what kept you there: the bartender. It wasn’t just his gentle drawl, his large frame, his dark amber eyes, no—it was his heart. That kindness that warmed up your heart hotter than a shot of bourbon. He’d said it was bad luck to drink alone, but you couldn’t feel luckier to have found him here. You’d kissed him soft and slow in the cool West Virginia night, loathe to leave after such a short time together.
“It’s a long drive back to Charleston, darlin’,” he’d whispered, eyes full of yearning.
“And it’s so late,” you’d replied, lips centimeters from his. “Maybe it’s best to drive back in the morning…”
But you never did.
You’ve made a life here for yourself, a home… something the big city never felt like to you.
Clyde gulps, adjusting his button-down nervously. It’s the first time he’s meetin’ em—your big city friends.
“What if they don’t like me?” His lips fix into a plump pout, worry spreading across his face.
“They’ll love you just as much as I do, sweetheart,” you soothe, running your hands over his chest.
“I just—” he sighs, studying the ceiling, “—I just don’t have much to show for folks like them. Got the bar, got the trailer, the garden. That’s it. Reckon I don’t have much for you, either, darlin’... Gotcha stuck out here in the middle’a nowhere, nothin’ fancy to do…”
“Hey,” you say sternly, cupping his face in your hands. “Don’t you ever think that about me, Clyde Logan. I’m exactly where I want to be. I’m with my big bear. You give me things my old life never could.”
“Like what?” he mumbles, unconvinced.
You crush your lips to his, channeling every bit of love you have for him into your kiss.
Pulling away, you smile. “You gave me our little family.”