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celtic-crossbow · 28 days

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Blood Ties Chapter 30

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Somewhat graphic depictions of afterbirth; Breastfeeding; Newborn bodily functions; Scars and allusions to past child abuse.

A/N: Fuck me sideways, I have struggled to write since all this shit in my personal life. This chapter is pretty boring but I guess there are some fluffy aspects. And Thumper gets a name.

The tiny creature that had just been shrieking in Hershel’s grasp, was now rooting around angrily while you studied every perfect little inch of her. Her skin was pink beneath the drying, waxy mess of vernix caseosa—or whatever Hershel had called it—and blood. The old man had said if he had to guess, he would put her at about six pounds. Hilarious since she felt like she weighed thirty while you carried her.

Her round little face scrunched up before she wailed again, disturbed from her meal-seeking venture by Carol leaning around Daryl to drape a blanket over her. When you looked up to smile at him, you found the archer studying his baby like he wasn’t quite certain about something.

“What is it?” You asked, moving the blanket a little so he could see her better.

“S’just—” He reached toward the bundle but withdrew. “Feels like—feels like she ain’t real.” You could see the tears brimming on his waterline, crystal droplets shining beneath the pale yellow illuminance of the van’s interior overhead light; how he would squint instead of blink in an attempt to keep them from falling.

“Daryl, you—ow.” You placed your hand on your lower abdomen, finding it tight within a cramp even if the skin itself was slightly looser.

“Ow?” Daryl appeared panicked but was desperately trying to keep himself together. He wasn’t doing a very good job. It was so odd to see him constantly grappling for control over his emotions when he had always—for the time you’d known him—been so careful not to allow too much to show.

The veterinarian checked the cord to find it no longer pulsing. The contractions you were having now were mild cramps compared to before, Hershel advising you that you would need to give up your hold on Thumper to deliver the afterbirth. The archer watched as you handed off Thumper to Maggie. You wondered if he even realized why you hadn’t given him a chance to hold his daughter yet. Regardless, it was immediately apparent he hadn’t been listening in the slightest—

“Just an easy push, Y/N.”

“Wait! What?!” Daryl shouted. Meanwhile, you were clenching your fists and bearing down. It wasn’t the worst pain but considering you had just pushed a tiny human out of the same opening, you were a tad bit sore.

“Good, good. I can see it. One more push.”

Daryl’s hand wrapped around one of your fists. You uncurled your fingers and let his slip between them. “See what?! The fuck she pushin’ again for?” The archer gave no time for anyone to answer that particular question before he was crawling and leaning above the space between your knees—just in time for the placenta to exit your body while you groaned through the discomfort. “What the flyin’ blue fuck s’that?!”

“It’s alright, son.”

“It’s okay, Daryl.” Carol repeated.

The archer had gone white again, swaying slightly and swallowing convulsively while scooting back toward you on his ass. You tugged gently on his hand before anyone else could interfere. “Hey, tough guy. Look at her.” God, you were exhausted but keeping your partner grounded was your priority. He had a baby to meet. Daryl’s eyes shifted to you and then behind you to the infant over which Maggie was currently gushing.

“She’s perfect.” The elder Greene daughter chuckled through her own tears.

The hunter stared at Thumper, the color slowly returning to his skin. “Rick!” He belted out suddenly. “We clear?”

“All clear for now.” The former deputy called back, even though there was little more than five feet separating them.

“Good. Stop.”

“Stop?” Rick glanced back over his shoulder, once and then again. “Shouldn’t we—”

“Stop the van.” This time Daryl barked the command, growing irritated. He gently extricated his hand from yours, moved toward the door, and wrapped his fingers around the handle. It was obvious he was waiting for the vehicle to come to a halt.

“Daryl, what the hell are you doing?” You queried while trying to divide your attention between him and Thumper being placed back against your skin. The baby began to squeak, working up to another bout of shrill cries before you shifted her, trying your hand at offering up a breast without any guidance. When her tiny mouth latched onto your nipple immediately, you felt a tugging sensation, but no pain like you had actually expected.

“You’re a natural!” Carol exclaimed through her own tears and sniffles.

Before you could offer comfort while the other woman was obviously distraught—likely reminiscing of the times just after the birth of Sophia—the van jolted to a stop and Daryl was opening the door, jumping out with his bag and crossbow, and closing it before you could say a word.

“What’s happening?” You sat up just a little, your eyes wide. “Where’s he going? Rick?”

“Stay still. Relax.” Maggie cooed, dragging a finger tenderly down Thumper’s cheek. “Let her nurse. I’m sure Daryl’s got his reasons.” You nodded even though you weren’t truly satisfied with the answer. You were just simply too exhausted to think about it any further. Carol started handing Maggie blankets to roll up behind you. “We’re gonna getcha all cleaned up and as comfortable as we can until we can find somewhere safer, okay?”

“Just wrap this up until Daryl gets back.” Hershel spoke softly, placing a bloody blob of something onto a large piece of cloth before handing it to Carol. The sac was connected to Thumper by the slimy cord.

“Do you think he’ll want to?” The other woman whispered. Sight and sound were starting to fizzle out. Your body was demanding rest, all reserves depleted. Thumper was suckling away, making the sweetest little snorting breaths between gulps. Maggie was wiping the sweat from your face and neck, sweeping the fabric back and forth over every inch of skin she could reach.

Hershel and Carol worked together to clean up the mess between your legs, the area swollen and sore and thank god you were so exhausted or that would have really hurt. When you opened your eyes again, you were covered with a blanket and Thumper was gone from your chest.

“Thumps?!” You bolted upright, caught halfway by Hershel’s gentle hands on your shoulders.

“She’s fine. You were quite out of it when she finished. Maggie tried to burp her but breastfed newborns don’t always need it. Now she’s there with Carol, getting cleaned up the best we can without warm water. The vernix caseosa can stay on her skin until she can have a good warm bath. It won’t do any harm. We just thought she could do without the other fluids.”

You nodded tiredly. “How long did I sleep?”

“Only about half an hour.” Carol answered, shuffling on her knees with the baby in her arms. “Rick grabbed the diapers from the truck and checked on everyone. She’s such a tiny thing, the newborn size almost swallows her.” She pulled the blanket away to place the baby against your skin and then covered her again with the small receiving blanket. Once Thumper settled, Carol pulled the thicker blanket over both of you.

You felt your expression light up—casting shadows over your exhaustion—at the sight of that little face. God, she was tiny. The lack of blood revealed wisps of blonde hair, still molded flat in some places by the waxy covering. You could already see so much of Daryl in her that it—

“Where’s Daryl?”

As if summoned by his name on your lips, the van door opened to reveal the archer, clearly shivering. He tossed his bag and crossbow to the side and climbed in, rubbing his hands up and down his sleeved arms. He was clean, his hair wet while the strands appeared damn near frozen. His dirty clothing—vest and poncho included—was missing, likely in his pack.

“Daryl Dixon, are you trying to end up with pneumonia again?!” Carol admonished. She shoved his bag out of the way quickly and tossed the last larger blanket around his shoulders.

“C-c-couldn’a held ‘er like I w-w-was, right?” His teeth legitimately chattered, his gaze leaving Carol to look you over. “D-doin’ alright?”

You narrowed your eyes above the ghost of a smile. “Did you really go find a body of water to take a bath in the middle of winter?”

“W-wouldn’a left ya but w-was d-d-dirty. Wanted t-to—wanna hold ‘er.” Once again, he was pale as milk but there was some color slowly seeping into his cheeks. Hershel wasn’t freaking out over his current state, so—contrary to the pressure threatening to choke you from the inside—you wouldn’t either. Daryl ran his tongue over colorless lips and ducked his head. “If that’s alr-right?”

Your mouth fell open, your brow furrowing while you blinked at him. Did he just— “Daryl, she’s your daughter. Of course you can hold her.” You were already moving an arm from beneath Thumper’s miniscule weight. When your hand found his, you pulled back with a hiss. “Maybe just get a little warmer first though, okay?” The archer nodded, but he still looked so uncertain.

Hershel cleared his throat. He had remained still and silent throughout the exchange but then slowly crept down to sit on his knees at your hip. “In the meantime.” With a gesture toward Carol, he held out his hands. The cloth-clad placenta was placed onto his palms. It had apparently just been traveling around with Thumper wherever she roamed within the van. “Would you like to cut the cord, son?”

Still shivering but teeth no longer clicking together, Daryl’s expression molded into equal parts disgust and confusion. “The hell would I wanna do that?”

“It’s a tradition.” The old man explained. Carol was busy cleaning her knife with some rubbing alcohol. “It marks the start of life outside of the mother, when the father can begin to be physically involved in caring for the baby.”

The hunter brought his left thumb to his mouth, chewing on the side, granting a physical form to his inner anxiety. “Don’t it hurt ‘er?” You were curious as well, and you looked away from your partner to await the answer.

“There are no nerves in the cord. She won’t feel a thing.”

Daryl drew back when Carol presented him with the knife. He looked to you. You shrugged a shoulder, careful not to jar Thumper. “It’s your decision.”

“Must be done. It doesn’t matter if it’s you or myself.” Hershel added.

Lowering his hand from his teeth, Daryl eyed the knife. It was clear that he didn’t believe he wasn’t going to hurt his daughter. His thumb was replaced by his lower lip, jaw inching back and forth to gnaw at it earnestly. Without a word, he reached for the knife. Carol offered him a smile that he unsurprisingly didn’t return.

“Where do—how does it—”

“I’ll help you.” The veterinarian reassured, balancing the organ on top of one hand while the other lifted the cord. “Right between the tape.”

“Don’t that leave some’a it?” Daryl’s throat was visibly working as he swallowed.

“That will dry up and fall off. I’ll show you both how to care for it until that happens.”

The exhale was audible, undoubtedly something he didn’t intend but also didn’t take notice. Daryl’s hand was shaking, the blade carefully pressed to slice upward and away from the skin of your newborn. You held your breath, afraid any movement or sound would cause her to stir. If Daryl accidentally nicked her, there’d be no consoling him.

The cut was clean and quick, Thumper remaining sound asleep throughout. Your head tipped back against your pillow of blankets, relief flooding through you in a tingling wave that left you once again feeling wrung out. Half an hour was not enough. You wanted to sleep for days.

Turning your head was a chore, but worth it. Daryl was ignoring everything that was happening below the two of you, his eyes dancing between you and his daughter. “I know.” You whispered. His gaze found yours. “She’s finally here.” He nodded, his lips slightly parted with words he couldn’t seem to articulate. “It’s a lot, Daryl. I know. It’s okay.”

He was trembling, but you were certain it was no longer from the cold. His entire world had just changed. He was a father, and—judging by the look on his face, the turmoil in his pretty eyes—he was terrified.

“Do you wanna hold her?” Your question was met with a sharp inhale, his spine straightening.

“I—”

You were already shifting the baby, shushing and cooing when she squeaked and stretched in protest.

“You should bond with her too, Daryl.” Carol was sitting against the interior wall, looking her own personal sort of tired. “If you feel comfortable, um—” She turned her head to look away entirely, staring at the opposite wall. “You should let her lay against your skin.”

Bless him, he looked as though he might hyperventilate. “What if—she might—don’t wanna scare ‘er.” Daryl stared at Thumper, her little head moving back and forth as you offered her to him. You wouldn’t tell him the baby was too little to be scared. That would only leave him wondering if she’d be afraid of him later, when she was older. He was so convinced that his scars would make his daughter fear him.

That anger you had felt before, the inferno of rage that had boiled beneath your ribs—it was back. Had they been still alive, you would strangle those people that had hurt him, scarred him so deeply. Beyond physical. But they were dead. And you were there. You would do your damnedest to show him a different perspective. That he was good and not a product of his father’s anger or his mother’s absence. That he was loved.

“She isn’t afraid and she won’t be, not of you.” You vowed, pulling Thumper in against your own chest once more. With a hand then free, you raised the blanket and slid over with a grunt. The pain wasn’t horrible but you were definitely sore. “Get under here with me first.”

Maybe one day, he would be beyond the urge to hide that part of himself. Until then, however, you were more than content to help him find any measure of comfort you could offer.

Daryl hesitated, giving you a quick once over. “Won’t hurtcha?”

You smiled, small and tired but genuine. “No. Now get under here. Don’t make me drag you while holding a newborn. You know I can do it.” You challenged playfully. Maybe you could lighten the atmosphere. With a pfft, he took the blanket from your hand and shed the one around his shoulders, his eyes darting over to Hershel and Carol. They had knowingly turned their backs. You almost wished they would leave but having someone knowledgeable there was a comfort you weren’t ready to be without. You had no idea what you were doing. Once he was settled, you did your best to pull up the blanket until he took over. “Unbutton your shirt?”

“Dunno if—”

“She already loves you, Daryl. You were the one to calm her down when she was river dancing on my intestines. Just—try?” He sighed, his fingers slowly working open the buttons before stalling. “If you’re too uncomfortable with it, we’ll fix it, okay? I’ll take her and then you can put her on top of your shirt.”

The deep breath he took trembled but he continued until he could part his shirt enough for his chest to be visible. Even with only your eyes on him, he began to exhibit obvious anxiety.

“It’s only me.” You whispered while maneuvering Thumper. He could actually hold her later, when there weren’t four of you cramped up in the back of an old van with stow-and-go seats.

The man looked like he was two seconds from sliding out from beneath the blanket and bolting—until the moment the baby’s skin finally touched his own. His wide eyes drained of any trace of fear to make room for awe.

“Holy fuck.”

Watching him closely, those two words were meant to be part of the internal monologue he had going on inside his head. His calloused hands had never looked so gentle, laying across Thumper’s back. He immediately lifted one and placed the other there instead with the previous palm resting on her little diapered bottom.

“She s’posed to be this small?” His voice cracked. You turned onto your side, slowly and stiffly, while he silently let his gaze wander over to watch you move. Wiggling to find a comfortable position, you settled with your head on his shoulder and your fingertips brushing repeatedly over Thumper’s head.

“Hershel said she probably weighs around six pounds.”

“S’that okay?” His thumb was swiping back and forth through the slightly darker blonde hair on the back of the baby’s head.

“She’s perfect.”

“Yeah.” He agreed, quietly. His head was tilted, angled to be able to see the little face of the human he helped create. “I, uh—thank you.” You lifted your head to stare him down, quiet yet questioning. “Y’know—for her.”

Your expression softened. Your hand lifted from Thumper to Daryl’s chin, guiding his head to turn. Stifling the grunt of discomfort that moving caused, you shimmied up just enough to press your lips to his. It was chaste but no less passionate.

“None of that for at least six weeks. Minimum.” Hershel chided from the back of the van.

Daryl huffed in annoyance, only slightly turning away to bark out “the hell’s ‘er mouth got to do with anythin’?” You laughed in spite of yourself, the action jarring and uncomfortable.

Hershel even chuckled. “I mean no further, son. No intercourse. She needs to heal.”

Damnit. You knew at that very moment, it would take you twelve weeks to coerce Daryl into actual sex. God, if your vagina wasn’t ruined after pushing out a whole human. Oh well, you’d be fine as long as he was still yours. You blinked, eyes glazed and thoughts wandering. He would still want you, right?

“Gotta make things weird, old man? Christ.”

Shaking your head, you pushed those worries aside for later. He was now warm and you had your personal space heater back. You molded yourself to his side and willed your body to relax. Daryl was there. Your little family was safe. Sleep laid its claim on you within moments.

“Claire?” You suggested. Your hand alternated between rubbing and patting the back of the frustrated infant on your shoulder, coaxing out a burp that vibrated your collarbone. Don’t always need it, indeed. While Daryl sat across from you on the bed, rubbing the length of his left index finger across his lips, you adjusted Thumper to the opposite breast. Her little fists were flailing, her face scrunched up and red. The little squeaks and grunts were aplenty as she worked herself up to a squalling cry. “Ssh, here, Thumps.” The moment your nipple rubbed against her cheek, the baby rooted for it eagerly, latching on and suckling with gusto.

“When she scrunches ‘er face like that, she looks like Merle.” Daryl snorted. His expression didn’t show it but his eyes held a distinct shimmer of sadness.

“Wanna name her Merle? Merlene? Marleen?” You almost cackled at the look he pulled. “Okay, okay. I said Claire, grumpy gills.”

“Nah.” He sniffed and briefly glanced toward the window. You could hear the van and truck rolling in, hopefully with more supplies. “Makes me think’a that ear piercin’ place in all the malls.”

You thought about people that you had lost. Maybe you could honor them this way. “Andrea?” Daryl snorted.

“She gonna shoot me when she gets older?” He took a deep breath and balanced his chin on his right palm, elbow pressed into his thigh. “Don’t really feel like she should be a Andrea.”

“Patricia?” You pressed on, stroking Thumper’s cheek with a fingertip. “We could call her Patty?”

“No.”

Your aunt maybe. “My aunt’s name was—actually, no. Nevermind.” This time, it was you that snorted. Daryl shook his head before he turned it back to the window. Thumper had released your nipple, even as her little mouth continued to try and suckle. “Can you burp her while I get all—” you gestured broadly toward your entire self.

“Sure.” He slid off the mattress and leaned down to take his daughter, so carefully maneuvering her against the front of his shoulder. You kept your sights on him as he moved toward the window, offering the baby a little sunlight.

You and Daryl slept in the van until the current safe house had been found. No one even woke the archer to help clear it. Probably because Thumps was still lying on his chest. Carol had been the one to wake the two of you, sending you into the bedroom while she heated as much water as she could for you to properly clean up and then to give the baby a warm bath. Daryl held your daughter while you wiped her down. There was a fire burning in the living room and though you could feel the house slowly warming, neither of you wanted to take any risks. You removed the little knit hat from her head and took care in wiping away the remaining film over her skin. Patting her dry, you replaced the hat and moved on. Each area was bared, cleaned, and covered. You couldn’t help but smile when the archer looked away while you removed the diaper. You made it all the way to her feet before she woke up properly and started trying to suckle Daryl’s thumb. “Barkin’ up the wrong tree, lil’ one. Gonna hafta talk to your mama if you’re hungry.”

And now here you were, tucking away your tits into a nursing bra while your partner rubbed the back of your perfect daughter by a sunlit window. Thumper was in a light blue sleeper onesie and wrapped in a pink blanket— littered with little birds—to make sure she stayed warm.

You didn’t hear her burp but had no doubt that she did if he was taking her from his shoulder to the crook of his right arm. From your vantage point you couldn’t see much but you could tell Daryl was talking to her.

While daddy and daughter were occupied, you laid back on the bed and stretched tired muscles. Your abdomen was still swollen but soft. It was your lady bits that were hot and sore. Forget taking a piss. You had nearly screeched when Daryl had accompanied you earlier, leaving Thumper with Carol. You were bleeding but thank god, Carol had warned you and handed you a couple of pads before you headed out the door. You hadn’t thought anything of it until you were standing over where you had urinated and it looked like a murder scene.

“Jesus, it’s Nightmare on Elm St in my underwear.” You said as you rounded the tree. Daryl looked unamused. “Ya gotta be so—graphic? Good lord.”

“Need to hunt soon.” Daryl spoke suddenly from the window. You sat back up with a wince just as he made his way back to you.

“We have a lot of canned stuff. You don’t need to—”

“Doc said ya need protein to keep makin’ milk for her.”

You didn’t want him to go anywhere. Logically, you knew it made sense. He was the only other hunter besides yourself. Canned veggies wouldn’t do much towards milk production and of course Daryl had asked about it already. Hershel had been pleased that Thumper was appearing satisfied with the colostrum you were producing, but she would need more even within just the next few days.

“When?” You tracked him as he lowered to the edge of the mattress just in front of you. The baby’s little hand was curled around his middle finger and you weren’t sure he cared about anything else enough to divert his attention away from his newborn. “Daryl.” You chuckled.

“Yeah?” He still wasn’t paying attention.

“Purple because aliens don’t wear hats.”

“Mhm.” Had he ever been this distracted? You called his name again amidst a laugh, each syllable bouncing. Finally, he looked up. Straight ahead first, as if forgetting where you were sitting. Then it was over to you. “You say somethin’?”

“Welcome back.”

He mocked a laugh and then deadpanned. “Funny girl.”

Your smile remained steadfast. “When are you going out to hunt?”

“Thought I’d leave in the mornin’. Y’know, stick ‘round to help ya tonight an’ make sure ya both’re all good ‘fore I go. Try to bring back all I can so that—” His mouth was still open, but the words stopped altogether. His brow drew inward. “Think this diaper’s toast.”

Oh god.

The first diaper change.

“Should I get Carol?” You asked in earnest. You had never changed a diaper before and Daryl had never indicated he had any experience either. Still, he shook his head.

“Gotta learn sometime, right? Between the two’a us, how hard can it be?”

The answer: really fucking hard.

“Daryl, you have to look!”

“Don’t feel right to see ‘er—areas.”

“You’re her father and you’re trying to change her. It’s fine. You’re gonna get it all over your hands if you don’t look.”

“S’it s’posed to be that color?”

“How the hell should I know? Can you hand me the wipes?”

“What wipes?”

“You didn’t grab the wipes?”

“No?”

“Was that a question?”

“No?”

“Daryl.”

“Y/N.”

“Get the wipes.”

Twenty minutes later, Thumper was snoozing comfortably on the mattress, wrapped snugly in her blanket without a care in the world. You and Daryl, however, were staring at the small creature, appearing every bit as though you were trapped in the flashbacks of war.

“I don’t think it’s supposed to take that long.” You finally commented.

“Walker guts don’t even look like that.” Daryl’s voice was just as quiet and monotonous as your own.

“It didn’t even smell. Shouldn’t it smell bad?”

“You’re complainin’?”

“Touché.”

When Carol knocked, your heads moved in unison, two sets of wide, troubled eyes landing on the woman in the doorway. Her eyebrows shot upward, lowering slowly as she took in the scene: you and Daryl cross-legged on the mattress. Thumper just a few inches away. Wipes and a rolled up diaper on the floor below the foot of the bed. Her hand flew to her mouth, pressing against it to smother the chuckle that tried so hard to break free.

“You two okay?” She finally asked, clearing her throat.

“We look okay?” Daryl rasped.

She struggled against laughter again. “You look like two first time parents discovering one of the joys of a newborn.”

“We need help.” You were practically pleading, feeling horrible to ask it of the woman who had lost her only child. Daryl’s expression was just as desperate even if he would never grant it a voice.

“Okay, let’s go over the basics.” Carol shook her head fondly and closed the door behind her.

Several feedings and diaper changes later, Thumper was asleep between you and Daryl. Night had stolen the sun and a candle burned on the bedside table behind you. She was so far a quiet baby, only crying when she was hungry and would squeak and grunt when her diaper was soiled.

“Expressing herself in grunts and other noncommittal sounds. She’s totally your kid.” You teased. “Shuddup.”

Daryl’s hand was on the baby’s stomach, likely just as much for his benefit as hers. He was dozing, making a valiant effort to stay awake with little success. You were just as tired but you couldn’t seem to coerce your eyes away from your partner and daughter. Daryl had been so attentive and tender with you while you carried Thumper but seeing him physically interact with her was an entirely different experience.

Once again, it was likely something he would internalize but he was absolutely in love. That little thing lying between the two of you had already stolen his whole heart. If you had any doubt of his desire and ability to be her dad,—which you didn’t—that would be long gone now.

When you weren’t nursing her, she was with Daryl. He talked to her in hushed whispers like sharing secrets he’d never speak to another living soul. And she slept or stared at him while he stared right back. She had the bluest of eyes but Carol said they might not remain that way.

You hoped they did.

When she looked at you, you could feel her curiosity and adoration. You were her mother and she knew. She knew your voice, your touch. She knew Daryl. Carol said Thumper could only see in shapes and shades of gray, but you didn’t believe that. Not for a second. They way she would stare at Daryl, her little fingers squeezing the edge of her pink bird blanket. No, you didn’t believe that.

“Think I gotta name for ‘er.” Daryl spoke suddenly, words rough off his tongue, laced with exhaustion. You smiled.

“Oh yeah?” You wondered if he was even awake or aware of what he was saying. His eyelids were heavy, flickering open every few seconds.

“Yeah. S’okay if ya don’t like it. Don’t really make no sense.”

You laughed within a breath, reaching to brush the hair off his forehead. When he didn’t speak for a moment, you found yourself too curious to let it go. “Are you gonna tell me?”

He took a deep breath, eyes still closed, with an mhm during the exhale. His index finger was gently rubbing back and forth over Thumper’s little hand while she had it fisted into her blanket.

You almost moved your hand to his shoulder to shake him awake, but refrained. He was—like you—exhausted, and within that state, he was emotionally vulnerable. You almost felt as if you were taking advantage of that, but there was a realization that you wanted him to name her. So, you would wait. Let him sleep or listen when he was ready to tell you.

“Birdie.” He finally breathed. Without opening his eyes, he moved his finger to tap one of the birds on the blanket. “Birdie Jade.”

You felt the wet tickle of a tear running across the bridge of your nose and wiped it away before it could sting your other eye. Sniffling, you ran your fingers through the hair above Daryl’s ear. His eyes finally opened, clear and sharp, watching, waiting for your reaction.

You pulled back your hand and laid it on top of his, over the baby’s blanket.

“Hi, Birdie.”

#murda writes #blood ties #daryl dixon #the walking dead #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon x you #twd daryl dixon #the walking dead daryl dixon #daryl dixon twd #daryl dixon the walking dead #daryl x female reader #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl dixon angst #daryl dixon fluff #daryl dixon smut #daddy!daryl

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tenpintsof-sundrop · 4 months

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Everybody is like "imagine how sore you'd be after prison Reid" and like yeah, I get that but consider also:

I can't stop thinking about being in a long term relationship with Reid when he goes to Prison and then when he gets out, the second he sees you again, he just needs his Mommy.

Being locked up for those months where (somehow) the most horrible, chaotic, and out of control days of his life, and the moment he is back in your arms, he feels himself slipping back into that far away, fuzzy headspace again because he needs this. He hasn't felt truly safe in months - not while sleeping, not while eating, not with his back turned to any of the people around him, and when he's in your arms, he feels truly safe.

He has always felt so safe with you in control of every aspect of his life, ruling over him, making sure that absolutely no harm comes to him, and ensuring that above all - he is gifted the most heightened pleasure.

So in spite of people still being around, his beloved friends, celebrating his release, he mumbles that word into your neck:

"Mommy."

And you know exactly what he needs.

You haul him aside, make sure to take him somewhere private, lock the door - and then you're on him.

You're kissing his gorgeous mouth, absorbing all those whines, telling him what a perfect boy he is - praising him so hard because you know he hasn't heard enough of it since he's been gone. And before you get your hands on his belt, you undo your bra underneath your shirt and shove the fabric of your top under your armpits, giving him access to his favorite part of you.

Baby Spence loves your breasts.

If he weren't in that fuzzy headspace right now, he would go on at large about how the simulation of breastfeeding is a healthy form of bonding and mimicry of childhood experiences is an easy way to establish safety and trust between partners - safety and trust which, if otherwise not gained, can lead to disruption and rifts within the relationship.

But at current, he had his mouthful, swallowing up your areola, echoing more needy whines around it - and he absolutely was not discussing anything as you undid the fly of his pants and got your hand around his cock.

You knew exactly what your baby needed. And you were going to give it to him.

#sundrop speaks #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #sub!spencer #sub!spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you

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f10werfae · 11 months

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Daddy’s babies

pairing: Lumberjack!Henry x shy!mom!reader

summary: Daddy!Henry takes his babies to Disneyland and engages in some soft kissy sex with his baby bun (Dilf!Henry) (softdom!Henry)

likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated/Disclaimer 18+

Lumberjack Masterlist, Henry Masterlist

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

“P-please daddy, we want to g-go, don’t we lovebugs?” Y/n cooed sitting on the floor of their living, her baby girl Iris nursing soundly on her breast, the soft suckling sounds and baby gurgles filling the room. Henry sitting behind her, his fingers playing with the loose straps of her vest, peeking over at the sight of his baby princess so close to her momma, his baby boy Beau sat on his boppy across from them; clearly milk drunk from his feeding.

Y/n had spent the past few days begging and begging her husband for a trip to Disneyworld, wanting nothing more than to take hundreds of pictures of her tiny tots in their costumes, buying them all sorts of souvenirs and of course the family costumes. Henry would be lying if he said his attention was fully on her words right now, all he could think of was how huge her breasts had grown these past few months from breastfeeding. God almighty it took him an arm and a leg to keep from squeezing them like a stress ball, even being caught by Y/n herself.

“Sugar butt, they won’t even remember goin’ there, Beau over there doesn’t even remember who I am half the time” Henry chuckled looking to meet his wife’s eyes as she huffed and scooted out of his hold, shuffling over to her baby boy who was near enough asleep after being burped. “F-fine then, you don’t care about us” She whimpered giving him those big doe eyes of hers, even turning around her baby Iris, who she had now given a pacifier to. Her cute little mouth bopping up and down as she suckled on the Disney themed dummy, her big eyes she got from her momma staring right at her daddy. Henry swore his heart clenched right when he saw his baby princess looking at him.

“Y’all n’ your damn eyes, fine”

“H-hen look at the baby c-cots they’re old west themed!” Y/n giggled holding baby Iris to her hip whilst Henry carried Beau on his, sliding in the suitcases with his free arm. “Is it everythin’ ya wanted sugar cube?” He hummed finally locking the hotel room, his arm coming around her waist to bring his daughter and wife closer to his warm broad chest.

“W-we love it, it’s so cute and reminds me of our house” Y/n smiled tilting her head up to press a small wet kiss onto her man’s lips, both babies also reaching for each other cutely, they were absolutely inseparable so thankfully the cots were right by each other. Seeing both of their eyes start to lid, their small voices cooing tiredly, it only seemed right that they put their tots down for the night after a long day of driving and gas stops.

“C’mon over ‘ere momma, ya need your sleep n’ so does daddy” Henry whispered tugging on his wife’s belt loop, pulling her against his chest as they looked over their beautiful miracle gems. “Missed you today ya know” Inhaling her soft fresh scent deeply, he slowly waddled them both towards their huge king size saloon themed bed. “Y-you were with me the w-whole day though” Y/n laughed as Henry softly set her on the sheets, already tugging off her denim flares and black polo crop top. His smile widening as he saw all the new stretch marks she had gained, evidence she had carried their family, their baby gems; a proof of their love.

“Doesn’t fuckin’ matter, didn’t have your sweet pussy wrapped around my cock or anythin”

“A-and you still can’t, t-this is a family friendly zone” Y/n scolded shimmying herself up the bed only for her to be dragged down by Henry’s hand on her ankles, her puffy pussy coincidentally coming face to face with his eager lips. “We can worry about the family friendliness tomorrow, right now it’s me n’ my gorgeous wife. Think she misses my kissies no? As long as you’re quite n’ don’t wake up the monsters then it’s okay bun”

Slowly peppering small onto her second set of lips, his tongue coaxed through her folds to taste her sweet self; baby bun’s little gasps and stifled moans reverberating through their bodies. “M’already close H-hen, kissy t-too good” Y/n whined knowing how sensitive she was, both emotionally and physically after the journey of a pregnancy she had. “I know you are sweet pea, go on, give your man his treasure”

Within seconds her body was writhing in his hold, her hand over her mouth to make sure she wasn’t being too loud, Henry’s hands clamped around her waist as he slurped up all of her juices. “Y-your turn?” She breathed out sitting up on her elbows, “No baby bun, we can do that another time, time for you to get some sleep” He smiled crawling up on her to kiss her lips softly, with a twinge of tongue just to hear her hum in pleasure.

“You sure?”

“Hundred, now turn over n’ let me spoon my sugar cube”

Both of them now nude under the covers, Henry’s hands skimmed up over her sides and curves, moving up to cup her breasts strongly; hoping to teasingly coax some of her milk out but he knew she’d have been emptied out just from the twins on the road trip. “You did so good today momma, took care of our gems so well you know that? My precious baby bun such a good woman, my woman”

“I L-love you so much H-henry, you’re such a good daddy to t-the babies”

“I love you too Y/n, swear my life on it”

Throughout the night Henry slowly and gently humped his hardened cock against his sleepy wife, hearing her whine and groan until he finally released all over her bare ass, letting her shift back against him before finally drifting off for the rest of the night.

“a-aren’t you two just f-freaking adorable, m-my little chip a-and lumiere” With the two tots propped up on some pillows, in their chip and lumiere costumes from beauty and the beast, Y/n in her pretty yellow dress as Belle and Henry in a blue suit as the beast. The perfect fairytale family in Henry’s words.

“H-Henry get in beside them, now please” Picking up each 8 month old onto each knee, Henry smiled with his canine smile into the phone, both babies showing their gummy smiles in their tiny costumes like the absolute cuties they were. The perfect mix of Henry and his Y/n. “Ok now go put it on a timer n’ get in here sugar butt”

“mhm comin’” Setting up her phone against the table she ran over and perched herself behind Henry, her arms coming around his neck from behind, her red painted lips planted onto his cheek. “Should we get ‘em into the pram and get goin to fantasyland? Get you your well needed pictures n’ souvenirs” Nodding excitedly they strapped both twins into the two seater pram, their costumes thankfully suited to the hot summer weather, with Henry pushing the pram protectively as Y/n linked her arms with his.

“I-isn’t it just magical? Oh wait! We need to g-get them pictures w-with Mickey Hen” Redirecting the stroller to the queue for Mickey, the couple stood in line in each other’s arms, “you alright ma? You look absolutely gorgeous” Swaying their bodies side to side, Henry felt her giggle and laugh against him, twisting her head to the side to press a sweet kiss to his neck. “Y-you’re only sayin’ that cause i-im dressed like Belle”

“Nah no way, I prefer you naked than in a dress and ya know that baby bun” Chuckling they finally moved to the picture spot, with Iris in Y/n’s arms and Beau in Henry’s, each twin cooing happily with their sun hats on with the white sunscreen making their face look painted.

“Baby bun, I- I have a proposition, you can say no if you want but”

“b-but what?” Y/n asked tilting her bead to the side like a happy little puppy, taking off her costume after the long day, Iris and Beau already tucked into their sleep snuggies and in their respective wooden bassinets.

“This is out of the blue, but my uh my mother’s here, she’s seen somethin’ about us bein’ here and she wants to meet Iris and Beau. Well- actually take them off our hands for a few hours to give us some time”

“W-what like now? I-i’ve only met her a few times a-and that was before I was pregnant”

“I know that’s why I wanted to ask you first, we’re a team baby bun, you say no then thats fine, you tell me what you want sugar” Nuzzling his head against hers he felt her exhale before raising her head, that same soft kind look in her eyes.

“I grew up a-always loving my grandparents, I-i’d hate to rob I-Iris and Beau of that. Your m-mother’s lovely, I-I just wish we saw her more often so she k-knew them more” Y/n explained nodding her head with each word, showing that she completely trusted Henry’s mother, she knew how attentive she was with her other grandchildren and she didn’t doubt her for a second with Iris and Beau. Although this would also mean this would be the first time she would be away from her babies for more than an hour, already feeling the dreaded mother’s guilt.

With it already being 5PM and time for dinner a rhythmic knock sounded throughout the room, the newly awoken babies’ eyes curiously looking around the room, their hands wandering in the air frantically. “It’s her sugar, you ready for me to open the door?” Nodding Y/n stood up, wiping her sweaty palms onto her skirt, watching on as Henry’s mother gleefully walked into the room. A pair of purple mickey ears on her head as she instantly reached for Y/n, bringing her in for a hug and an affectionate kiss to the cheek.

“My beautiful daughter in law, you’ve only gotten more beautiful, how I wonder how my son met got you” Henry scoffed muttering a ‘thanks mom’ watching his mother then turn her attention to the two cuties surrounded by pillows on the bed, the both of them looking at her happily almost as if they could feel the love radiating off their grandmother.

“Oh my word, is this my little ittle Iris and Beau, my two precious grandbabies, they are the carbon copy of you Y/n, thank God nothin' like Henry. With that scowl always on his face" Marianne whispered tickling their little stomachs, quickly taking out the mini mickey ears she had gotten just for them, a pink and blue sequinned set.

“Aww t-thank you, t-though I’m thankful they g-got the cleft chin from H-henry” Y/n laughed seeing Henry pick up Beau and Iris, letting her have her fair share of snuggles of each baby Cavill, the newest additions so far to the family. “Ma are ya sure you’re able to handle these two little monsters, they can be quite a handful but we’ve already packed everythin’ ya need in this baby bag” Buckling them into their stroller, Henry tucked the baby bag into the underneath of the stroller, his mother excitedly clapping and exclaiming how excited she was to spend the next few dinner hours with her grandchildren.

“Henry boy, av’ raised 5 boys I think I can handle two more angels, especially if they’re like Y/n”

“Well most of the time they are, curious little things really, but deprive ‘em of the booby milk and it gets scary” Henry laughed as Y/n scolded him, hugging his mother one last time as she brought the babies to her hotel room, deciding the easiest option was to order in room service since all they had was simple baby foods and milk.

Meanwhile Y/n had a new feeling in her stomach, a feeling of guilt for simply letting her “newborn” babies go despite them edging the ninth month. Her goosebumps wouldn’t let down, her legs shaking as Henry shuffled around the room to prepare a hot warm bath for them both, a well deserved one at that. “Baby bun ya ready to come in n’ join me?” Henry called in from the tall ceiling bathroom, waiting eagerly to watch his nude wife in all her glory.

“a-am coming now” She called seeing her husband engulfed in a multitude of purple and pink bath bubbled, his hand outstretched to help her into the tub. His hand tightly wrapped around her wrist as she sat between his legs, the water sloshing once she sat back against his snug wide chest. “What’s goin up in that pretty mind o’ yours beautiful, you look busied”

“D-Do you think i-it’s bad that I let t-the babies go w-with your mom so easily? I f-feel guilty for being away from them for so l-long”

“what? Is that what you’ve been tinkerin’ about? You’re the best wife n’ mother on the goddamn planet, the way you pour your love and affection into everythin’ you do, no one could ask anything more from you. You’re absolutely perfect baby bun, my little sugar cube is the best” Henry whispered against her ear, his voice growling towards the end as his lips attached to her neck and shoulders, kissing it passionately while her head rolled back onto his shoulder. His strong burly arms wrapped around her midsection, one of his hands sneaking up to circle her nipples with his finger, eyes staring as he watched them harden.

“Y-you really think so?” Bun replied looking up at him, her doubting thoughts quickly dissolving once he pecked her nose adorably, each of her breasts in one of his hands. “I know so, now sit your pretty little self back n’ let daddy take care of everythin’ alright momma?”

Settling herself back comfortably basking in his radiating body heat, his hands reaching under the water to touch her sensitive clit, his soft hoarse voice hushing her anytime she let out anything louder than a squeal.

“This ok baby?”

“mhm f-feels so freakin’ good” Henry’s lips stayed pressed to her temple as his palm rubbed on her clit, his ring and middle finger already teasing her hole with soft pillowy thrusts, just enough for her hips to thrust themselves upwards clearly wanting more. “I can feel you gettin’ close bunbun, ya wanna finish here or in the bedroom, or both?”

“B-both?”

That was all the confirmation Henry needed for his fingers to thrust his fingers in frantically, her sensitive nub consistently making contact with his palm to bring her to finish, his other free hand that was holding her up was now holding her jaw to turn her head towards him. His lips pursing onto hers, to suck her tongue into his mouth, tasting her cherry lipstick. “God I love kissin these lips of yours, so beautiful n’ sexy”

Not even letting her reply as her orgasm washed over her, his finger repeatedly fucking her entrance while his other hand now reached down to rub her clit like a feral beast, her body shaking crazily as she rode out her high. “Aww my pretty sugar butt, you always get me so fuckin’ hard whenever you look at me like that”

His thumb brushed under her lips, her eyes looking dazed and happy as she happily nuzzled back up straight to sit closer to him.

“This okay? Or do you want it tied up as well?” Turning off the hairdryer, Henry continued to softly brush through bun’s hair as best as possible, trying to alleviate her head of worries about their babies (even though his mother just sent them a picture of them suckling on their pre-made bottles)

“I-I want it in-in a braid” Nodding Henry got the strands of hair ready, looking at her lovingly through the mirror, her eyes closed peacefully with her wearing nothing but one of his white vests. Taking his time to get the braid perfect he tied it off with a little tie and carried her up to the top of the bed, pulling back the covers to help her get settled in before he slid in beside her.

This would be their first night without the babies’ interruption.

“You wanna jus’ go to bed sugar? or-“

“No. I-I want this” Confidently she reached down and started stroking his hardened cock which was already laying against her thighs, biting her lip she shuffled forward to hook one arm around his neck as he took some of his precum and used it to lube up her pussy, small gasps leaving her at the erotic act. None of them speaking any words but the amount of love and passion in their eyes was obvious, her tits popping out from the sides of his vest as it was clearly ten sizes too big.

“Just gonna take it slow with you sweetpea, make love with ya until my pretty sugar falls asleep”

With her arms now wrapped around his torso, her head directly above his heart, Henry slipped in his cock into her warm wet pussy, both of them gasping out at the amazing sensation. “So soft n’ warm” He whispered kissing her pouty lips passionately, their tongues meeting in a wet kiss as both their hips rolled against each other. Henry’s hand lifted up her thigh to place it over his waist, his fingers tracing over the stretch marks now littering her thighs and lower stomach, even her breasts. Henry couldn’t even put into words just how much it made her look like an absolute Goddess that gave him his two precious miracles.

“D-don’t touch ‘em”

“Why not bun? They’re proof of the amazing journey you took for our family, and they look so fuckin’ sexy” Henry rebutted shutting her up with a sharp thrust which sent her mewling back into his chest, her palms flat on his back as his slow rhythmic thrusts helped her reach her orgasm quicker, each throw of his hips hitting another angle of her G-spot.

“S-sleepy Henry”

“You take all the rest you need baby, take what you need my pretty girl” He whispered pecking her lips thrice more, his hips still softly rolling against hers even after they had finished, the wet sloshy sounds of their juices filling the room as Y/n found herself falling asleep with her husband’s cock inside of her.

———

PSA: Lumberjack!Henry is back!! Meet his lovely momma who raised this beast, although he definitely got his possessive attitude from his dad who we are yet to meet, and his brothers. Hope you guys enjoy this Disneyland snippet 🫶

library blog: @f10werfaes-cosy-collection

Taglist: @helenaellie @pandaxnienke @thereisa8ella @kimhtoo17 @beck07990 @dumb-fawkin-bitch @madebylilly @kebabgirl67 @marvelgurl @uwiuwi @stormcloudss @girl-of-multi-fandoms @misshale21 @hallecarey1 @nikkitc0703 @mischiefsemimanaged @oliviah-25 @aerangi @alina02 @alexxavicry @hp-hogwartsexpress @angelmather1 @acornacre @ggmimitf @thebaileybugle @thoughtsofreid @theekyliepage @cookielovesbook-akie @elenavampire21 @hoya122 @rosiesluv7 @yaminax @esposadomd @meyocoko @disaster-rose @severewobblerlightdragon @kemillyfreitas @adoreyouusugar @buckybarnessweetheart @sweetybuzz25 @k3ira13 @shecamedowninabubble @ridingthehotmessexpress @animez96 @angelic-dreams13 @squishyturtle @keenduckfury @mxnnana-blog @namjoons-t1ddied @frittelligliegia @realm-of-azrael @lina505 @marvelloki23 @livesinfantasyland @slut4henrycavill @luxeydior

See you guys at the next update, lots of love 🫶🫶

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netherfeildren · 8 months

Text

My Whole Life : A Fear of God Story

(Joel Miller x OFC)

Series Masterlist

Summary: The family celebrates Joel's birthday.

Content Warnings: Fluff and smut (like the fluffiest fluff ever); Miller Family Fun; Joel being overrun by wild little girls; Dirty old man & inappropriate groping; Established relationship; Joel Miller is a Wife Guy; Competence kink; Breastfeeding; Lactation kink; Oral sex (M! & F! receiving); Come eating; Pregnancy kink; Size difference; Daddy kink; Possessive behavior; PIV sex; Ass play; Romantic anal :) ; Body worship; Dirty talk; Pussy slapping; Over stimulation

Rating: Explicit 18+

A/N: Happy happy happy birthday to our bestest and most beautiful old man. This might just be some of the most ridiculous shit I’ve ever written, and it’s all for him :)

Word Count: 9.8K

Read on AO3

MY WHOLE LIFE

And you’ll always love me, won’t you?

Yes.

And the rain won’t make a difference?

No.

Ernest Hemingway, A Farewell To Arms

He’s still asleep. Laying on his side, bent elbow tucked beneath his smushed cheek, messy curls strewn across his pillow, overly long and floppy against his forehead. It’s time for a haircut, but he’s been distracted and busy lately, evading your managing fingers and scissors. The quilt is pulled up high over a thick shoulder, and that soft, full mouth is slightly parted, the near silent whistle of his breathing passing through each exhale. You close your eyes and listen for a moment. When you open again, you reach up to run the tip of your finger along the damp edge, and he puckers his lips slightly, mouthing at your exploration. Ah, awake then. You lean forward to press your mouth to his briefly, taking his breath into yourself.

Tell me you love me, you whisper the words onto his tongue.

“I love you, Birdie,” voice like falling stones; graveled, sluicing into your ears, eternally familiar. An everyday thing that’s a small miracle each time it’s whispered into the small shell.

“Happy Birthday, Joel.” And he finally opens his eyes, long lashes squeezing tight and spiky for a second before he blinks open, bleary with sleep. His half smile unfolds for you, slow and lazy, the lines around his eyes going deep and grooved, and your fingertips skim over the whiskered plane of his cheek, feeling the proof of his happiness around his eyes. Pulling his hand from beneath his cheek he reaches for you, skims the back of his hand down the front of your belly, undoing the buttons of his old, worn to softness flannel as he goes. Backs of his knuckles following again, skimming down the soft swell, dipping into your navel, and then sneaking around your waist to pull you into himself. Belly to belly he sighs deep and rumbly, closes his eyes again, nods his head just a smidge, settling back into the pillow. “Thank you, sweetheart.”

You know that if he could skip this day every year, he would. Sleep through the whole thing of it, erase it from history. You know that it’s endlessly painful, eternally terrible, and that even after almost three decades it never hurts any less. Five years now, you’ve been married, and you’ve tried to make every year as special as possible. Not necessarily peaceful, an unachievable thing in a house full of four loud and scrambling little girls, but always special, always infused with as much happiness as you can give him.

The sallow purple light from early dawn seeps in through the sheer blue curtains over the wide bay window of your bedroom, and as he presses you to him, the course hair of his chest and belly rubs against the skin of your own stomach, your overly sensitive breasts, full and extra tender from nursing. You’d made his gift extra special last year, your last baby, little Connie, now nearing six months old.

“Another one?”

“Well, baby, that’s what happens when your husband can’t keep his dick in his pants.”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he sighs, head falling back on his neck as he runs his palm over his mouth, two fingers tucked into his belt. Dad pose.

“We’re getting a nanny, Joel. Someone to help us – you go out there and find anyone, I don’t care who. There’s too many of them, we’re being overtaken. And we can’t keep asking Ellie and Dina – they’ve got JJ now, they’re busy too. You’ve saddled us with a whole kindergarten here because you can’t seem to stop getting me pregnant,” voice hitching with equal measures of anxiety and happiness, and an overabundance of hormones and love.

He sidles up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist to hug you tight to his chest, one of his hands coming up to squeeze your full, heavy breasts gently, you gasp, extra sensitive already. He coos right into the soft shell of your ear, “Poor Birdie. S’just so fun makin’ ‘em baby. Can’t help myself.”

You roll your eyes at him even though he can’t see, and you kind of want to claw at his face and rip all his clothes off, all at the same time. This is all his fault. All of your sense gone out the window, can’t get pregnant while you’re breastfeeding, as if you didn’t know better. Too desperate for your husband to be more careful. And now look at the two of you…

Your ass perks up, grinds back into his already growing erection, fucking beautiful, he murmurs with his forehead resting on your shoulder to look down at you, palming your ass. His hands sweep over you in an arc, skimming the soft dips and contours of your skin.

Then shyly, head tuning over your shoulder to press your temple to his forehead, “Are you happy?” Because you still just need to make sure, you still just need to hear it.

“You’ve never given me the option to be anything else but, my love.”

He’d gotten up in the middle of the night when he’d heard her fussing, bringing the baby to you still half asleep, cuddling her tiny, pink form against his naked chest, so that you could nurse her back to sleep. He’d sat at the edge of the bed, big hand cupped at the back of your skull as he’d looked down on you feeding his child from your breast, the look in his eyes like nothing you’d ever imagined before him. The birth of your children had infused a sense of tenderness, an intimacy so acute it brought tears to your eyes if you thought about it too much, into your relationship that had made the two of you closer than ever. More in love with each other than you’d ever thought possible.

The memory of your parents was worn and faded with time, but you remembered they’d always approached each other with a sort of comfortable respect. Never ones for overt displays of affection or physical intimacy. So you’d never expected that the love of a man like Joel Miller, stoic and reserved and brusque, could be like this; an overwhelming sort of thing, scalding and suffocating in a way you needed.

His hand skims back to your chest, undoing the rest of your buttons to get at the warmth of your breasts, rough palm gently, gently cupping the full weight. The dry abrasion of calluses catching at your sensitive nipples, handling you with such care. A low rumble in his throat, eyes still closed, “Gimme another kiss, little bird. It’s my birthday,” he whispers before sliding forward, taking your mouth with his. He starts off slow, a soft brush of damp lips, before he takes your upper lip between his, pulling gently, his hand moving back and down now, cupping your lush bottom to pull you up and into himself. Your hands flutter over his chest, still after all this time, easily overwhelmed by the heat and feel of him. You never want it to end, you never want it to lessen.

The sex is still filthy, but everything else is pure.

You can feel the hardening heft of his cock under his boxers between the two of you, and you skim your hand down the length of his soft belly, fingers tucking beneath the elastic to run the backs of your knuckles against the burning hot skin there, feel the tickle of his hair. He makes another one of those deep sounds, warm and masculine and smelling faintly musky from sleep, and you bring your knee up against his hip, pushing further into his boxers to feel the rapidly thickening base of his cock against the back of your hand, you brush the pad of your thumb there and his kiss becomes hungrier. Bringing his palm to the nape of your neck he rolls the two of you over suddenly, trying to take charge, licking deep and wet into your mouth, pressing his now full-on erection into your cupping palm. “Taste so good, Birdie. Is my little cunt wet and ready for me?”

“Joel–” you whisper, drawing your hand up to his shoulder to try and keep him at bay. His wet mouth moves down to your throat, cupping your breasts, pinching your nipples, settling more heavily between your spread thighs to grind his cock into your warmth. “We can’t,” you moan as his hot mouth pulls gently at your tit now, nipples dark and swollen. It’s been several hours since you’d nursed, and you feel the warmth of your milk as his tongue swirls around you. He groans, rough and hungry at the taste, bringing his knee up to lever himself over you, readying to rip your clothes off and take your cunt for himself, but as he moves to balance himself on one arm and knee while his other hand reaches for your panties, you press him off balance, dislodging him and rolling over as he goes, so that you’re left straddling the wide breadth of him. His eyes flash, provoked, and he jerks you forward, ripping the flannel off your shoulders so that your breasts are left bare and swinging heavily. With a rough grunt he bends his knees, shoving you up further on his stomach to wrap a big hand around your tit and bring it to his mouth. Mine, he growls, with your flesh in his mouth. He pulls on the taut peak again, another warm rush of your milk, his eyes locked on yours as he sucks from your nipple. It should be wrong, maybe it is, but like you’d said, the sex is still filthy, everything else is pure.

“We can’t,” you whisper, carding your fingers through the long locks of his messy curls, the strands cool and soft at the ends, but hot and damp at the roots. You can feel your pulse thrumming at your throat, the insides of your wrists, the back of your knees. The slide of your wet cunt against his abdomen has the heat between the both of you ricocheting up to a sweltering dampness, and despite your protests, you moan as his hands roll you against him. “They’ll be up soon and banging on that door, you know it. Ellie and Dina can only hold them off for so long.” The girls had spent the night, not only so they could be here for birthday breakfast, but so that the two of you could spend a few extra peaceful moments in bed without three raucous monsters climbing in with you.

“Don’t care – need you now.” He levers his head up off the pillow, following the swing of your breast until he can catch it with his mouth, teeth gently scraping across the bud. Joel, you whimper, lashes fluttering against your cheeks. He makes a self satisfied noise low in his throat, crushing you to himself and sucking hard on your skin, pulling a strangled moan from your throat. Trying to pull away, grabbing his marauding hands, you try to pin him down with your entire weight, small fingers clasping around the thick of his wrists and pressing them back into the pillows. The two of you pause to take each other in for a second, I love you, he mouths up at you, silent, eyes on fire. You can’t help the deep flush, trying to swallow your smile and shake your head at him in mock disapproval, pinning him harder. “That isn’t gonna work, little thing. Got the strength of a butterfly.”

“Shut up.” You lean forward, pressing your mouth to the thick bulge of his bicep, dragging your teeth across the swell. “You’re mine – I do what I want.” He gives you a soft, conceding laugh, and you press kisses along his shoulder, across his collarbone, letting the long tresses of your hair snake like water over his face, his chest, his stomach. Scooting down his belly to nuzzle at the springy hair covering his chest, little tongue darting out against his nipple, smiling at the sound of his soft gasp. Further, further down, kisses to his soft belly, thicker around the middle now, sympathy weight, he calls it. But he’s so strong, and so endless, and you need him so much. You wiggle between his legs, forcing him to spread his thick thighs to make space for you and nip at the sensitive inner slope there. Nuzzling his hairy limbs, you pause to look up at him, cheek resting there, feeling the restrained strength of his muscles. The two of you go quiet for a second, taking each other in, and there’s so much said in his gaze. He brings his hand to the crown of your head, cupping the small bowl of your skull in his palm, and smiles a little, a teasing crook of his eyebrow, and you can’t help but laugh, turning your face to hide your own smile in his thigh.

“What’cha gonna do, baby?” Hmm, he croons down at you, sliding his fingers through your hair. You sneak your fingers below the waistband of his boxers again, tugging them down to free the straining, thick cock and heavy balls. You press a barely there kiss to the skin just beside the base and watch as his length jumps, flushed head starting to leak. You give him another wry look, and he runs his fingers along the line of your jaw, up the slope of your cheek bone, hot touch following the wing of your brow. It’s all soft caresses and the sort of comfort that only comes from knowing another person almost better than you know yourself. You finally bend down and press a kiss at the tip, opening your mouth to let your tongue flutter along the soft, spongey curve. He lets out a long, restrained breath through his nostrils, fingers still roaming along your face, through your hair as you start to take him deeper into your mouth, levering yourself up over his groin so that he has a better view of your breasts and hair dragging over his thighs. A desperate groan, and you smile around his cock, you know him too well. You drag the flat of your tongue along the ridged base, a swirl around the fat head, his hand cupped at the nape of your neck. You can feel the pulse and throb of him against your tongue, and you moan around him, fluttering lashes tickling your cheeks, you want to feel that pulse at the core of you, deep where he owns you. “Yeah, baby,” voice soft and strained, trying to swallow the sound of his own pleasure in the hollow quiet of your still sleeping home. “Hum a little song around daddy’s cock, little bird.” And your eyes flash hot and desperate up to his own. A wash of heat spreads from the crown of your head to the tips of your curling toes, backs of your knees smarting, pussy going tight and desperate as a knot. You wrap both hands around the length of him and focus your suctioning mouth at the head, moaning wantonly, twisting your palms around the slick spit left by your tongue.

“Fuck, yes – yes, yes yes. That’s perfect, you’re doing so good, Birdie. Just like that.” He bears his teeth at you, a wash of color spreading across the crests of his cheekbones and the bridge of his nose. You slide your slick hands down to cup his balls and take him to the back of your throat, moaning ragged and choked around the too thick length, swallowing repeatedly, trying to breathe through your nose, eyes smarting and thighs clenching. His fingers twist in your hair painfully, and he swells almost impossibly bigger in your mouth. “Fuck, I’m gonna come. I’m gonna come, baby. Don’t swallow, don’t swallow.” He hasn’t stopped looking at you, eyes wide and frenzied. You pull back, squeezing his sack as he starts to spurt, thick and salty into your mouth. “Don’t swallow, lemme see. Gimme my birthday present, show me–” You pull away from his soaked cock, mouth sticky with semen, and present your tongue for him, the milky viscousness dripping sloppy while you continue to jack his still spitting length. He sits up suddenly, cock still fisted in your working hand to grip your jaw in his strong fingers. His eyes are filled with a sort of mania only you know how to bring out in him now that he’s been mostly tamed, and you bring your other hand up to your face, scooping the spurted drops of come on your cheeks onto your white splattered tongue. “Perfect fucking thing,” he growls. “You do what I say,” he gives your captured jaw a rough, little jostle. “Swallow now.” You close your mouth and obey, “Open again – lemme see,” sticking your now pink tongue out at him, he leans forward and licks into you, tasting himself. Filthy, filthy, filthy. I fucking love you, you can’t tell who says it, it doesn’t really matter.

The farmhouse is a short ways outside of Jackson. He’d picked it after Lena was born, Kate and Clara had been two, and Connie would soon be on the way. The family needed more space, four children was a lot to manage, and he wanted his girls to have room to grow and play. You’d let him do as he pleased, and made the trek into the clinic every afternoon at first, but had taken on a partner two years ago, Jamie. She’d come to Jackson with her own medical background, and with four babies at home, the help was more than welcome.

The house is old, but made of strong bones that Joel had painstakingly refurbished and now cared for meticulously. Filled with sturdy furniture he’d mostly made by hand, thick rugs and soft glowing lamps and books, books everywhere. And something else, something unknowable and invisible, but that was immediately obvious, nonetheless. A sort of love that was in such overabundance; it was an unbelievable sort of thing that a creature that had lived as he had could have ended up here, surrounded by all this goodness. Joel knows it is only because of you, all only your doing, his ending up here like this.

As you step into the large dining and living space you stop abruptly, his chest bumping into your back, hands going to your hips to steady you. Your head cocks slowly to the side as you take in the new addition to the kitchen. “What’s that?”

He presses his face into the warm, fragrant skin of your neck, smiling against the tender slope. “Made it for you.” It’s a kitchen table, long and thickly built, the warm oak color polished and cured to a glowing sheen. He’d snuck it in from the barn last night after you’d gone to sleep.

“It’s your birthday, you’re not supposed to be giving me gifts today.” He wraps his arms around your middle, his hand spanning across the soft swell of your postpartum belly. The change your carrying his children had wrought on your body was something that he’d not known would have such an effect of him. But the sight of you most days, wearing nothing but one of his oversized flannels, and his favorite itty bitty, pink, polka dotted panties. Swollen, leaking tits and the lush softness of your belly and hips underneath. Long hair, a tousled mess of a cloud around your head. Too fucking tempting. It brought out something not entirely civilized in him. How was he ever supposed to behave when you were prancing around your home together, surrounded by all your children, being the best mother the world had ever seen. Sometimes the urge to get you pregnant just one more time was almost irresistible. Soft and feminine and his, it did things to him, made him think unspeakable thoughts that he later acted out on you in explicit detail at night, in the privacy of your bedroom. Things had changed after the birth of your children, he had changed, in so many ways, in ways that Joel had never even thought possible. The intimacy, the closeness was something that he’d never even thought possible, something so vulnerable, so tender, his mind hadn’t had the capacity before this to imagine it. He’d never thought, never thought that he could love with an intensity like this, but you’d taught him so many things over the years. You taught him something new every single day.

“It’s for me too,” he murmurs. “And giving you things makes me happy. Seein’ you happy makes me happy. This is my gift to myself.”

You’re quiet for a second, and he feels you tense and hiccup beneath his touch, trying not to cry. Finally, when you’re sure your voice won’t break, “Don’t be cheesy, old man.” But you turn in his arms, going up on your little toes to press your mouth to his, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck. He sighs into the kiss, tasting you slowly, savoring you, feels himself thickening again already, just at the feel and smell of you. When he pulls back to look down at you, sure enough, your eyes are wet and gleaming, a soft flush across your nose. “Thank you, I love it,” A small sniffle.

“Get in there,” he says gently. “Stop provokin’ me.” He gives your bottom a gentle squeeze before letting go.

After he helps you get the girls up and settled, he goes on a long walk with Ellie and Kate, leaving you and Dina to hold down the fort for a while. Sydney, panting along Kate’s gangly, coltish side as they lope ahead of him and Ellie. The old Newfoundland had shown up one day on the front porch, mud and bramble slewn, Kate and Clara had brought her in, told them her name was Sydney, and that had been it, the dog had stayed. The hound, covered in a nearly unmanageable chocolate brown mane, had what he called an old disposition, much like him, Birdie liked to tease, but gentle and slow. The perfect animal to patiently accompany the girls along their misadventures, but large and astute enough to herd and protect when necessary. They liked to wander sometimes, disappearing at any moment, hiding and jumping out to scare the two of you in your frantic searches for them. Trouble the two of them, Kate and Clara together. Clara especially, mind sharp as a whip and an inclination for trouble she could have only gotten from him, if he was being honest. Kate was always the cooler, more level headed voice of the two of them, even at five, nearly six, years old. With those deep blue eyes, like shards of sea glass with the very power of the sun shining through. They’d slipped out of the house a few months ago behind his back, and after his mad search he’d found them wandering, hand in hand, towards the treeline. Short legs setting a slow and stunted pace, Sydney had been following closely at their heels, towering over the two small frames. At the sound of his approach, she’d turned back with an aggressive growl, ready to protect the two vulnerable creatures in her charge, but he’d settled her with a gentle, It’s just me, Syd, and the hound had gone tame and sedate once again. He’d trusted her with them unfailingly ever since.

They were meandering slowly along one of his and Ellie’s favorite paths now, slowly, allowing for child and dog to pause and investigate at will, dew-covered spiderwebs, bright tufts of moss and old, rotted logs covered in bugs Kate begged him to let her bring home.

“Mom gets scared. We don’t want that, do we?”

“Mom doesn’t get scared,” Kate says, scrunching her nose up at him.

“It’s secretly him that gets scared, Katie. Don’t let him fool you,” Ellie tells her. They walk for close to an hour in mostly silence, their ritual of sorts, listening to the sound of the woods around them and Kate’s soft voice going on and on at Sydney, while the dog seemingly pays the closest and most attentive regard possible. The quiet walks, something that calls back to their long journeys all those years ago, a way to remind themselves of where they’d been and what they’d come to.

“What do ya think?” She breaks the silence after they’ve turned back toward home and the breakfast waiting for them.

“‘Bout what?”

“Anything.”

He shakes his head, watching Kate’s short leap over a puddle, sighs long and deep, “Dunno – so many things. Nice walk–” He gives her a wry look out of the corner of his eye.

They reach the edge of the woods and pause to watch Kate breaking into a run towards the house, Sydney matching her pace. “I think we did good, don’t you?” He knows she means everything, all of it. Lena, three years old, bursts out of the propped open front door of the house, Dina on her heels. “We kinda made it, didn’t we?”

“Yeah, kiddo. We did good.”

“I drew you a birthday picture, Daddy,” Clara tells him.

“C’mere, my angel. Let’s see it.” Sitting around the new kitchen table, he pulls her up into his lap, Lena following suit to scramble up as well.

There are seven figures: you, drawn with long hair that reaches your feet, Kate, Clara, and Lena, respectively, what he assumes is baby Connie drawn as a miniscule figure eight at your feet, something that resembles a tumble-weed more than a dog, poor Syd, and then… someone drawn as a big circle, with an even bigger head on top. “Where’m I, baby?”

“Right there.” She points at the big, round thing, “I made him soft like you, Daddy.” And she pats his belly so affectionately, looking up at him with the biggest smile he’s ever seen, poor Syd – fuck, poor me, he thinks.

“Thanks, baby. I love it.” He squeezes her into his chest, pressing a soft kiss to the crown of her head. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees you bent over the kitchen counter trying to strangle yourself in a kitchen towel to muffle the sounds of your hysterical laughter.

After scrambled eggs and hot breads with honey and jam, bacon and fruit and coffee, perfect girl that you are, you’d somehow gotten him a tin of beans as a birthday gift, you bring out what the girls call the pancake cake. A large, wide stack of the fluffiest buttermilk pancakes, all lathered in Dina’s whipped cream, and a mountainous heaping of bright red strawberries. He watches you, a thing akin to awe in his eyes as you set the red and white cloud down in front of him, you’d put on a soft blue dress, robins egg blue, with tiny lace cap sleeves that fluttered with your movements and made his stomach dip and swoop and ache to reach out and toy with them.

“The berries were a gift,” you say with a pleased smile.

“Oh, was it Jeff?” The grocer, Dina asks. “He’s so nice.”

“Who?” Joel frowns.

“Jeff, he works at the market. He–” You pause, a laughing smile playing on your lips. “He wanted me to wish you a happy birthday, baby.” His scowl deepens, your own smile widening.

As soon as the cake’s set in front of him there’s a chubby little hand sneaking forward to stick grubby fingers into the confection. “Lena,” looking down at her, and the hand is immediately snatched back. “Oh, the candles,” you remember as you’re about to take the seat next to him.

“Left them in the back room, with the other stuff I brought,” Dina calls as you head to what’s used as a makeshift laundry room at the back of the house. He gets up quickly, a murmured, I’ll help you look, following you and flicking the door shut behind him, the echoing sound of snickers and Ellie’s hooting, mesmerized by the swish and flow of the blue fabric around your legs, and with a bone to pick.

“You’re not allowed to go to the market anymore.”

“Excuse me?”

“Take Ellie or Dina with you.” He pouts and scowls and fumes behind you as you rifle through the bags they’d brought with them.

“Excuse me?” You say again, voice soft and patient, infused with just a tinge of laughter.

“You want me to say it again?” He steps forward, fingers ghosting through the ends of your long hair, hungry, possessive. “And who gave you permission to talk to other men?” And you snicker, not taking him seriously even a little bit. He wraps his arms around you, pressing you forward to squeeze your tits in his big hands, he’s obsessed, grinding his groin into the soft round of your ass. He drags his hands over the dips and contours of your body, squeezing lush curves as he goes, reaching to wrap around the delicate architecture of your jaw and pull your face around to look at him, taking in the beautiful heart shape of your mouth.

“Joel–” you chastise.

“Five minutes.”

“Behave, they’re gonna–”

“Don’t care. It’s my birthday.” He nuzzles your hair, searching for the small shell of your ear. “Just want a kiss, Birdie bird.”

“It’s never just a kiss with you,” but you turn in his arms anyways, pressing your mouth to his, licking into him before you’ve even fully got the words out. He gropes you, sliding a knee between your thighs to press against your mound and roll you against himself. Cupping the nape of your neck, he eats at you, sliding his tongue along yours. He can hear the desperate sound of his breath rattling in his own chest, and he slides his mouth down the slope of your neck, a soft nip to the tiny pulse there. He groans low in his chest, cock hard and straining against his jeans. “They takin’ them for the night, still?” He asks panting.

“They are,” voice a whimper, fingers twisting in his hair and tugging in frustration. You push him back by the shoulders, laughing gently, as you wiggle out from between his steaming, hard body and the counter. “Come on. Ellie’s gonna give you hell.” He braces his palms against the edge, head hanging trying to will his erection down and catch his breath. Jesus, Birdie.

“Mama, why did Daddy go in there with you?” Clara’s little voice sounds as he steps back out into the kitchen behind you.

“He was helping me–”

“They were making you another baby sister,” Ellie supplies unhelpfully, big fucking grin. Joel drags his thumb across his throat, staring daggers.

“How do they do that?” Kate asks.

Ellie’s mouth opens, readying to worsen the situation, “Ellie–” Joel warns.

Dina, ever the voice of reason, tells them patiently, “They write a letter to a stork, sweet. And then nine months later, he brings a baby.”

The girls are all quiet for a beat, digesting this newfound, eternally fascinating piece of information, until Kate says, in that solemn and level headed way of hers, hands primly set at the edge of the table, “I think the stork has come to our house too many times.”

Ellie cackles uncontrollably, Bridie’s giggle following suit, until the lot of them are caught in a net of laughter. Joel lets his head fall back, thumbs tucked at his belt, letting a long sigh out. “Jesus.”

“Jesus!” A little voice yells out in imitation.

“What is a stork?”

“A bird,” Ellie provides.

“Is that why mama is Birdie? Because she makes the baby come?”

“Yeah, baby. That’s why,” You tell Kate, smoothing a gentle hand over the crown of her bright blonde head. Inquisitive little thing. With your other hand you flick Ellie in the back of the head. Mother fucker, you mouth at her affronted look.

“Father fucker,” she mouths back with a snicker.

Once the candles are securely in the cake and lit, and Clara’s added her ever helpful, Mama, we need one thousand more candles, Daddy is so old, he nudges his head at you. “Come be a good girl, and sit on my lap,” he says quietly. You perch on the strong expanse of his thigh, one arm around the back of his neck, the other coming to entwine with the fingers of his hand at your waist, twisting the gold band of his ring round and round his finger.

The girls sing Happy Birthday, Daddy, at the top of their lungs, and you watch him watch them, the clenching of his jaw, those fine little muscles that wrap around his mandible, fluttering as he grinds his back molars together, the ripple of his throat as he swallows again and again. The corners of his eyes go a little wet, tears lining the edges of those gorgeous hazel eyes as he stares into the flames of his birthday candles while the girls sing to him – off key, off harmony, so full of love. Clara clambers up onto his other knee midway through, plants herself on the endlessly strong surface of her father’s thigh, the safest place in the whole world. “Happy birthday, Daddy. I love you,” she whispers up at him, laying her little head on his shoulder, gazing at him with those same hazel green eyes that reflect his own image back at him, remind him of another little girl he’ll never stop missing, and he brings his hand up to cradle the back of her skull in his large palm, presses his lips to her forehead, love you so much, baby girl, whispered into her skin. Your first baby. His eyes fill further, and they flutter closed, trying to contain all that you know he’s feeling right now. Your hand on the back of his neck strokes softly at the overly long curls, soft and thick. You press your thumb into the notch of his skull, anchor yourself there, I’m here, I’m here, we are here together, look at all we have, and he turns to look at you, his cheek resting on your daughter's head. “Thank you,” he says, and you know that he means for all of it.

Cheering squeals, laughter, and the padding rush of little feet over the floorboards as the rest of them start to run around the table, shrieking fills the air as they scramble over him, trying to climb up as well. He buries his face in your hair and shudders as he presses a tiny kiss to the soft lobe of your ear. Look at all we have. The whole world right here at our kitchen table.

The birthday of a perfectly happy man is spent like this: a long breakfast with the woman of his dreams and all his daughters surrounding, a lazy afternoon, trying to doze on the deep, lumpy couch, intermittently interrupted by a knobby knee and a sharp little elbow to the gut or thigh, lunch and peach cream popsicles on the porch, watching the clouds, searching for shapes like treasures in the deep blue sky.

He thinks of Sarah, as he lays there surrounded by her sisters. The sweet shape of her face, the dove green of her eyes surrounded by the thickest, darkest lashes he’s still ever seen to this day, Lena’s eyes are the exact same shade, the texture of her curly hair beneath his palm. Her memory is faded now, after so long, but he works it like a muscle in his mind every day, a staunch refusal to ever let her go. And no matter how far away he moves from that day, he still asks himself sometimes: How does one grapple with the loss of something that big, something that essential? He’s lived with a hole in his heart in the shape of a little girl for so long, decades, but now, with all of this surrounding him, he also has so many things that leave his heart so full he’s almost bursting with it. The two opposing feelings often leave him feeling bloated and without space within himself, and yet, he always finds another nook or cranny for more. Even when it’s left him tired, when his remembered past hangs over his head so that he feels, sometimes, like his edges are disjointed, not glued together symmetrically, you’re there to put him back to rights.

And the memory will always be painful, it will never not hurt. It’ll never not be agony. But it’s easier now, to recall all the wonderful, all the good. Sometimes, he almost feels afraid of the intensity of this happiness, but in those moments, when that old fear returns you’re able to recognize even that, like everything else in his heart you know as well as your own, and you take him into your arms, reminding him that his whole life is right here in this house now, that you’ve saved him.

“Look at the clouds, Daddy. There’s shapes.”

Sprawled in the lush grass in front of the house, the three girls surrounding him. He presses a kiss to Lena’s soft curls, “Look at that one,” he says, “What d'ya see there?”

“A bunny,” Kate says with all the self assurance of knowing she’s the eldest sister, and thus, the wisest.

“A bunny? You sure?”

“Yes, Daddy. Don’t you see it?” Clara interjects. “He has big ears and funny whiskers just like yours.” Raucous giggles and screeches after that as they jump over and across him, with claims that he needs reminding how a bunny hops and leaps.

Eventually, when they settle, Birdie brings out more cake, leaves the four of you to sit in a huddle criss-cross-apple-sauce and discuss the woes of kindergarten at the school house in town.

“Mama told me I’m not allowed to bite,” Clara gives an exasperated huff, abandoning her cake to melt into the grass and crawl into his lap. “She bites a lot,” Kate adds. Irritated, pushing unruly curls out of her strawberry red face, “But– but I don’t like that Mama said that to me, Daddy,” she continues, looking at him very seriously, “I like to bite so much,” followed by the most conniving smile he’s ever seen, besides Ellie’s, blooming proudly across her angel sweet face. He’s forced to swallow his laugh and explain the merits of listening to her mother, something they must all do. When he turns back to look at Lena, she’s licking the spilled whipped cream out of the grass. They have to go inside for baths after that.

At Kate’s behest, they have spaghetti and meatballs for dinner that night. Tommy, Maria and their son joining the family alongside Nancy, so that the table’s chock full of the people who care about him, all coming together to celebrate one more year of Joel’s life. By the end of the meal, he has all three girls perched on his lap, eating spaghetti off of his plate because, Daddy, it just tastes so much better from yours, obviously. He’s never been able to say no to them, and he isn’t about to start tonight, and you roll your eyes, but you also look at him with that gleam that tells him that if he asked you for another baby tonight, you’d probably not say no. They eat his food and yank on his hair and stab him with pointy sharp elbows in the ribs repeatedly, at one point someone sticks their finger up his nose, pulling his nostrils apart to look inside.

“Daddy, why do you have so many hairs all over?”

“It’s so dark and scary in there, Daddy.”

Clara nods so fast her curls bounce up and down around her head, “I feel scared when I look up there,” green eyes wide.

“What are they for, Daddy?”

Questions volleyed at him so fast he doesn’t have a chance to answer a single one of them. “If you eat spaghetti, will your boogers taste like spaghetti after?” Ellie, ever brilliant and helpful, suggests they try some to verify the theory.

“What is verify?” One asks.

“And what is seery?” Another calls. Birdie’s red in the face with laughter, and Joel feels very tired and very old and very ready to take his wife to bed.

“A theory is when you think about something,” Tommy says, and gives him that look he’s wont to throw his way when he’s about to make fun of Joel for not being able to keep it in his pants and stop procreating.

“And verify is to make sure,” Joel tells them.

“What is to make sure?”

“To know something.”

Kate nods solemnly, while Clara pauses, and then says, “I don’t think I know anything.” That worried sort of look only a five year old can get when an idea is just too big, crossing her little face.

Chuckles sound around the table, “That’s alright, sweetheart. Don’t you worry about it.”

As they say good night, the girls packed and ready to spend the night at Tommy and Maria’s, Ellie and Dina taking baby Connie, Ellie pokes and prods at you.

“Would you quit, you little shit.”

“Dinner was nice, step mommy,” giving you a smarmy little smirk.

“You know, I wanted to ask you something.”

“Oh?”

“It’s serious.”

She cocks an eyebrow at you, “Spit it.”

“Well, I was wondering if you’re going through something right now? If you’re okay?”

“What? What do you mean?” Face twisted in confusion.

You snicker, pulling on the ends of her recently shorn hair, “Then what’s up with the new fuck ass little bob you’ve got going on?” She slaps you away, swatting at your arms, reaching down to get at your thighs too.

“Fuck you, mother fucker,” she laughs, trying to yank on your hair too.

“Stop it. You have to respect me. I’m your step mother, remember?”

“You’re so annoying.” You hear Joel call at the two of you to knock it off, but goes entirely ignored.

“Poor Dina’s gotta look at this mess. Let her know if she ever needs to get away from it, she can come stay here any time she likes.”

“I hate you,” she laughs, and you pull her in for a tight hug, another pinch to your side before she hugs you back.

“Tough shit, I love you.” She squeezes you tight, grumbles a little before returning the sentiment.

“Thank you,” she whispers into your shoulder, “For making him so fuckin’ happy.” You squeeze her tight as you can before she shoves you away, pretending not to sniffle and rolling her eyes at you. “Now stop being so fucking weird and sappy, and say good night to your football team.”

“Blood Meridian again?” You ask him from where you’re standing at the kitchen island, snipping the ends of the flowers Nancy had brought with her and arranging them in a vase. “How many times’ve you read that?” He’s sitting on the sofa, facing you, reading glasses sitting crooked and bent on his nose from where someone’s little foot had crushed the frames. You watch the flicker of his gaze as he peeks at the page number, and then snaps the book shut. He never uses a bookmark, always just remembers.

“Dunno–” big sigh, long stretch, “More than I can count now, I suppose.” He settles back into the couch, pushing his hips forward to slouch deep, tired, spreading his thighs wide, tempting you. You finish with the flowers, walking the vase to take center stage on the new table. At the far end of the table, right by your spot, he’s carved a tiny little sparrow into the surface of the oak. The etching so fine, so delicate, in comparison to the sight of him, big and brusque. It would be almost unbelievable to someone who didn’t know him as you do, who didn’t know the violence he’d endured to make him so gentle, someone who hadn’t watched him pull your newborn daughters from your own body, who hadn’t witnessed the incredible sight of him cradling those tiny little babies in his infinitely strong arms. You turn back to look at him over the hill of your shoulder, taking in the sight of him watching you, appraising your form. The slow rove of his eyes starting at your bare feet, moving up your legs as if his gaze was a physical manifestation of his hands on your skin, over the swell of your bottom, the slope of your spine, the fine crest of your shoulder, landing on your face. You can see his eyes moving over the planes of you, your chin, your mouth, cheeks, your eyes. He lands there, stays. You know he’ll be hard beneath his jeans when you go over to him.

“C’mere – come sit on me,” voice soft and sultry.

“Sit on you?”

“Mhmm, come tell me how much you love me.” He pats his thigh, and you move towards him slowly, shaking your head at him.

“Needy.” You reach him, hitching your knee over his lap to straddle him, and he pulls you close and tight against his warm, wide chest.

“So needy.” He nuzzles into the fine tendrils of hair over your forehead, his breath hot and soft on your skin. “Need ya so much, Birdie.” A soft kiss to your temple, another to the flared end of your eyebrow, and you squirm on his lap, hot and restless and needy also, a fine thrumming ache flaring throughout the various pressure points in your body. Your throat, the inner curves of your elbows, the backs of your knees, deep in the pit of your belly. You feel weak and trembling, and he fills his hand with your hair, bringing it to his face and rubbing the soft curls against his cheek. “It’s time I take you to bed, isn’t it?” You hum against his collarbone, taking in the scent of his skin, fresh and clove-like, cedar sap and sage and Joel, you nod slowly against him.

He runs a bath for the two of you, filling the deep clawfoot tub in the master bathroom. He’d outfitted the house from the get-go with the same system for electricity and water that Jackson ran on. And he pulls your clothes from you slowly, running rough, caressing hands over the sensitive slopes of your curves, gentle pinches and squeezes to the places he likes most which is all of you. When the two of you sink into the tub, he sits between your legs, wide back leaning back on your chest so that you can run your hands along the strong breadth of him. You taste the water off his skin and listen to the sound of him rumble and purr like some sort of overgrown wolf beneath your touch.

“Did Clara tell you what happened at school yesterday?”

“Said you told her no more biting.”

“Did you tell you she punched some poor boy?”

“She did what?” He tenses, long fingers wrapping tightly around the circumference of your ankle in his lap.

“She called one of the boys in her class, and I quote, a little fucker, and then socked him in the nose.”

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ, Clara,” he sighs, laying his head back on your shoulder. “Why in the hell did she do that?”

“She’s your daughter.”

He hums as if he can’t bring himself to disagree with the reasoning. “Little fucker probably deserved it.”

“You’re not supposed to call children fuckers, Joel.” He grunts. “She also told him that her dad was going to beat up his dad.”

“Oh my God. I’m too old for this shit.”

“They’re heathens because of you. I hope you know this.”

“They ain’t heathens. They’re perfect.”

“You weren’t saying that last week when they painted your face blue.”

“Jesus, you’re right. Thought it was never comin’ off.” You snort, rolling your eyes at him, but hugging him closer. The best father anyone could ever want for their children, surely. “Gotta teach her how to throw a good punch,” he adds to himself.

You wash each other’s hair after that, taking turns lathering each other up, rinsing out the suds, and when he’s finished with you, he carries you to bed. Lays you out like his own personal feast and tastes you everywhere. The pads of your water-wrinkled toes, the backs of your knees, the crest of each hip bone, cruelly bypassing the place you need him most. Dragging his mouth over your stomach, tongue savoring the silvery streaks left behind by the growth of your daughters inside of you, over your nipples, dark and swollen. His mouth rests at the notch of your throat lightly, and then, whispered against the moist spot he’d made with his tongue, “You’re the only dream I’ve ever had. You know that?” And you tell him that you do, you do know, your husband who is, in his own right, like a dream figure.

Finally, taking pity on you, he slides down between your thighs, making room for the incredible breadth of his shoulders, and gently as possible spreads you apart with his thumbs, takes in the sight of your embarrassingly slick, untouched cunt. He blows a slow stream of cool air over your pulsing clit, and bends his head to lightly drag his tongue over the swollen bundle. And you’re going to cry, real, desperate tears. “Joel, please, don’t be mean.” But he’s never been very good at that.

“Oh, I know,” he tuts, “My poor baby. Been waitin’ all day haven’t you?” He’d purposely not made you come all day. This had been his plan all along, you know it. Another, light as air slip of his tongue, his mouth, sliding down to your leaking opening, mouthing against it, barely there. “You’ve made me the happiest man in the whole world, little bird. You know that?” And he licks your clit for real this time, the broad, flat of it pressing against you in one long, slow swipe. You can’t answer, ragged moan clawing up your throat. You reach for his dark head bent to your sex, one small foot propped against his thick shoulder to anchor yourself as he starts to eat you. Sucking hard and fast on your poor, throbbing clit, moving down to spear the strong muscle of his tongue into your pussy. You want more, you want his cock, you want it, you want it, you want it. He sucks the orgasm out of you, lapping and kissing at your cunt until you’re shuddering and shivering, clenching around that terrible, painful emptiness, leaking onto his tongue, and then surging up quickly. Massive fist around his cock, he presses the drooling head at your clit, teases you there slowly, watches the heave of your breasts as you struggle for breath. You bring your knees up, spread wider, inviting him in, and he notches the head slowly, giving you nothing more than the flared crown. He pauses there, thrusting shallowly, watching your swollen, red pussy swallow him, and head catching on the blushed rim, he spits, rubbing the flat of his fingers over the crest of your sex, the unsheathed length of his cock, and then presses in, in, in, in, all the way. You give a warbled whimper, trying to twist away, clawing at the sheets. You’ll never be used to it, never not enjoy the twinge of hurt when he gives you the whole thing. “Fuckin’ love it when you sing for me, little bird,” he moans. And he doesn’t give you a chance, doesn’t give you a second, he never does, setting a hard and brutal pace, riding your cunt like he owns it, because he does.

He wraps his hand around the round of your breast, squeezing, but still careful of how sensitive you are, thumb flicking at the tender nipple, and you spread your legs wider, one hand hooking beneath the sweaty back of your knee to pull yourself open, your other hand reaching down to cup the swinging weight of his balls as he thrusts up into you. He bares his teeth at you, wide palm landing with a little snapping slap low on your pelvis to press down, feel himself from the outside as you squeeze his balls. He shakes his head at you, fire in his eyes, “You’re gonna end up pregnant again, Birdie,” voice chastising, a little like a threat.

You close your eyes, back arching to take him deeper, don’t care, you want to say. “N– no, noooo, can’t” you pant instead, “Can’t get pregnant – breastfeeding.”

“Yeah, that’s what you said last time, little girl.” He lets himself fall forward, the bone of his pelvis grinding against your clit, and your cunt goes tight and so, so fucking wet, throbbing and fluttering around him, trying to suck him deeper, working around the hard invasion as you start to come. His sweaty, steaming head falls to your breast, mouthing wetly, fucking you through it, just like that, he murmurs, my perfect girl.

“Don’t– Don’t come in my pussy then.”

“No?” He slows his thrusts once he’s felt the trembling of your walls around him settle, lets his hips seesaw in and out slow and languorous, long provoking strokes. “Should I fill that sweet ass instead?” And despite the fierce blush that washes along the length of your body, you nod shyly at him, running your hands down his belly. The fact that he still possesses the ability to drive you to shyness after all this– “Say it, baby. I gotta hear it.” You flush impossibly deeper, little toes curling in humiliated excitement and lust.

“Please, daddy, please– I want it in my ass.” He pulls out suddenly, the lewd wet squelch of your cunt closing hungry around nothing. He spreads his fingers over the length of your sex, slick, gleaming cock, flushed so red it’s almost purple, veins pulsing along the length. “Gorgeous thing,” he murmurs as he starts to pet at your ass gently, thumb swiping, giving you light pressure, and then pushing in slowly, slowly. Your mouth falls open, gasping, eyes wide and wet and probably, definitely, a little pleading. “Lemme in, Birdie. Let me have this sweet little hole.” You nod, a marionette caught on his string, hips starting to hitch and follow the thrust of his invading thumb. “I’m gonna fill it with my come, and then watch it drip out of you. That what you want, baby?” Yes, yes. He pulls his thumb from you, slides his slick hand over your leaking sex again, and then fists his cock, the dull pressure of the wide head at your back entrance, pushing in slowly, making you feel the stretch and burn of it. Your fingers claw and scrape against his chest and abdomen, trying to pull him towards you, push him away, legs shifting restlessly at his sides until he’s buried to the hilt, heavy sac pressed against the curve of your bottom. Sweat slides in steaming rivulets down his temples, his neck, and a bright red flush moves across his chest and up his thick neck. You watch a violent shudder jerk through him, lashes fluttering closed, and then screwing shut tightly as he tries to control the rush of his oncoming orgasm. He runs his hands up your stomach, the dips of your waist and hips, wrapping around your breasts. “You’re doing so well, my little love.” He opens his eyes to take you in, pulls his hips back, and then pushes in again. “Taking my fat cock in this tiny hole. Look how messy and wet your greedy cunt is. You want me to fuck you here too?” He pulls your lips apart, wide, thrums at your swollen clit, and then starts to press a single finger slowly into your pussy. And oh, it’s too much, it’s too much, stretched and stuffed so full of him everywhere, the play of his fingers also on your clit, he starts to fuck your ass in hard, jolting thrusts, growling your name through clenched teeth.

“Look at it,” he spits, “Look at where I’m fucking you open. Look at how you’re all fucking mine.” Your heart beating out of your chest, insides twisting and throbbing, you take in the sight of your blushed sex stretched to obscenity around him, his soaking fingers, two of them now, pressing slowly in and out of your cunt as he slams into your ass. You let your head fall back, “I’m gonna come, I’m gonna come – oh God.” You cross your arms over your face to hide the sight of your overwhelmed tears, and he pulls his fingers out to slap the top of your cunt in a single stinging swat that you feel reverberate in the place he’s impaling you with his cock. “Nuh uh, you let me look at that gorgeous face when you come all over me.”

I can’t, I can’t, I can’t – it’s too much.

He doesn’t give you a choice. There’s never been much of that where he’s concerned. Everything below your navel goes painfully tight, white light streaking across your eyes as you twist and writhe beneath him, and he follows suit, starts to fill you in thick pulses, the heat of his spend coating your insides with a savage snarl of your name, the breath nearly knocked out of you with the intensity of your shared orgasm. He lets his weight fall over you, pressing you into the bed, massive body shivering and jerking, buried deep inside of you, and after the last spit of his cock, he pulls from you slowly, moaning softly and rolls the both of you over. Draping your listless form over his chest, arranging your limbs how he pleases. You shiver and feel the sweat cool along the slope of your spine, enjoy the tickle of your lashes catching in the coarse hair of his chest. You feel him play with the long tresses of your hair, draping them over his chest and shoulders, rubbing the smell of you against himself. Picking up the hand curled over his shoulder, he absently draws the backs of your fingers against the edge of his jaw and his ear, kissing and sucking on the soft tips.

“Tell me you love me,” you tell him.

“I love you, Birdie.”

Birdie, Birdie, my Birdie.

“Tell me that you’ll always love me.”

“I’ll always love you. For the rest of my life, as long as I live, I’ll love you.”

Nights later, after the excitement of celebration has died down, and the family’s settled back into peaceful routine, you think about when you’d first realized you were pregnant with Clara, and how you’d worried the news would disturb the happiness and peace he’d fought so hard to find for so many years, terrified that in some way, you’d force him into a situation he didn’t want, wasn’t prepared for. Now, looking across your large bed, two dark, curly heads, another bright, blonde as a star, separating the two of you while he sleeps deep and peacefully, Connie in her crib at your side, you are once again, like so many other times, hit with the full appreciation for the miracle this family is, how wrong you were to ever worry about it being anything but.

Netherfeildren's Masterlist

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#FoG fic #Joel miller #joel miller smut #the last of us #joel miller fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal #joel miller imagine #joel miller x original character #Joel Miller x ofc #joel miller x you

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whois-jess · 6 months

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Harvey's first WWE show watching his mama fight?

Babys first show

Baby burrito: Rhea Ripley x fem!reader

It was Harveys first show and seeing Rhea fight, he won't remember it but pictures and my memories will.

Me, Rhea and Harvey we sat around waiting as people were arriving and things were getting set up, Harvey was on Rhea lap ad she was bouncing him making him giggle "arent you so cute good thing you look like Mama huh" Rhea says in her baby voice as Harveys hand touch her hair and face smiling at her "how about we go to the ring?" Rhea says looking at me "no one is there its been set up" her arm wraps around Harvey as she stands up with him in her arms and i have to says she looks good with kids "sure" i smile standing up getting my phone.

We walk down to the ring Rhea gets in and i hand Harvey to her standing on the outside watching Rhea playing with him "look at my babys" i smile and Rhea makes Harvey wave and i laugh i take my phone out and record the moment one for social media one just for memories.

After a few minutes as Harvey hobbling around the ring and if he 'hit' Rhea she would pretend it hurt making me laugh "lets go baby" i say and she passes Harvey to me and ducks through the ropes giving me a gentle kiss then hopes down.

Its finally show time and me and Harvey are sat in the audience in the front row seat we managed to get watching other wrestlers some Harvey knows amd he would point saying "mama...Seth" amd i would nod smiling at my son.

After a few matches I hear The Judgment Days theme and Rhea walk out "mama!" Harvey had a little smile as Rhea walked down she smirked in the direction of us Harvey made grabby hands Rhea does her match and surprise she wins, Rhea grabs her belt and jumps down walks over to us and kisses Harvey forehead and my lips breaking character.

The show was over and me and Harvey walk over to Rhea she had taken her make up off but was still in her gear drinking water "lazy" i smile and pass Harvey over to her "oh shush you" she smiled kissing Harveys cheek he starts to play with her belt buckle and her fishnets "don't break it baby" i say watching Harvey playing with her ring gear "He's okay" she lets out a little chuckle readjusting him in her lap and he starts to pat her chest "yeah your son" she chuckles again "he is just breastfeed and hungry" i smile takimg him back and Rhea hands me her jacket to hide my chest and Harvey "soon we have to stop the breastfeeding" I say and Rhea nods "yeah i know we should start to easy him off now" i agree then Rhea starts to change back into comfy clothes and we heaf out saying bye to people.

#rhea ripley x reader #rhea ripley #wwe judgement day #wwe x reader

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krisdreaming · 10 months

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Okay, I have exactly two thoughts:

1: telling kuroo you're pregnant by getting a tiny replica of his nekoma jersey as a onesie with his number and "Daddy Little Captain" or something similar on it

and

2. you and kuroo coming home with your newborn and him being a total helicopter parent

OKAY LOOK, you can't just do this to me! Helicopter parent!Kuroo is something I never considered before and it's suddenly all that I can think about. Don't get me wrong the lil jersey thing is cute as heck and already half-written in my head, but #2 is just begging to be written :') Tysm for sending, ily!!! ❤️ (Also I'm totally open to writing more helicopter parent!Kuroo for different stages of the daughter's life)

Kuroo Tetsuro x f!reader, allusion to breastfeeding

WC: 612

"Are you sure it's all strapped in correctly?" Tetsurou frowns over the car seat that holds your sleeping daughter, and you reach across and rest your hand on top of his.

"It is. You triple-checked it before we even left for the hospital." You're trying to be patient, but all you want right now is to be back home. "And I'll be back here with her. it'll be fine," You assure him, and with one final tug on the seat belt, he finally nods and closes the door, walking around to the driver's seat.

The drive home is relatively short, no more than 15 minutes, but soon after you leave the hospital she starts to fuss. You catch his gaze dart to the rearview mirror, and you reach over to rest your hand gently on her tummy. "It's okay," You croon softly, and you aren't sure if you're speaking more to your daughter or to your husband. "We'll be home soon." At your touch and the soothing sound of your voice, she eventually does settle back into sleep, and you can hear his exhalation of relief.

Finally home, you ease yourself out of the car while Tetsurou unhooks her car seat, carefully carrying it into the house. He unbuckles her and gingerly lifts her from the seat, cradling her gently in his arms. Sinking into the couch, he looks down at her with the softest smile on his face. You curl in next to him, resting your cheek on his shoulder and peering down at her yourself.

"She's so perfect," He murmurs, "So tiny." She lifts a fist and scrubs at her eye for a few moments before letting out a deep baby sigh and snuggling in closer against her father. The sound he releases is something between a squeak and a whimper, and you can't help but let out a soft chuckle.

"I don't think I'm ever going to put her down," He finally whispers, leaning his cheek against the top of your head.

"Not even if she poos?" You whisper back, mirth in your voice, and he actually hums in thought for a few moments.

"Maybe then," He finally allows, leaning down to press a delicate kiss to her forehead before pressing a matching one to your temple. "How old do you think she should be before we let her date?" He asks suddenly, and you can't help the bark of laughter that bursts out.

"Tetsu, she was born yesterday," You remind him. She begins to stir at the disturbance, squirming in his arms and whimpering the beginnings of a cry.

"Look, you upset her," He scolds you lightly, completely ignoring your statement. "Did mean old Mommy wake you up?" He coos down at her.

"Payback for all of that 2 am kicking," You say drily, reaching out and running a fingertip down her soft cheek. "How's it feel, sweetheart?" You ask her softly. She only cries louder at that.

"Now you're just making it worse," He leans away from you, "Don't worry. Daddy will take you far, far away from the nasty lady." He gets to his feet, bouncing her gently.

"I don't know if that's a great idea," You warn, shifting to a more comfortable position on the couch. "It's time to feed her again, and I'm not sure how successful you'll be on that front."

"Oh, alright," He sighs, handing her over reluctantly. "Just because she's hungry." Despite his theatrics, a smile breaks across his face at the sight of her in your arms. He leans in to press a tender kiss to your lips. "I love you so much," He murmurs against them. "Both of you."

#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fluff #kuroo tetsurou x reader #kuroo x reader #kuroo fluff #kuroo tetsurou

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sunny44 · 1 year

Text

Accident

Pairing: Mason Mount x mom!reader

Warnings: car accident

Summary: Where y/n has a car accident with their daughter on the way to Mason's game and at halftime he gets the news that they are in the hospital.

I was already very late for the game, I got tied up with work stuff and missed the alarm I set up, so now I was running out of time to get to the game in time.

Only in the middle of the way some idiot came with everything and threw my car far away.

"Oh my God." I unbuckled my seat belt and turned to the back seat watching my daughter cry loudly. "It's okay, baby."

Soon I could hear noises of ambulance and police cars, they came to me and I got out of the car carefully holding my daughter.

"You need to be checked." The paramedic said.

"I'm not letting her go."

"Give her to me so she can also be checked.”

"I already said I am not releasing her, it is my right to accept treatment or not if I am conscious and as I am and I said no. I'll accept being taken to the hospital and in the ambulance you guys can check her but I'm not letting you take her out of me."

"All right, let's go."

I got into the ambulance trying to calm her down, I was nervous and scared, I needed to talk to Mason but my stuff stayed in the car so I couldn't call him. They check us and none of us have a concussion in the way to the hospital.

As soon as we arrived I had to hand Maia over to the nurses so they could run tests on her and me.

After about half an hour I was back in the room and soon they brought her back to me, I started breastfeeding her because she was hungry.

"The police will be coming here in a few minutes to take your statement miss, is there anyone we can call to stay with you?"

"Yes there is my husband Mason but he is busy right now so he’s not going to see the call."

"Anyone else?"

"Actually there is his coach number, you can call him and tell him I had an accident please." She agrees and writes down the number I gave her and leaves the room to make the call.

Meanwhile on the other side of town, Mason was playing with pride knowing that his team was winning and that his wife and daughter were somewhere in the stands watching him play.

Little did he know that they were both in a hospital room waiting for him to come to them.

The first half ended and Mason went to get a drink of water, but the worried look on the coach's face made him worry that something bad happens.

"Is everything okay?" He asks.

"I got a call from the hospital, your wife and daughter were involved in a car accident."

"Are they okay?" He asks worriedly.

"They are fine, they took them there for some tests but you should go there."

"Yeah, sure."

I grabbed my things and ran to the car, it was a little difficult since there were some fans there but I managed to dodge them and go to the hospital that the coach had told me about.

The way there was torturous, even though he said they were fine I hadn't seen them with my own eyes yet.

I ran inside the hospital and stopped in front of the reception desk and after she told me the room I ran to where my girls were.

"Thank God." I say entering the room and going to them. "How are you my love?"

"We are fine Mase, it was just a really big scary accident."

"What happened?"

"I was late with work stuff and after I let the babysitter go we were on our way to the game when some crazy person came up fast and hit us." She says tearfully. "But I swear I was paying attention to the road and I wasn't going fast and..."

"Relax, I believe you babe."

"It's just that I don't want you to think that i was going fast with Maia in the car and that I've put her at risk and..."

"Calm down, honey, you're too nervous." She stops and takes a deep breath. "I know you're careful when you're with her and it wasn't your fault, it was the person who hit you."

"It's just that I can't stop thinking that something bad could have happened to her."

"I know, I spent the whole way here thinking the worst had happened to you but it's okay now."

"Can you lie here with me?"

"Of course I can baby." She goes to the side and hands me Maia who smiled when she saw me. "Let's watch the rest of the game."

I turned the TV on the channel and we stood there watching the end of the second half together.

Bonus scene!

Masonmount instagram post

Liked by @yourusername, @benchilwell, @yourmom, @jazbenham and others 818739

Tagged: @yourusername

@masonsount as you may know two days ago on they’re way to the game, my wife and my daughter were involved in a car accident.

I just wanted to let you guys know that they are fine, luckily the accident wasn’t serious just very scary.

Thank you for all the messages of support, my wife and I appreciate and we’re going to take a break from the social media to take care of our little family.

Comments have been disabled

Let me know if you want to be on the tag list of Mason and another footballers I’ll write for

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echoweaver · 21 days

Text

Modding status: Doing stuff.

I really got bogged down in trying to get Warrior Cats ready for alpha release, so I gave myself a break and dusted off some old animation projects.

TIL how to do baby-holding animations! That's been the big hurdle to doing the update of Nona's breastfeeding mod with animations from TSM. The adult animations are quite nice and fit the TS3 baby burrito pretty well, but there's no baby animations because the baby in TSM is an object. I'm using some existing baby animations, but they need some tweaking.

I also revisited an old project to create child conversions of a bunch of Handiness animations, using a bunch of stuff I've learned about working in Blender since then.

I am going to get back to Warrior Cats. Getting a few smaller wins under my belt should help.

I'm also brainstorming a physical attraction mod to bring some of the features of Wonderful Whims into TS3. It looks like I could create a preference system where a sim perfers certain eye color, hair color, fitness, body weight, and breast size/facial hair dependent on sexual orientation. A physical attraction score could be derived from how much any given sim meets those preferences, and then romantic actions could be augmented by how attracted the sim receiving the interaction is to the sim doing the interaction.

E.g. if your sim tries to kiss a townie, the townie's reaction would be augmented by how attracted the townie is to you. Then if the townie initiates an interaction, your sim's response would be augmented by their attraction to the townie, which could be positive or negative. I'd like to have the romantic interaction stages, or whatever they're called (flirty, alluring, irresistible) go up faster without actually increasing the sim's relationship with each other, i.e. you can romance/jump in the sack with someone you're attracted to without knowing them very well.

Then the TS3 attraction system could be treated as social compatibility, which is really what it is anyway. Social compatibility is a more mutual thing, while physical attraction isn't.

Still poking around to see what's possible.

I'd probably call the mod Chemistry as a tribute to an old abandoned project of Twallan's.

Also -- this physical chemistry project would involve NO ANIMATING.

#echoweaver #sims 3 #sims 3 modding #sims 3 pets expansion expansion #sims 3 warrior cats challenge

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guess-my-next-obsession · 2 years

Text

The Stable Girl: Chapter Eight

pairing: joel miller x f!reader (Sunshine)

chapter rating: E (face sitting, ass eating, unprotected anal sex, double penetration, squirting, talks of Sarah’s death, joel crying, baby stuff, breastfeeding, all in all these two just being obsessed with each other)

word count: 5.2k

authors note: this is mostly just a soft filler chapter with literally the most filthy smut i’ve written for these two. super self indulgent and fluffy bc i just wanna give these two happiness 😭

series masterlist

“Could you grab another blanket, baby? I think Luna’s getting cold.” You were sat out in the backyard around a bonfire, Luna fast asleep in your arms while Lucas laid in Maria’s.

“Sure thing, darlin.” Joel kissed your head as he stood up from his spot beside you and walked inside.

The twins had just reached the four-month mark, their distinct personalities now making it easy to tell the two apart though they looked so similar.

Luna was a lovebug, always needing to be held and spoiled with kisses. She rarely cried and was a big fan of the sound of laughter, her own giggles beginning to sound more human than the incoherent crackles from before. She loved to eat and loved to sleep even more. She was the easy baby.

And then there was Lucas. A Miller boy through and through. He rarely slept, loved a good tantrum, but when you got him in the right mood, he was the softest and most cuddly baby boy in the world. His eyes were just like his fathers, and whenever you looked into them, you swore you saw the same kind of soul inside that you saw when you looked into Joel’s—soft and sensitive, good and honest.

Around you at the fire sat Tommy, Maria, their now seven-year old daughter Vivienne, Ellie, and Ellie’s “kind of special, I guess” friend (as Ellie dubbed her), Cat. Joel had managed to hunt a rare Bison, giving most of the meat to the town’s butcher but reserving enough for a little barbecue.

As someone who lost their parents very young, you felt a swelling amount of joy and belonging in your heart on nights like these. You’d lost a father, a mother, and most recently cut all ties with your brother, but by some miracle found a new group of people to call your family—a home in the midst of desolation.

“Here, lemme take her for a while,” Joel returned holding a fleece blanket, scooping the sleeping baby girl out of your arms and into his.

It was nights like these that your adoration for the man beside you became almost unbearable, your entire body longing to climb on his lap and hug him so tightly that you merged into one being.

He was so attentive with your children, so helpful and patient, so sweet with you, and on top of all the emotional needs he was meeting, he also looked criminally handsome. He outdid himself tonight, wearing your favorite flannel, leaving the top few buttons open to show off the chest you so dearly wished to pepper with kisses.

It was impossible not to be absolutely head over heels in love with him, and now with one year of feeling this way under your belt, you were sure that the feeling would never fade no matter how many years passed.

“Hey, I heard we’re gonna have to build another stable with all the horses you’ve been wranglin’ from outside,” Tommy called over the fire to you, your eyes unwilling to turn away from Joel. He was leaning down, head tilted, smile wide and dimpled, mumbling to your baby girl and making her giggle. Tommy whistled at you and your head finally turned, a smile still on your face from watching your partner. “You hear me?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, shrugging. “It’s no big deal.”

“No big deal? You went from not bein’ able to even hold a gun to bein’ out there able to hold your own. We’re proud of you.” Maria interjected with a smile, a soft chuckle leaving your lips at the praise. You never were very good at receiving a compliment.

“Well, thank you guys. I like it out there now…in very small doses.” Joel chuckled at your response, your eyes meeting his. He reached over and tapped your knee with a half-grin.

“I’m proud of you, sweetheart.” You just smiled down at your lap, too consumed with your cutesy feelings for him to look him in the eye anymore. Joel must’ve sensed something was up because not a minute later he was scooting his chair closer to yours until your thighs were flush together, his hand reaching to rub at your back mindlessly as he carried on conversation with his family. “Tommy, I was an angel growin’ up. You were the bad one. Remember that time you skipped class and then I got grounded for it?”

“Oh, hell, this shit again,” Tommy chuckled and shook his head. “It wasn’t my fault.”

“No, but you coulda said somethin!” You chuckled at his enthusiasm, rarely seeing him in such a social mood.

“What happened?” You asked softly, nudging his side with your shoulder. Joel turned to look at you with a chuckle, eyes flickering to your lips before speaking.

“Tommy was a freshman and I was a junior, and I’m at school because I wasn’t bad like him. I actually enjoyed learnin—“

“Alright, Einstein,” Tommy interrupted with a chuckle.

“Anyways, I guess Tommy ditched class to go hang out at the mall or smoke cigarettes or somethin, I don’t know. But they call up our parents and tell ‘em that their son had skipped school, and my parents thought that Tommy was a saint, so they automatically assumed it was me,” Joel chuckled and pointed his finger at Tommy. “And Tommy didn’t say shit! He got home at the same time I did, and he listened to them nail into me and ground me for a god damn month and let me take the fall.”

“I wasn’t about to get grounded and ruin my perfect reputation with mom and dad.” Tommy shrugged and took a sip of his beer.

“Unbelievable,” Joel chuckled and turned his head to look at you, your eyes batting from exhaustion and some dreamy sort of affection for him that was always present but extra apparent at the moment. He leaned in to your ear and whispered to you. “You tired, baby?”

“A little,” you looked at him, hoping that he’d see the longing in your eyes for him so that you wouldn’t have to say the words. “I’m gonna go put the babies down and take a bath.”

“Alright,” he smiled at you as you took Luna into your arms before walking around to grab Lucas with the other, both babies fussing a bit at being woken up but quickly going back to sleep.

•••

“Y’all have a good night,” Joel said goodbye to his brother and his family, seeing them out through the back gate before going over to the fire to put it out, Ellie and Cat still sitting there talking. “Sorry, girls. Gotta put this out before I get too lazy to do it later.”

“No problem, we’re headed inside anyways.” Ellie stood up and grabbed Cat’s hand, Joel smiling to himself at her affectionate side making a rare appearance.

“Have a good night, kids.” He called out to them and Ellie waved at him from over her shoulder as they disappeared into her garage-turned-bedroom.

With the fire now out, Joel could head inside, desperate to get his hands on Sunshine like he’d been itching to do all night long.

He wasn’t sure if she was even aware of it, but she was wearing the same knit dress that she wore the night they first slept together, and it was driving him wild. He wanted to recreate that night, him on the couch, her riding him with their clothes still on because they were too desperate to wait. Every time she looked over at him with that innocent smile, cradling his babies one at a time, he felt consumed with a almost maddening kind of love for her. He’d do anything she asked of him, good or bad, right or wrong, it didn’t matter.

She was in the bathroom when he finally found her, wrapped in a towel and brushing her teeth. Joel smiled at her through the mirror, leaning against the doorframe and crossing his arms. She giggled and tipped her chin up at him through the mirror, as though to ask “what’s up?”.

“Just enjoyin’ the view,” he was tired, his voice huskier and deeper than normal, and he knew the effect it would have on her. Sunshine grinned as she spit out her toothpaste, swishing her mouth with a homemade mouthwash she concocted before turning around to smile at him.

“I’ve been enjoying the view all night. It’s a nice view.” She pulled him in by his belt loops, Joel breathing in the delicate scent of her soap as he ran his hands up and down her arms.

“Have you?” He sounded truly surprised by her confession, not having caught a single hint that she must’ve tried throwing his way.

“You didn’t know?” She asked with equal shock, Joel shaking his head.

“No, why didn’t you say somethin’? I woulda kicked ‘em all out hours ago.” He trailed his fingertips over the edge of the towel around her chest, slowly undoing the fold she’d created there to keep it on. Sunshine held it on her body, just allowing the front to fall open. Joel sucked in a sharp inhale at the sight of her body, her breasts still larger than normal from the breastfeeding but the rest of it returning to the state it was in when he met her aside from a few new stretch marks that he’d become well acquainted with over the past few months, showering them with kisses. “Look at you, baby. I’ll never get enough of this.”

“You flatter me, Joel Miller,” she smiled at him the way she did when she was trying her best to accept a compliment, her mouth twisting a little and the apples of her cheeks becoming more prominent. He traced over her cheekbone with his thumb, trailing it down to her bottom lip before pinching her chin.

“I love you so damn much, you know that?” His sincerity seemed to come as a shock to her, that bashful smile fading to a look of awe. “I’m so glad you picked me. Can’t imagine my life without you in it.”

“Joel,” she chuckled, her shy smile returning again. “You’re going to make me cry, you know my hormones are still all over the place.”

He laughed, nodding at her before softening his eyes. “I can’t help it. I’m so in love with you.”

She stood up off the counter, letting her towel fall to the floor as she walked him back against the opposite wall, her hand holding his jaw as she pulled him down for a kiss. Joel groaned into it, his hands gripping her hips and tugging her tight to his frame. Sunshine was kissing him breathless, his brows furrowing as he tried his best to show her how much he loved her through such a small physical act.

“I need you,” she whispered against his lips, Joel nodding as he kissed her again, backing her out of the bathroom and down the hall to his bedroom, the couple making sure to be quiet as to not disturb the sleeping infants in the next room.

“Fuck, I love you, baby,” he breathed out as he shut the door with his foot, his hands now palming her ass.

“I want…wanna try something tonight,” she pulled away from him, her smile bashful as she looked up into his eyes. “But I don’t know if you’ll want to do it.”

“I’ll do anything for you.” It was sincere. It didn’t matter what she asked of him—it was hers.

“I wanna…have all of you tonight. As much as I can get.” She unbuttoned his flannel as she spoke, Joel’s eyes locked on her fingertips and his breathing shallow. “I want you…to fuck me in the ass—“

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Joel breathed out in a barely audible whisper, his cock going from a half-chub to painfully hard in a second.

“And while you do that, I want your fingers inside my pus—“

Joel didn’t need another word to leave her lips, his mouth crashing against hers as he picked her up, ignoring her giggled squeal as he walked her to the bed and laid her down, his body covering hers like a shield.

“You’re so fuckin’ perfect, darlin’…do you feel how hard you got me?” He pressed himself against her bare center, Sunshine’s eyes rolling back in her head as the seam of his jeans rubbed her clit just right. “You want all of me tonight, baby?”

Sunshine said nothing, simply nodding her head adamantly and ripping his shirt open, the buttons flying across the room.

“I’ll fix it tomorrow,” she breathed out as her lips latched onto his neck, his hips still grinding against her as she fumbled with his belt buckle. “Use the belt on me.”

“What?” He asked in a chuckle, lifting his head to look at her.

“Tie my hands behind my back when you fuck me.” Joel couldn’t help the moan that slipped out at her request, his cock having already been aching for her when she was simply wearing a dress and cradling his children. Now here she was asking the most filthy, sensual requests from him, and he was barely hanging on.

“Fuckin’ hell, baby,” he quickly forced his jeans and underwear off his body, stepping out of them before flipping her over onto her knees, her ass arched in the air in the middle of the bed. Joel used his belt to bind her wrists together, slipping the leather through the slats in his headboard. “Like this?”

“Yes, fuck me,” she moaned out, Joel’s eyes lowering to her dripping pussy. He let out a growl as he lowered his mouth to her slit, spreading her arousal around to her tighter hole with his tongue. He could feel her pussy fluttering as he swirled his tongue around her tight ring of muscle, his fingers joining the party and slipping inside of her pussy to target that special spot inside. “Oh my god, Joel…I need it so bad.”

“I know, sweetheart, but I gotta work you open first. Don’t wanna hurt you,” he placed a kiss to the round swell of her ass, her walls twitching around his fingers as he continued to fuck her with them. He pulled them out once he was well drenched in her slick, rubbing the two fingertips over her tight ring, adding pressure as he went. “You ever done this before?”

“What do you think?” She quipped playfully.

“No?” He asked with a chuckle, Sunshine nodding. “Me neither, so…you gotta tell me what hurts and what feels good.”

“I will, baby.” Her soft and shy reassurance melted his heart a bit more than he expected, his lips pressing against the bottom of her spine.

Joel finally breached her entrance with one finger, taking it slow as he loosened her up, his other hand reaching down to rub at her clit the way he’d learned got her off best. Sunshine tugged at the restraints around her wrist as she let out a soft moan, their sex life not affected by the newborns aside from the volume in which they could fuck at now.

“Stay just like that,” he ordered, Sunshine nodding in compliance. Joel laid on his back between her open thighs, smiling at the view of her pussy right above his face. “Looks so damn good, darlin. Why don’t you sit down and give me a taste?”

Sunshine obliged, her pussy resting against his waiting mouth and grinding against it. Joel hummed at her taste, one hand holding her hip to keep her down against his mouth, the other reaching around to continue working her open while she rode his face.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” his finger was now all the way inside of her tight hole so he added another, surprised that the new digit triggered her orgasm, her pussy gushing on his tongue. Sunshine was breathless from holding in her moans, her thighs shaking around his head. “So sweet.”

“I’m ready, Joel. Please, fuck me in the ass,” Joel groaned against her inner thigh as he peppered it with kisses before sliding out from underneath her. He expertly flipped her onto her back, the belt twisting as she remained restrained to it. Smiling at her genuinely, the couple allowed themselves to laugh together for a moment, both so worked up that it was comical. “Mm, I love that I can laugh with you.”

Her words touched him in a way he hadn’t been prepared for, his smile turning into a loving frown.

“I love you, Sunshine.” He stroked her burning cheeks with his knuckles, his cock prodding at her entrance and sinking in out of instinct. Both of them gasped at the slick vacuum of her pussy around him, his thrusts deep and grinding before he was pulling out of her and repositioning himself at her other hole. “Are you sure about this?”

“Completely.” He leaned forward to kiss her as his cock slipped past the tight ring of muscle with little resistance from the slickness of her orgasm. Joel gasped at the tightness around the head of his girth, Sunshine’s face contorting into a look of pain.

“Are you okay, darlin? Is it too much?” She shook her head violently, a deep, animalistic moan falling from her lips as she pulled on her restraints to try and pull him down. Joel leaned forward, kissing her and cradling her face as he inched his length in little by little until he was fully seated inside of her. “So fuckin’ tight, baby. You ready for me to move?”

“Yes, yes, please,” she panted, Joel’s hands on either side of her body keeping him upright as he slid out before pushing all the way back in, her eyes rolling back in her head. “Jesus, you’re so fucking big, Joel. Feels so good.”

“You feel amazin’, honey…so good for me. Takin’ it all. You want more?” Joel rasped as he tried not to finish at the mere sight of her body beneath his, open and all for him.

“Yes, fuck, want your fingers,” she begged, opening her eyes. Joel softened his pleasured scowl, smiling down at her as he lowered his fingers to her dripping pussy, sliding them in while never once breaking eye contact. When he curled them up to rub against her spot at the same time as his cock thrusted into her, she shuddered with pleasure, her walls fluttering around him. “So good, it’s so fucking g-good, Joel.”

“I know, I know…so fuckin’ good. Makes you wanna cry, don’t it?” He purred into the air, his hips snapping into her while his fingers targeted her g-spot, thumb rubbing circles against her clit.

“I love you so much, Joel,” her eyes opened and she looked up at him like he hung the stars up in the sky, all restraint leaving him as he pounded into her furiously, his fingers cramping but unrelenting in their attack. “G-gonna make me cum, feels…too good…please cum with me, baby. Cum for me.”

“Fuck,” he closed his eyes for the first time, so close to the edge that he could tip over at anytime, but he wanted to do this together. Lowering his lips to hers, he felt her start to gush around his fingers, a wicked smile growing on his face. “You gonna squirt for me, Sunshine? Gonna make a mess?”

“Yes, yes, yes! I’m—oh!” He pulled his fingers out and watched as she wet his lower stomach, his hand now rubbing at her clit to work her through he pulsing orgasm that sucked his cock deeper into her tighter hole until he was pulling out and laying his cock on her stomach, white ropes of his release pooling there as he came so hard he nearly passed out. Joel was still moaning a full minute after his release hit him, the aftershocks of his bliss almost violent. “That was so good, baby.”

“Yeah, it was,” he agreed with a chuckle, leaning forward to undo the restraints on her wrists, frowning at the red marks left on her skin. “Did I hurt you?”

“No.” He tilted her head at her as though to ask the question again. “Only the good kind of hurt, I promise.”

“Next time I’ll find somethin’ softer to tie you up with,” he lowered his mouth to hers for a soft kiss, their breathing still labored and hearts still pounding. “We made a mess.”

“Yeah, we did.” She grinned at him, running her hands through his hair.

“Let’s hop in the shower,” he stood up and held his hand out for her to take, her legs weak, thighs trembling, and body covered in the mixture of their releases, but she stood up anyways, letting him carry most of her weight as they crept over to the bathroom with quiet giggles.

Their shower quickly turned into another bath once they washed off the mess of their romp, Sunshine’s back pressed against Joel’s chest in the hot water. Joel’s fingers trailed up and down her arm and shoulder, his lips kissing any bit of skin he could find as he hummed a song for her at her request.

“I wanna tell you about somethin’ I’ve been sorta holdin’ off on,” Joel’s voice was thick with exhaustion, but neither of them were quite ready to give up this time alone yet, their days consumed with taking care of their twins, going to work, and watching over Ellie. Sunshine tilted her head a bit to look at him better, his finger tracing the curve of her jawline.

“Okay,” she nodded, eyes searching his with concern.

“It ain’t nothin’ to worry about, just…I know I haven’t told you about the night Sarah passed, and…I don’t know. I guess it’s just taken me this long to finally be able to talk about it, so I wanna talk about it.” She nodded again, her hand rubbing his thigh beneath the water. “It was my birthday. She, uh, I was home late—always home late back then—and I remember feeling so damn tired. My start-up was just a damn weight around my neck, and I was a single dad—anyways. I just wanted to sleep, but she wasn’t havin’ that, not without makin’ sure I felt special on my birthday…my sweet baby girl.”

Joel smiled at the memory, Sarah holding out the small box, his hands opening it to see a watch—the watch that was now sitting on the bathroom counter.

“She gave me that watch over there. I don’t know how she did it or where she got the money—she said she was selling ‘hardcore drugs’.” Sunshine chuckled, her eyes locked on his as he told the story. “Anyways, I put her to bed one minute, and the next I was bein’ woken up by this commotion outside. I turned on the news and saw…chaos. I don’t know how to explain it, but it just felt like one bad, bad dream.”

“I remember,” she nodded, Joel’s eyes turning to hers. He kissed her forehead and hummed.

“I found her awake, in my office. Had to grab my gun and kill one of our neighbors who’d already been infected right in front of my little girl. It was awful.” He nuzzled his cheek against her head, hugging her body close. “And then Tommy came and picked us up. Left all our shit behind. It was chaos, everyone tryin’ to get out but nobody able to.”

He took a beat before continuing, the next part the hardest to retell.

“Everything was happenin’ so fast. I hardly remember it all. Just bits and pieces. Me and Sarah runnin’ through the town on fire, seein’ shit neither of us ever should’ve had to see…and then I thought we’d made it. Thought we were in the clear. But…the military had already occupied the town, and there was one guard out in the field we’d ran into.” He sighed, closing his eyes and squeezing them shut for a minute as the scene played over in his head, a tear falling down his cheeks at the memory he’d kept locked away for so long now finally being brought back to the surface. “I didn’t know he had a gun until it was too late. I tried…tried to reason with him. Tell him we weren’t sick. None of it mattered. He got the order to shoot, and he did.”

“Oh, baby.” She turned around in his hold, hugging him close in the water, her face nuzzled into his neck.

“I tried to dodge it, and I thought I did a good job. Thought I protected her—the only person I needed to protect. But…I didn’t.” He cleared his throat, taking in a deep breath. “She was shot in the stomach. Too much blood lost. Tommy and I stayed there for as long as we could, holdin’ her…tellin’ her I was sorry.”

Joel was fully crying now, held together only by the loving embrace of the woman in his arms. She squeezed him so tightly that in any other circumstance it might have hurt, but at that moment it just made him feel like he wouldn’t shatter. That he might make it out of retelling this story in one piece.

“We buried her that night—or Tommy did, I should say. I couldn’t…wasn’t of any use for a long time.” He wiped away his tears with the palm of his hand. “The watch got broken in the crossfire, and I left it like that for a long time. Didn’t want to touch it. Didn’t want to look at it. But, Ellie brought it to me when you were givin’ birth, repaired. She said she wanted me to have it so it could feel like Sarah was there with me, and…it did. I haven’t taken it off since except to shower. It just…makes me feel like I still have a part of her around. I think she’d love the twins. Think she’d love you.”

“I am so sorry, Joel. So sorry.” She lifted her head to look into his eyes, a small smile growing on his face.

“It’s okay,” he assured, kissing her forehead. “I’ve made my peace with it, or…I’m trying to at least.”

“I’m so proud of you.” Her words were sincere, thick with affection and pride. “None of that was your fault. I need you to know that. You didn’t fail her, didn’t hurt her, you were just trying to get her to safety and someone else came along and took her from you. None of it was your fault.”

“I love you,” he wouldn’t disagree with her like he wanted to, so he chose to say the second thing that popped into his mind. “You have given me so much. Helped me through so much. I…never thought I’d get to this point. And I owe it all to you, Ellie, and those twins that I think I can hear squawkin’ right now.”

“Thought I was hallucinating it,” she chuckled and he let out a small huff of amusement, kissing her forehead again. “Come on, let’s go deal with them and then get some rest. You look exhausted, my cowboy.”

“I am exhausted,” he nodded. Sunshine kissed his lips sweetly before standing up and stepping out of the tub, wrapping her body in a towel and holding one open for Joel as he joined her in the cold autumn air of the un-heated home.

They both shivered a bit as they dried off in the bedroom, changing into their pajamas before Joel headed in to the twins room while Sunshine changed the sheets.

Luna and Lucas were both up, the latter screaming his head off while his sister just stared with tired eyes at her father. Joel reached in to grab his baby boy first, bouncing him a bit in his arms and kissing the side of his head as he walked them back into their bedroom.

“Oh, he’s in a fussy mood,” Sunshine frowned as she took the baby into her arms, rocking him and humming as she kissed his forehead. Just like his father, Lucas was always immediately calmed by his mother’s presence, his screams turning into soft cries that turned into sniffles until he was nearly fast asleep again.

“Gonna bring in the other one,” he kissed the top of her head and left again, this time grabbing his baby girl with one arm and their respective blankets with the other.

When he walked into the room, Sunshine was laying in bed half-asleep, Lucas in her arms as he was breastfed. Joel stopped in the doorway to watch for minute, swept away by affection for her. She’d been working so hard lately, not only as a mother but also for the town. He could tell she was exhausted, and while he did everything he could to help carry the load, he still felt desperate to take away all the weight on her shoulders for a while.

So, after laying Luna down on the bed in between where her parents slept, Joel carefully plucked Lucas from her chest and walked him downstairs to make him a bottle.

“You need to take it easy on your mama, boy,” Joel playfully scolded his son as he drank his bottle, his eyes blinking up at his father. “I got a crush on her, you know? Don’t like seein’ her so tired all the time. And I know it ain’t your fault, us Miller boys have always been trouble—“

“Joel, baby,” Sunshine’s chuckles caused his head to whip around, Luna cradled in her arms. “What are you doing down here? Come up to bed.”

“I was just tryin’ to give you a break,” he walked over to her, his free arm wrapping around her shoulders to pull her into his side.

“I don’t need a break, I just need you in bed with me,” she assured, resting her head on his shoulders as they stood in the middle of their kitchen, looking down at their babies. “I think Luna’s good to go back to bed, she wasn’t hungry.”

“I’ll stay up with Lucas until he’s asleep,” he kissed her temple but she shook her head.

“So I gotta compete with my baby boy to get you in bed with me? I’ll start throwing tantrums if I have to,” she joked, Joel chuckling as he walked them upstairs.

“I promise I’ll be in bed in just a few minutes, baby.” The parents set their children down in their cribs, Lucas surprisingly going right to sleep now that his belly was full. Joel turned to a very sleepy and grumpy looking Sunshine, pointing at his son. “I think my talk with him is already startin’ to work.”

“Come here,” she pulled him in, wrapping her arms around his waist and hugging him close, her head on his chest. Joel hugged her back, kissing the top of her head as he swayed her. “You make me so needy for you. If I wasn’t so sleepy I’d ask you to fuck me again.”

“I can make a pot of coffee,” he joked, Sunshine chuckling against his chest.

“I can wait until morning,” she assured, letting go of him and taking his hand in hers as she led him back to their bedroom and into bed. She clung to him underneath the blankets, for warmth or sheer need for contact, he couldn’t be sure. “You’re my home, Joel. Never had one before I found you.”

“Sweet girl,” he kissed her for the millionth time that night, whispering sweet nothings to her until they were both fast asleep in each other’s arms.

Everything in his past led him here, every right, every wrong, everything that haunted him—it was all a stepping stone to her. He no longer could think about any of that, any of his demons, because in loving her, that everything had faded to nothing. Now, his everything belonged to one person, one beautiful soul that never seemed to get tired of him the way so many had before.

He wished more than anything that Sarah could be here with them, to see her father in love and happy, to be under his roof or under her own with her own family, it didn’t matter. But he knew deep down that she was in a better place, and that one day he’d be there with her again, and until then, he’d learn to feel content with her memory, the faintest sense of her presence whenever he wore his watch.

•••

joel taglist: @uselsshuman @joelmillerscoffee @wildemaven @axshadows @sherala007 @browneyes-issac @kimm4710 @stxrrylunatic @sara-alonso @paulalikestuff @chxpsi @auberosier @mashomasho @harriedandharassed @trickstersp8 @trinkets01 @jlmaddinson @laureliciousdefinition @oh-no-a-whovian @buoyfriend @chorraich @extraneous-trip @oliviajdjarin @graciexmarvel @amb11 @reigndropss @multifand0m-gal0re @hypnoash @chronic-aly @wheresarizona @pedropascalsx @xocalliexo @myswficlist @untitledarea (sorry if your tag isn’t working! and let me know if you’d like to be added!)

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal fanfiction #joel miller x reader smut #joel miller angst #joel miller fluff #joel miller smut #joel miller x you #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #joel miller #tlou hbo #tlou fanfiction #joel tlou #tlou #the last of us #the stable girl

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absurdthirst · 1 year

Text

A Family for Christmastide {Pero Tovar x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word count: 13k

Warnings: Fingering, selfishness, withdrawn consent, masturbation, oral sex (female receiving), vaginal sex, bondage, cream pie, babies, breastfeeding, oral sex (male receiving), cum swallowing

Comments: Needing shelter for the winter, a Spaniard arrives on your doorstep. You offer him warmth, food and comfort in your bed as long as he pleasures you first.

A/N: We loved the idea of Pero not being skilled in anything but being a three pump chump and learning how to give head. And we had to make it Christmasy, because you know...reasons

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

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Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

Pero grunts when he gets another “no” from an innkeeper. It’s the eve before Christmas and he is searching for somewhere to stay before the snow falls. He wants somewhere to settle down for the winter, wait it out until he can continue on his journey to sell his sword.

“Fuck.” He grunts when he is sent back out into the cold and he huffs, adjusting the satchel on his shoulder full of everything he has in the world.

“My friend, there may be an option. A woman…she has a farm. She has no husband. She may require…assistance.” He hints and Pero grunts, knowing what the man is implying but you may allow him to stay for his coins…maybe his cock if he’s lucky. He follows the man’s directions and makes his way down the path, knocking on your door.

Stirring the soup hanging in the large pot over the hearth, you straighten when you hear the knock on the door. Groaning to yourself as you set the spoon down and prepare to rebuff another ‘suitor’ now that the temperatures are falling and men are starting to idle. You hate it, how they seem determined to get you - or rather, your land. Thinking they can marry you and take what is yours since it’s unheard of for a woman to not be protected by any man. You notice your basket of wood is low and decide that once you shoo away the eligible bachelor, you will fill it up before the sun sets. “What do you want?” You demand as you open the door.

“Señora, buenas noches. I - my name is Pero Tovar-”

You huff and slam the door in his face with a “I am not interested in a husband.”

Pero frowns, knocking on the door again. “Señora-” He leans in to speak through the door, “I am not here to ask for your hand, I am here to ask for shelter. I have coins. I can assist before the snow falls. I simply ask for somewhere to stay for the winter.”

You stop short, tilting your head in surprise that he is not wanting to marry you. Turning back around, the door opens again and you watch his face relax in relief that you are willing to talk to him. The temperature is dropping rapidly and the inn must be full if he is here. Probably one of the villagers sent him. “Coins?” You ask, raising a brow. Coins would be nice, allow you to not rely on what you can grow and trap when you need costly material or if your harvests are bad. “Show me.”

Pero nods, untying the coin purse from his belt and he opens it to display the gold coins inside. “I have plenty for my keep, señora. I just need a warm place to sleep and I will be gone before the snow melts.” He promises, knowing you won’t want him hanging around.

You gauge his appearance. He’s a mercenary. A sell sword. Surprised that he did not decide to stay in a brothel, you wonder if it was too costly, you’ve heard some men grumble they are charging too much for a tumble. His armor is dirty, matching his hair and his unsightly beard, but he’s tall, broad. You bite your lip and open your door wider. “Come inside and we will talk, but I make no promises.”

Tovar nods once, knowing he is at your mercy but he’s not prepared to beg. He wipes off his boots as he walks inside your humble cottage, the fire immediately warming him and he groans at the smell of the soup you are cooking. It’s heaven and you know it judging by your swaying hips. You’re beautiful, undeniably so, but he will respect you and your home. This is not a brothel.

You turn, watching him assess your house. It’s not a greedy gaze as he looks over everything you have, so you feel better about letting him in your home. “Where are you from Pero Tovar?” You ask, gesturing for him to sit down. Before he can answer, there is another knock on the door, this one much more demanding and you groan as you hear your name called out. It’s Jacob, the stable master. He wants your lands and you, something you are less than keen to give him. “Fuck.” You hiss, rushing to the door and opening it to the tall, lanky man. “No, I will not marry you.” You greet him with the same answer you have given him everyday he has come pounding on your door.”

Pero watches you slam the door in the man’s face and he can’t help but chuckle at your feisty nature. You huff, turning back towards Pero, “now, where were we?”

He shifts from one foot to the other, “we were discussing my staying here in exchange for coins.” He reminds you, curious about the reason why you slammed the door in the suitor’s face.

“Yes.” You nod and start walking back towards your soup. You know a hungry man when you see one and he’s practically drooling at the scent of the food. “Two of your gold coins.” You decide, reaching for a bowl and your spoon to start ladling it up. “As long as you don’t mind swinging an axe for fire wood or bringing some fresh meat to cook.” You fill the bowl to the brim and turn around to set it on the table and arch a brow at him. “Nights between my tights included.”

Pero is pleased at the first part until you finish your terms and he’s choking on his own spit. “Ex-excuse me señora, did you - I don’t - my coins are for your home, not for - not for that.” He flusters, knowing he wouldn’t take advantage of you when you are kindly offering to let him stay in your home and you aren’t married or a whore.

You hum, expecting the mercenary to jump at the chance to have a hot cunt. You shrug slightly. “Fine, if you don’t wish to bury your cock in a hot cunt, that is your own business.” You tell him bluntly, finding men prefer plainly speaking amongst themselves but are always shocked when a woman does it. “However, when you leave, I will tell the villagers that we married. Prevent the offers or demands or marriage everyday. You seem dangerous enough they will think twice about doubting it.”

Tovar rubs his hands on his leathers, shocked at how forward and blunt you are for a woman. “You wish to be married to me?” He frowns, confused by you. You don’t want to be married but you want sex and yet you want to be married to him. “Please explain, señora. I- I don’t not understand.” He swallows, looking down at the soup you placed in front of him. It smells delicious but he won’t eat until you explain.

“The men- they keep prodding me to marry them and I have no desire for it.” You move over to the bread and pick up the rest of the loaf you had baked two days ago to set it down on a plate in front of him as well. “They don’t want me- or just me. They want the land, they want to control what I have.” You roll your eyes and huff. “I am no maiden and I like sex. It feels good and I enjoy pleasure. So saying you are my husband will keep them from chasing me and while you are here, we can feel good together. When the snows melt, you can go on your way and continue to sell your sword.”

Shocked at your proposal, Pero stares at you, “you want to - you want me to stay and keep your heath burning and your cunt filled before I depart and you tell your villagers that I am your husband?” He asks and you nod, shrugging, “do you have a problem with that?” He shakes his head, “not at all. I am happy to serve.” He smiles, pleased at his luck. “I am yours for the winter, señora.” He winks, picking up the piece of bread and he digs in.

You get immense pleasure from the groans that he makes as he shovels food into his mouth. He’s a sloppy eater, but you account that to his lifestyle. There must be times where he feels like he must bolt his food down, so you turn and fill up your own bowl with soup and set it down across from him. “There is plenty more.” You assure him as he tears another hunk off the bread. “I will be baking more bread in the morning.”

“Señora-” Pero groans, “you are heaven sent.” He declares as he takes another bite of the bread before he shovels more soup into his mouth. He’s starving and he is enjoying this meal. He will eagerly give you his cock in exchange for more meals like this. It’s been so long since he had a home cooked meal that wasn’t in a tavern. “Why do you not wish to marry?” He asks, his own opinion being that every woman wanted to marry.

“Why would I?” You scoff slightly. “I marry and everything I have becomes his. In the eyes of the Church he could leave me in rags and beat me while he whores his days away at the brothels and there is nothing I can do.” You shake your head. “I do not wish to marry until a man comes along who can think of nothing but me.”

Tovar stares at you, your features are beautiful, especially in the moonlight, and he hums in agreement. “Men are incapable of keeping their cocks dry while away from their wife. It’s physically impossible.” He has no illusions of grandeur about being faithful to one’s wife but he also has a moral code. “That’s why I will not marry. I do not wish to see the disappointment on my wife’s face when she discovers I have been with another. I sell my sword. I travel. I cannot afford a wife, a home, a family. I am surviving and I will be punished in hell if I dragged an innocent woman into my life when she had expectations of me.”

“At least you are honest about it” You start to eat your food and look him over. Unable to really tell his features underneath all the hair, you want to offer him a bath but it is too late for that tonight. “However, I do not have to take a husband, so I will not.”

“I understand, señora. I will be your imaginary husband upon my departure.” He winks at you and you chuckle, tearing off another piece of bread.

“It’s a deal. You may stay until the snow melts.”

Tovar grins, pleased to hear he has a home for the winter, “if possible…tomorrow…I would like to bathe.”

“I will insist on it.” Thank God he is not the type to have a superstition about cleanliness. “Tonight I will pour a pitcher of water for you to clean up briefly and I will see how your tongue feels against my cunt before you fuck me.”

Pero shakes his head, “señora…I do not sample the cunt I am about to fuck. If you wish to have my cock, you shall have it but my tongue will remain my own.” He never licked the cunt of the whores he bought for the night and he shan’t start now.

Instead of frowning, you shrug. “Then I do not want your cock.” You tell him bluntly. “Most men last but a few moments and leave their women unsatisfied. I am not a woman you paid for pleasure, so none you shall have.” You tell him, spooning another mouthful of the soup into your mouth. Are you disappointed? Surely, but you are not going to play the whore and get nothing for yourself.

Pero sighs, “señora…I am unskilled in what you are asking. A man like me…I am not practiced in oral skills. It’s not what I’ve paid for. My first woman was a whore, she let me fuck her for thirty seconds and then she taught me how to control myself. I never tasted her cunt.” He confesses, knowing you won’t want him if he is unskilled.

“Do you think a woman is skilled the first time she takes a cock in her mouth or cunt?” You ask, amused by his confession. Sex is sloppy and can be fun, if you let it be. Enjoyable and addicting with the right person. “No matter, if you wish to not learn, that is your choice.”

Pero bites his lip, considering your words, and he sighs, “I would like to learn.” He admits, “if you will have me.” He tells you, knowing it will be a long winter with just his fist when you are a beautiful woman offering him a warm bed and a warm cunt. Oral is hardly a deal breaker for him, he’s just unskilled.

“I will not push you to do anything you do not want.” You hum, but he shakes his head. It would be good for you to teach him something new. He could be very popular in the brothels. “However, if you use your mouth, you might find yourself not paying as much as your companions for a cunt each night.” You add, smirking slightly.

Pero nods, “that is true, hermosa.” He calls you beautiful because you are and his cock twitches at your smirk. “I will - I will earn my keep.” He promises with his own smirk before he picks up his bowl and slurps down the remainder of the broth.

The rest of the meal passes quickly, you get up and pour another bowl of soup for Pero. Setting down in front of him with a smile before you finish your own bowl. “You have a horse, I assume?” You ask, wanting to make sure the horse is taken care of. “I have room in the barn with the goat and chickens.”

“Sí Señora, I have a horse. I will place him in your stable before bedtime. You are a very good cook.” He compliments you, smiling before he digs into the next bowl. It’s been so long since he’s had a good meal and you are looking like an angel sent from heaven for him.

“Thank you.” You smile as you watch him for another moment. “I grow all the vegetables and herbs and the meat is one of my older hens.”

Pero hums, continuing to eat. When he’s finished, you take his bowl and he makes his way outside to handle his horse, ensuring the stallion is secure in the stable with feed. He comes back in with a shiver from the incoming storm to find you warming water for him.

“Tomorrow we will bring in more water for a proper bath but I know you wouldn’t want to bathe off in cold water.” You know you hate it and avoid it when possible unless the temperature is sweltering. “After you bathe, I can wash and mend any clothes that need repairing.” Once the snow blows in, you will need to find things to keep your mind and hands occupied. Most of your sewing happened during the winter months.

“Gracias señora.” He tells you with a soft smile, grateful to you for allowing him to be here and have this shelter during the harsh months ahead. Even if he has to pleasure you, it won’t be a hardship considering how beautiful you are. He strips off, uncaring of you seeing him since you will see him naked anyway.

You hum to yourself as you gather a crock of soap and rags for washing. He is broad, just like you expected. A hint of softness that you preferred over sinew and the scars that are scattered over his body speak to a harsh life lead spent in battles. You will clean up yourself but give him privacy to give himself a good scrubbing where necessary.

He can feel your eyes on him as he strips down, making him smirk before he grabs the rag, soaking it in the warm water as he scrubs off weeks of dirt from his skin. He groans at the feeling of freshness and wets the rag again, washing his cock and balls to ensure you would want to touch him. When he’s finished cleaning himself off, he walks into your bedroom to find you with a gown wrapped around you. “I’m clean, hermosa.”

You turn and look him over. “I see that you are.” You bite your lip as you take in the sight of his flaccid cock and watch him start to stir to life. Unwrapping the gown from your body, you toss it across a trunk to reveal that you are as nude as he is. Your own cleaning had been quicker, since it is a part of your nightly routine before bed and when you rise in the mornings. “I take it you are ready for your first lesson?”

Pero’s dark eyes trail along your body, biting his lip as he looks at you, admiring your breasts down to the curls between your legs. “Yes, señora.” His cock starts to harden at seeing you smirk and you pat the bed beside you. He shifts from one foot to the other before he confidently strides over to you, a smirk on his face as he hovers over you, leaning down to press his lips to yours, his tongue immediately sliding into your mouth.

You shudder slightly, the hair from his beard tickling your skin but you don’t mind it. Tomorrow you will ask if he wants a trim and a shave. His tongue is insistent, making you think that it will feel good against your cunt. Reaching down, you wrap your hand around his hardening cock and squeeze him gently, making him groan into your mouth before you fondle his balls and feel how heavy they are.

Pero groans as you fondle him, his cock twitching and he reaches for your tit, squeezing it and pinching the nipple. “Hermosa.” He groans against your jaw while you continue to fondle him. He reaches for your waist, lifting you up onto the bed in the middle so he can spread your thighs. His cock is now hard and he grips it as he positions himself between your thighs.

“Wait.” Your thighs close and you are pushing him back and shaking your head. “I am not taking that cock until I’m ready.” You remind him. “I’m not a whore you’ve paid for a fuck.” You reach for his hand and guide it to the curls covering your sex. “Have you fingered a woman before?”

He huffs, “señora, I don’t - I want be inside of you.” He is impatient. It’s been a long time since he was inside of a hot cunt and he is eager to cum after so many months of his fist.

You nearly roll your eyes but manage to stop yourself. Deciding that flattery would be better to sue on this Spaniard rather than sarcasm. “I know you do, but your cock would hurt if I’m not ready.” You coo, biting your lip. “You have a large cock and it has been some time since I have taken a man.”

Pero smirks at hearing he has a large cock. He concedes, trailing his hand along your thigh until he fingers your folds and he rubs your clit, knowing it’s pleasurable for women. His movements are awkward, unrehearsed since he is uneducated in female pleasure.

The man rubs your clit for nearly fifteen seconds before he is plunging two fingers into your cunt hard enough to make you gasp. It’s a frantic few pumps of his fingers, barely allowing your walls to stretch out to take them easier before he is pulling them free, shifting to his knees and grabbing his cock again. “No-” You shake your head, disappointed that he didn’t listen to what you wanted and is being selfish. “You can- this is not going to happen tonight obviously. You can take care of your pleasure because I will be taking care of mine.” You scoff as you move away from him and kick at his hip with your foot, pushing him away from you.

Pero huffs in frustration but respects your decision. He shifts off of the bed, his cock now aching, and he walks over to the cot you set up for him in the corner of the room. Sitting down on it, he wraps his fingers around his cock, squeezing once before letting go. “I’m sorry señora. I am not - I am not trained for this.” He apologizes, knowing he should’ve let you lead.

You huff, annoyed and you shut your eyes. “Just fist your cock, Pero Tovar.” You tell him as you slide your own hand between your thighs, rubbing your clit and whimpering quietly when you find the perfect spot. “Tomorrow- we will- we will try to see if you- can listen.” You moan breathlessly, aware that you are pleasuring yourself while he is still awake as punishment for not being patient.

Pero watches you, ashamed of his behavior as he starts to jerk his cock. Your cunt is glistening and he actually wants to taste you but that will have to wait until tomorrow. He grunts as he jerks his cock, groaning your name as he works himself towards his orgasm.

Your thighs shift and you hum as your hips start to roll up to meet your hand. "I could have- have stroked your cock while you did this." You pant out as you work your clit with your fingers. "Or when you licked my cunt- I could have- could have taken you in my mouth." You moan softly, feeling your folds get wetter.

“Mierda.” Pero curses himself for being so stupid and giving that up. He makes a promise to himself that he will learn how to pleasure you. He knows you’re a woman of your word and you will pleasure him. He simply has to give to you before you give to him. “Yo quiero - I want to learn, señora. Tomorrow - show - show me how to pleasure you.” He pleads, tightening his grip on his cock after he spits into his palm.

“You- you spit into your hand, to make it slicker.” You groan, “it is the same for when you pleasure a woman. Makes- makes it slick, wet. It hurts when you jerk your cock dry, does it- it not?” You ask, hoping to make him realize why it is important. “Im-imagine that pain inside you.”

Tovar winces at the thought, understanding why you need to be prepared. “The - the whores I’ve fucked were already wet. I did not need to prepare them.” He explains, “you are not a whore, I promise…I will prepare you. However you require.” He vows, his dark eyes fixed on your cunt while you rub your clit.

“Good.” You open your eyes, looking down and finding him watching you. His hard cock is flushed and leaking, nearly purple as he pumps it in his fist. “We will- will spend many hours in bed this winter I think.” You predict, mouth opening and crying out in pleasure just a moment later.

Pero hisses at your cry of pleasure, your thighs shaking and he hisses in response to the beautiful sound. “Fuck, hermosa.” He pumps his cock a few more times before he is spilling his seed onto the wooden floorboards and his fists.

You whine as you drag out your orgasm, chest heaving as your hips buck up. Watching the pearlescent cum spill over on his fingers in long spurts. Your fingers slow down and your hips shuffle back down to the bed as you pant. “Hmmmmm.” You sigh lazily as you pull your fingers from your cunt and lick them clean, used to your own taste.

“Fuck.” Tovar groans as he works himself through his orgasm while you lick your fingers. He wants to bury his face in your cunt and taste for himself but he ruined his chance tonight. He has to make peace with that and accept his punishment. “Tomorrow.” He vows, finally releasing his cock and his hand is sticky from his seed.

Climbing off the bed, you pull your shift over your head and pull on your slippers before you grab some extra rags to set near the washbowl. “For you to clean up.” You murmur softly, striding past him to put the bar on the door and to have another dipper of water from the pail before you bank the fire.

After working on cleaning himself up, Tovar cleans the floorboards and tosses the dirty rags in the corner with the others. He grabs his nightshirt and pulls it on, watching as you get into your bed and he follows suit on the cot in the corner. “Buenas noches, señora. Thank you for - for letting me stay.” He tells you before you nod, blowing out the candle by your bedside.

“Good night, Pero.” You murmur in response, wondering what he will look like under the mountain of hair he sports. “Tomorrow is a new day.” You hum in the darkness, quickly falling asleep after your orgasm.

****

When the sun shines into his eyes, Pero wakes with a groan. The cot is the nicest place he’s slept for months and he’s reluctant to get up but he also needs to earn his keep. After dressing, he finds you in the main living area at the fire. “Good morning hermosa, can I help?” He asks, knowing that today is a new day and he will make sure you are satisfied with him…in every way.

You look up from adding wood to the fire and smile. “Good morning.” You offer, standing and moving to the table where the bread you have kneaded is rising. “If you don’t mind checking the animals. I will drag the tub in and we can fill it.” The heavy wooden tube is leaning against the side of the house where you store it. It’s easier than trying to lift it onto the hook where your father had hung it. “I’ll chop wood while the bread bakes and the water heats up.” The leftover soup from last night and a bit of cheese is what’s for breakfast this morning.

Pero nods, “sí, señora.” Knowing better than to argue with you, he makes his way out to the table and he takes a seat, smiling at you as he picks up some cheese. “Would you like me to chop the wood?” He asks, wanting to help you however he can.

You smile and nod. “That would be most helpful.” You admit with a pleased look on your face as you slide the bread into the flat alcove of the hearth to bake . Turning, you sit down to your own bowl of soup sitting on the table. “Then it will just be getting the bath water warm and starting our meal to simmer all day.” You tilt your head to the side and watch him. “Did you sleep well?”

“I did.” You are surprised at his manners. He eats fast and hunched over his bowl but you had expected conversations consisting of grunts and huff words. It was rare to find a man who asked about more than his next meal or getting his cock wet. “I am glad you enjoyed the cot I set up. I was afraid your feet would hang off it.”

Chuckling, Pero sets the bowl down, “I was comfortable. Much more comfortable than the ground. And it’s warm. It’s more than a man like me could need.” He promises, breaking off some cheese. “We have much to do today señora, I shall get started.” He stands up after draining the bowl, and he makes his way outside to begin the chores you assigned him.

The snow has not fallen yet but there is the scent of it in the air. Humming as you go about your chores, it’s nice to have someone help, not leaving it all on your shoulders. Dragging the tub in while Pero is in the barn dealing with the livestock, you are lucky that a well was dug on your farm, your relatives making it convenient many years ago - especially since it is now just you. Gathering your buckets, you start drawing buckets of water to warm, also filling the barrel next to the door that is kept for easy access.

Pero feeds the livestock, ensuring the barn is secure and makes a few repairs before he heads back towards the cottage to cut wood. He gathers the logs first and sets them in a pile then he begins to chop, grunting and cursing when a log is being particularly difficult.

There is something to be said for watching a man work. His leathers are the first thing that come off, making you bite your lip at the broadness of his shoulders again. Picturing the sight that you had last night of him nude as the loaves of bread cool and you chop vegetables for the meat and vegetable pies you are planning for dinner tonight. He will probably eat an entire one himself. The buckets of water boil and you start to fill up the tub. It will take half the day, but it will still be hot by the time he gets done.

Pero wipes his brow after he places the logs on top of the other, stacking them until there is plenty. It’s hard work but he’s not unfamiliar with it, having done this as a young man for his parents before they passed and he left to sell his sword. He inhales deeply, the cool air hitting his cheeks and he looks back towards the cottage. You are a confusing woman, not wanting a husband to protect you, to breed you, but he understands. He is not conventional, he doesn’t want a wife, a child. He wants coins. A ruthless life perhaps but at least he’s honest with himself. After cleaning up the axe, he makes his way back into the house.

The Spaniard comes back inside just as you are pinching the crusts of the pies closed, also making some fruit pies for dessert. Those are already baking over the fire and you smile as you dust your floured hands off on your apron. “The water is almost ready.” You hustle over to take another large cauldron of steaming water and pour it into the large tub followed by another bucket of cooler water into the cauldron to heat. “Thank you. You are much faster at chopping wood than I am.”

Pero smiles, pleased you are happy with his performance and he watches you fill the tub. “Señora…would you mind cutting my hair?” He asks, knowing his locks are down to his shoulders and it’s too much. He needs it cut off so he can clean up properly.

Nodding, you pick up the shears you use to cut fabric from your sewing basket and motion towards him. “If you wish, I can cut your beard down as well.”

“Please, señora.” He nods and he sits down at the kitchen table, eager to get the scruff of his face and head. When you step closer, he inhales the scent of you and his cock twitches in his breeches, leathers discarded at the door from how overheated he was. He watches you as you start to trim his hair, unconcerned about the shears in your hand.

You run your fingers through his hair, chopping off great hunks of it so you can get the bulk off. You will go back and trim to clean it up. Furrowing your brow as his face starts to emerge from the curtain of hair, you find that he’s handsome and his mouth is almost delicate. “Hmmm.”

“Feels a lot better already.” He confesses, closing his eyes as you work on chopping off the matted locks he accumulated from months of traveling. “You are very kind. I’m surprised you haven’t been taken advantage of.” He confesses, looking up at you.

“Some have tried.” You admit, giving a small shrug of your shoulders. “They came to regret it before they took their last breaths.” They had failed to realize that your parents raised you to be tough, to be able to protect yourself. It was their mistake.

Unable to stop himself, Pero smirks at your ballsy nature, the fighter is apparent and he admires it. Far too many women rely on a man to protect them but you are strong willed and feisty. He likes that. “Poor bastards.” He chuckles, admiring you.

“Indeed.” You smirk slightly before you start to trim up the hair more neatly. “I will let you decide what to do with your face.” You tell him. “But the hair will be easier to manage.”

Pero hums, “it feels better already. Thank you, hermosa.” He tells you with a soft smile and he squeezes your free hand. “Do you have a blade?” He asks, wanting to shave while he’s at it before he gets into the tub.

“I do.” You step over to the table and reach for the clean dagger that you had laying there. It’s sharp, sharp enough to cut a man’s throat if he is not careful. Flipping it over, you catch the blade in your hand and extend it to him, handle first.

Pero thanks you and begins to cut off the masses of beard that had grown during his time without a blade. He grunts, working it down until he can use the tip of the blade to work the smaller hair off of his cheeks. When he’s finished, he looks over at you and tilts his head, “how does it look?”

“Good.” He is attractive. His jaw is strong and sharp, fitting with the nose that hooks slightly. The scar over his left eye doesn’t detract from his appearance, instead adds to the image of a dangerous, powerful man. “If you were in a brothel, the women would be fighting over who gets to fuck you.”

He can’t help but blush, unused to such compliments, especially from a beautiful woman, and it enforces his decision to please you later. He smiles, “I’d like to think you might consider fighting over me.” He murmurs, coy despite his hardened demeanor.

“Hmmm, your cock is thick and girthy.” You hum, your hips swaying slightly as you have grabbed your broom and start sweeping away the hair to clean up. “Undress and get in the tub.” You order him. “Relax and scrub your body. There is more water heating to rinse off and I will pour more in if you need.”

He quickly strips off, leaving his clothes on the chair he sat on. With a groan, Pero sinks into the tub of hot water, leaning back against the wood and he relaxes for the first time in months. He closes his eyes, just savoring the warmth while you sweep up around him.

Smirking to yourself, you watch as the mercenary named Pero Tovar visibly melts in the bath tub. His arms are braced around the edges of the tub and his head rolled back, exposing his throat. You wonder when the man has really let go and unwound like he is doing now. Setting the broom in the corner, you move over to the jug of mead you have open and pour out a cup. Heaven knows you enjoy having a cup when you are soaking in your own bath.

When you prod him and offer him the mug, he groans in appreciation and thanks you before he takes a sip. “Eres un ángel.” He murmurs, relaxing even more and he’s in no rush to get out of the tub. He soaks for an hour, until his skin is prune-like, then he finally washes with the bar of soap you gave him.

The fruit pies are cooling on the table and you are pulling your own extra shift out to wash, the bucket for your clothes already filled will warm water and you dump the things that Pero had been wearing into it with a generous heap of your lye soap for laundry. It wasn’t like the soap you made for washing yourself with herbs and flowers mixed in, although his clothes would smell better than they currently do.

Pero watches you as you bend over, scrubbing his clothes, and he decides that he will give you pleasure tonight...however you want it. He smiles, finishing up his washing up before he stands, water dripping off of his body. "Do you have rags to dry off, hermosa?"

“I do.” Turning, you stare for a moment as the rivers of water cascade down his body. “I- I’ll get them for you.” You stand and hurry over to your truck, shaking your head at forgetting to get them for him earlier. “Here.”

He takes them, drying himself off and his cock twitches as he watches you bending over to wash the clothes. "Hermosa." He shifts to hover over you, not imposing, just there. When you look up, he hopes you see the lust in his eyes, "let me - I want to taste you."

You are surprised that he is being so open about wanting to try and you smirk in approval. “I am surprised that you don’t want to eat food before you eat cunt.” You hum teasingly. “Are you sure you want to learn before it is dark outside?”

Pero nods, “I am eager to learn señora. We have many nights ahead of us with winter and I wish to know what makes you moan, I want to know your taste so we might prepare ourselves for being trapped in the cottage. I do not wish to be selfish. Show me.” He asks, reaching for your hand.

“Very charming answer.” You joke with a small smile. Nodding, you motion towards the bed. “Go wait, I must wash as well.” You will not have him eat unwashed cunt, especially since it is his first time. While you are moderately clean, it would not hurt to wash.

Pero nods, making his way over to your cot and he sits down to wait for you to wash up. He is still naked, uncaring of his nudity as he patiently awaits your return from the tub. He knows what to do, the mechanics of it, but he’s never really experienced it first hand, always rushing to seek his own pleasure.

You don’t hurry, knowing that he will wait for as long as he needs to in order to be able to touch you. Using a clean rag, you wash every inch of your skin and make sure you wash your cunt. You want this to be a good experience for him. Drying off and foregoing getting dressed again, confidently moving about your home with no care for your nudity. During the summer, you often spent all night without clothes on.

Tovar looks up when you walk into the bedroom area of your cottage, his breath hitching at how utterly beautiful you are. His cock starts to harden but he ignores his arousal in favor of satisfying you. “Tell me what you desire, hermosa.” He demands, voice already raspy with lust.

You smile and step closer, making Pero’s thighs spread for you to stand between them. “First, I want to kiss you.” You murmur, leaning in and finding the lack of excess hair vastly pleasing compared to the kisses last night. “Then, I want you to suck on my breasts.”

Pero obeys with a nod, keeping his arms to his sides as he kisses you back, trying to keep his tongue less frantic than last night and just savor the feel of you in between his legs. His fingers twitch when your tongue tangles with his, languid and so very erotic compared to his selfish pecks while he’s undoing his breeches.

Your fingers tangle into his freshly washed and cut hair, making him groan into your mouth when you tug on it. His arms don’t come around you, so you let go of his hair and take his hands and place them on your tits before you sink your fingers into the curly strands again.

He eagerly squeezes your tits, groaning your name as you pull back for a moment until you press your lips to his again. He moans eagerly, squeezing the flesh until his fingers pinch each nipple, delighting in the gasp you push into his mouth which is soon leaving yours to trail kisses along your neck and down to your check. He takes one nipple into his mouth, sucking harshly, maybe a little too hard, but he’s eager to please.

You hiss slightly, tugging on his hair but you don’t stop him. Loving how his tongue rolls around your nipple, you imagine his tongue on your cunt.” “Fuck.” You moan when he pinches your nipple as he sucks on the other. “More”

He follows your orders, switching over to the other breast and he pinches the one he was sucking on, letting his teeth sink in for a moment before he soothes it with his tongue. His cock is hardening, now aching with need for you but he can’t be selfish, he owes you for letting him stay in your home.

“Yes.” You gasp, stomach clenching at the nip of his teeth. Your folds are already dampening but you are eager to feel his tongue. “Stop.” You insist quietly. “I want to lay down and have you eat my cunt.”

He groans, reluctantly pulls away from your breast and he leans back to look up at you, mouth glistening with his saliva, and he watches you as you make your way around the bed to lay down. He spins, kneeling on the bed and he groans when you spread your legs. “Tell me what you want.”

You aren’t shy about pulling your folds apart and exposing your engorged clit. “Here is where I find the most pleasure.” You tell him, circling it with your index finger. “I want you to lick it, suck in it, but don’t bite. You don’t like teeth on your cock, do you?”

He shakes his head, shifting to lay down on his stomach, and he looks up at you for a moment until he shifts closer, tentatively flicking his tongue over your bundle of nerves. Your answering moan spurs him on and he flicks his tongue over your clit again and again.

Again, your hands are in his hair, guiding you where you want him. He’s inexperienced, just like he had admitted to being, but the raw enthusiasm has your hips bucking up and your panted gasps turning into moans.

Following your orders, he sucks on your clit, his tongue then sliding down to circle your entrance and he hums at your tangy arousal, his hard cock pressed into the mattress. He grinds into it but knows he has to make you cum, he wants to make you cum. He slides his tongue up to suck on your clit, pursing his lips around the sensitive nerves.

“Oh fuck,” you whine, eyes closing in pleasure and your finger grip his hair tighter. “I- once we fuck, you can- the next time I’ll suck your cock while you do this.” You promise, imagining his moans into your cunt while your mouth is around him.

Now that makes Pero fucking ache to be inside of you, the thought of his face in your cunt while you suck his cock. He fucking loves that idea and tells you that without removing his mouth. Groaning into your folds, he continues licking and sucking, listening to your moans as he figures out what you like.

A shudder runs up your spine while Pero learns your cunt. The tell-tale sign of your body priming itself to come apart. You’re vocal, moaning and writhing under his hands as they grip your hips while you shamelessly roll your cunt against his mouth. “Pero- oh God, you- your mouth is- oh fuck!” You gasp, nearly choking on your breath when he sucks on your clit again and sends you over the edge and your entire body stiffens while your cunt pulses and soaks itself.

He grunts into your mouth, swearing that hearing you fall apart is going to make him spill his seed onto your sheets but he manages to hold back, working you through your orgasm with harsh sucks. It becomes too much and you have to shove his head away but he still licks your hole to sample your cum. “Did you enjoy that, hermosa?” He asks, wanting to make sure he did that right.

“Yes.” You pants, closing your eyes and smiling up at the beams above your head lazily. “Feel how wet I am? You will feel so good sliding into my cunt now.”

“I can-?” He doesn’t want to push you as he shifts to kneel on the bed. His cock is hard, leaking, and almost purple at the head from how aroused he is. “Hermosa…how do you want me to fuck you?” He asks, letting you lead again.

Reaching down, you wrap your hand around his cock and the man in front of your growls. His hips buck forward and you give him a good, rough squeeze. “My legs on your hips. I want to see your face when you cum for the first time inside me.”

“Fuck. Do you- I need to pull out?” He assumes, knowing you wouldn’t want a child unless you have the same herbs the brothels provide their workers. He shifts closer, cock twitching in your grip.

“I have a brew that I make.” You promise him, knowing that you will start stepping pots of the herbs to prevent a child. “You do not have to spill your seed on my belly unless you wish to.”

“I want to. Just in case. I don’t want to leave you with child.” He murmurs, caressing your thigh as his dark eyes meet yours. He shuffles closer, batting your hand from his cock and he swipes the exposed head through your folds, making you squirm, and he chuckles before his groan escapes his lips as he starts to push inside of you.

Even as slick as you are, he is thick inside you. Making your walls yield to his stiff length as he breaks you open. Leaning forward, his arms brace on either side of your body as he slides into you, moving down to his elbows and stilling when his cock is pushed in as far as he can go. “Fuck.” You pant breathlessly.

“Fuck.” He echoes. Your cunt is so tight around him, it takes his breath away, and he groans when your walls flutter while they try to adjust to his girth. This is much better than last night with his fist, your slick cunt gripping him and it’s easier when he pulls his hips back then pushes back into you.

You know he is not going to last past a dozen thrusts. He has been used to nothing but his fist and before that it was whores in brothels who didn’t mind him finishing quickly. It was another reason why you insisted on pleasure before he fucked you. That way you were not left wanting and unsatisfied. “Fuck me.” You pant. “I want to see how you fuck.”

Your cunt is heaven, he knows that now, so when you tell him to fuck you, he clenches his jaw and rocks deep into you, grunting as he works his cock into you with deep, hard thrusts that push you up the cot.

Every thrust pushes a moan out of you. When he has some control, you will enjoy the heavy, frantic pace that he beats himself into your cunt. Now your legs just loosely wrap around his hips and you let him use you, deliberately clenching your walls around him.

Pero pants when you grip him, “mierda. Hermosa. Lo- lo siento.” He growls out just before he thrusts deep into you, moaning your name before he forces himself to pull out in time. Wrapping his fingers around his cock, he pumps himself while his hot seed hits your belly and spurts onto your tits.

You watch him, fascinated with the way he hisses and his jaw clenched as he cums. His eyes fluctuate between fluttering closed and watching his seed paint your skin. Your hand moved when he pulled back, caressing his thigh as his body tenses and flexes as he cums.

Pero grunts as he works himself through his orgasm until his hand falls away from his cock, his chest heaving from the pleasure as his dark eyes focus on you. “Hermosa. Covered in my seed. So beautiful.” He compliments you, smiling at you with glassy, pleasured eyes.

“It is a good thing we have warm water.” You chuckle, amazed at much of his seed he had covered you with. It had to be more than he had spurted out last night when he had jerked off. “How are you feeling? Was it worth licking my cunt?”

With his own chuckle, pero nods and lays down beside you. “Definitely worth that, hermosa.” He promises, “I will lick your cunt every day if you allow me the pleasure of being inside you. You are - it’s incredible.” He tells you with a blissed out sigh.

You smirk, happy that you could change the mind of the mercenary. He hadn’t lasted long, but once he was used to fucking you, he was going to become a good lover. “Rest.” You command, leaning over and pressing your lips to his. “When your cock recovers, I want it inside me again while dinner bakes.”

Pero smirks, “insatiable.” He isn’t angry about that, glad to help you since you have given him a place to stay. He kisses you one last time before he settles back against your pillows, groaning at the way his entire body hums with relaxation.

You climb out of the bed and walk over to the tub so you can clean up. Wetting a rag and scrubbing the cum from your body as you look over to find him resting easy on your bed with his hands folded behind your pillows. He looks relaxed which you are glad for. “Do you hunt, Pero? Can I call you Pero or do you prefer to go by Tovar?”

“I respond to either one, señora.” He replies but can admit to himself that hearing you say his given name makes his stomach twist. “Pero. I want you to call me Pero.” He decides, smiling at you as you clean yourself up.

“Pero it is.” You decide as you finish cleaning yourself and put your shift on so you can finish the washing. “So, if you wish to hunt, I would be grateful.”

“I can hunt. Perhaps we can dry some meat for the winter? I can go out tomorrow and see what I can find before the snow falls.” He offers, closing his eyes as you finish washing the clothes and he briefly imagines a life like this, spent in your bed and by the fire. Tending to the land and not worrying about dying from a stab wound. He indulges until he remembers how much he desires coin, how much he wants to provide for himself.

“That will be good. I have some small game and some dried fish but I finished the last of the venison a week ago.” You string the clothes across a line in front of the fire to dry. “I can make the skin into some warm leathers for you.” You have plenty of your own warm skins from previous animals and it would be something he could take with him when he leaves.

Pero smiles at how considerate you are, more generous than most he has met during his travels. “Gracias señora. I - you are so kind. I shall have to repay you with many many nights between your thighs.”

You smirk slightly, amused at the cocky nature of his comment. You have no doubt that he will be bragging by the time the winter is over and you develop his skills beyond quick fumbles. “I have a suspicion that this winter will be very pleasurable indeed.”

****

The snow is falling outside of the cottage, the fire burning to keep the cold at bay but it doesn’t matter when Pero has your entire body on fire from his skilled tongue. After the disaster of the first night, Pero made a vow to himself to learn what you like and he’s a quick learner. “Oh fuck!” You curse and he loves that, cock hard and aching but his tongue pushes you onto your third orgasm of the night from his fingers and tongue.

“P-Pero.” Your hoarse cry is loud and needy, almost whining as you pull against the cloths that have you lashed to the bed so you cannot touch him. It’s thrilling and infuriating, being unable to take what you want from him, to drive him crazy so he fills you with his cock like you need. Your thighs shake around his ears and your eyes desperately meet his smug brown orbs as he devours you again. “Pero!”

The Spaniard growls into your flesh, working his tongue deep inside of your cunt as your thighs shake against his ears. He loves how in control he is, completely owning your pleasure and when or if you cum. It’s intoxicating and has his cock leaking pre-cum onto the sheets. “Cum for me.” He orders, smacking his lips for a moment then he dives in to suck hard on your clit.

He rips a scream out of you as your entire body bucks and bows under the pressure of his mouth. Stars burst behind your eyes and nearly black out your vision while your cunt clamps down around the two fingers that are curled up inside you.

Pleased with himself for making you cum so hard, Pero works you through it until he is pulling back with a smug smirk. “Did you enjoy that, hermosa?” He asks you with a chuckle at your dazed expression.

“Fuck me.” You beg, tightening your thighs around him and pulling on the ties to the bed. “Pero, please, I need- I need your cock inside me. Please.” You whimper, chest heaving.

He nods, “okay, hermosa. Okay.” He relents and shifts to kneel between your legs. His cock aches and bobs as he shuffles closer until he is gripping it and notching it at your entrance, slowly pushing into you with a groan.

You moan as he fills you, your legs lifting up to perch on his hips. You love how easily he slides deep and bottoms out inside you. Learning that you love him grinding his hips as you're stuffed full and the coarse hairs at the base of his cock brush against your clit. “Pero….” You whine softly, turning your head so you can chase his lips. “Kiss me.”

He can’t deny you anything now, not after weeks - months - of being trapped in the cottage with you. He presses his lips to yours, sliding his tongue between your lips as he begins to rock his hips, thrusting slowly and deep, grinding with no rush to cum despite his cock aching.

“Yes.” You moan into his mouth as he tastes you, feeling complete and it thrills you and terrifies you all at the same time. It would be easy to imagine him staying come spring, helping you work the land and standing beside you. He’s proven himself to be skilled, in this bed and out and you love the sharp wit he surprises you with.

He knows every little moan and murmur, knowing how to work you and how to bring you down. He knows your body as well as his own and it’s going to be hard to leave come spring but you made it clear you don’t want a husband. He pants, shifting to sink even deeper, his hips shifting yours so you are folded over slightly, and he groans into your mouth when you clench around him. You’re so fucking wet and tight, it’s gonna be hard to leave you.

“Oh fuck, Peroooo.” Your gaps of pleasure when he pushes deep and hits that wonderful little spot has you twisting your wrist and grabbing onto the ties. “Yes baby, oh fuck, please. I-I need you to - to fuck me.” You babble, mouth open and another moan pouring out. “Fill me up.”

He pushes deep, wanting to feel and hear you cum apart. “That’s it hermosa. I need you - need you to soak me. You can do it. Ahora. No-now.” He pleads, feeling his balls pull up with his own orgasm and he pushes deep inside you, clenching his jaw to stop his orgasm from happening before yours.

Your toes start to curl and the squeal precedes the way your entire body seizes up. Your cunt locks down around him like an iron band and you soak him with another wave of your cum. “P-P-Pero!” You choke out with every thrust of his cock.

He groans your name, pushing deep as he cums, spilling inside of you like he has for the past week as you assured him your tea was working to prevent you becoming with child. He hisses, leaning down to press his lips to yours, stilling inside of you as his cock twitches.

Whining at the heat flooding your cunt, you kiss him back and love how he starts to soften the kiss. “So good.” You murmur, blissed out and when he pulls back, you smile up at him. You wish you could touch him, stroke his back while he comes down from his high and you relax into the bed with a small pout.

He reaches up to undo the cloth ties, rubbing your wrists and kissing your palm as he settles beside you before pulling you into his chest. “Are you okay, hermosa?” He asks softly, wanting to ensure you are satisfied and he hasn’t unknowingly harmed you.

“Perfect.” You hum, snuggling into his chest and sighing softly as you stroke his arm like you had wanted to while you were tied up. “Just like I always am.” You turn your head and kiss the scar that is three inches up above his heart, happy that it hadn’t been lower and kept you from meeting him. “We have worked up an appetite today, sí?”

Pero chuckles, nodding in agreement. “Sí, señora. You wear me out.” He leans in to kiss your forehead while you rest against him. Your kiss on that scar makes his heart thump in his chest and he prays you don’t notice. He swallows harshly, knowing that each day that passes, he will find it harder to leave you and this cottage - no, home - you have let him in.

It hasn’t been all sex. Pero has done well hunting and the skins from the animals have been cured and worked into soft leather breeches for him, sure to keep him warm when he leaves. As well as fur lined gloves and a poncho. All tokens for him to take with him when he leaves. His clothes are all mended and patched and there is another beautiful chair that he built as well as the hooks he had made for you to store your tub more efficiently. Still, you hate to think about spring coming but it is coming. You pull away from him with a reluctant sigh. “I should stir the stew.” You murmur.

He watches as you shuffle off of the bed and he wants to pull you back but he knows he shouldn’t. He has to leave, has to sell his sword and make his coins. He can’t stay in this world with you. It’s not what he envisioned for his life.

****

Pero looks out of the window with a sigh, the snow is melting, the sun is shining outside and it’s time for him to go. He glances over at you, watching as you work on sewing the hem of your shift where he had accidentally ripped it last night when he was eager to make you fall apart on his tongue. “Hermosa…it’s time.” He announces softly despite it breaking his heart.

It takes you a moment, your sewing needle still before you fold your shift over and set it down. “I- I must get you some provisions together then.” You tell him, trying to force a smile on your face when your heart is shattering. You had fallen for Pero and wish him to stay but he is obviously eager to go out and sell his sword and try his skills on the whores in the brothels. Standing, you rush over to the hearth so he doesn’t see the tears in your eyes. “I will make it quick.”

He watches you go, the words he wants to say are on the tip of his tongue but he can’t say them. He can’t risk it. He swallows them down and watches you rush around the cabin until he forces himself to get ready, dressing in the leathers you had made him instead of the comfortable breeches and loose shirt he’s become accustomed to wearing.

You give him the best of what you can. Wrapping cheese and bread up. Quite a bit of the dried meat that was left. He was traveling and you could cook whenever, where he was unable to. The saddle bag is nearly bursting by the time you are done and you have put off the inevitable, Pero is leaving.

While you were preparing for his departure, Pero made his way out to the stable to ready his stallion who has rested for the winter, raring to get back on the road as he neighs when Pero places the saddle on the steed. He guides the horse to your front door and you stand there with the saddle bag which he soon attaches. “Hermosa…I don’t know how to thank you for letting me stay.” He says as he stands in front of you again.

“It was my pleasure.” You tease, begging yourself not to cry in front of him. There was no promises made of love or commitment. He has said he would leave and you had said you wanted no man, it would not be fair to convince him to stay where he did not want to be. Stepping closer, you adjust the poncho on his shoulders and run your hand down the leather and small, lovingly crafted stitches. “Take care of yourself Pero Tovar, and make sure you please the whore you bed.” You remind him. “It will save you coin.”

Pero tries to commit your face to memory and he offers you a small smile, “no matter who she is…she will never compare to you.” He allows himself that one moment then reaches for the coin purse on his belt, “this is for you.” He hands you several coins, “for letting me stay.”

He’s given you too much and you shake your head. “Two coins.” You remind him, trying to hand the others back but he just pushes your extended hand away. “Keep them, hermosa.” He insists and you wish you were keeping him. Clutching the coins, you throw your arms around him and kiss him one last time. Desperate and needy before you pull away. “God be with you. Stay safe.” You whisper softly.

He presses his lips to yours one last time, nudging his nose against yours, and finally, he kisses your forehead. “Gracias señora.” He murmurs, forcing himself to pull away. He wants to beg you to let him stay but he has to go, he has to sell his sword. Without another word, he turns and straddles his horse, looking down at you as he kicks the side of his stallion to begin his journey away from you. It kills him to ride away from you but he makes a silent vow that he will return to you.

****

It’s getting colder and Pero rides north towards your cottage coming Christmastide again. Winter is coming and he longs to see you. He hasn’t stopped selling his sword so he could earn enough coins to return to you. He arrives in the village near your home and the villagers greet him with smiles. “Ah, the husband has returned.” One says, remembering him from the prior year.

Pero frowns until he remembers that you were going to tell the town that he was your husband. He likes the idea of that and he nods, “yes. I’m back for my beautiful wife.” He smiles from atop his horse and the woman winks at him, “and I am certain you are eager to see the babe.” That makes Pero’s frown return and he offers her an awkward smile before riding to your cottage. A child? Perhaps you have moved on. Maybe he’s too late. His heart thumps as he ties up his horse and steps over to your door, hand hovering until he gets the guts to knock.

The baby squawks indignantly at the harsh knock on the door, your nipple pulled from his mouth for a split second before he frantically searches for it again. Settling down once he is sucking again as you stand and make your way to the door to open it cautiously. There have been no offers of marriage since last year but you are wary of anyone coming round. “Ye- Pero?” Your eyes widen as the man you have thought about for a year stands in your doorway.

His dark eyes widen as he looks down at the babe in your arms. The mass of dark hair just like his and he inhales sharply. “Señora.” He murmurs, staring at the baby for a moment until his eyes meet yours. “Is he - the villagers said - have you-?” He can’t believe what he is seeing.

Your eyes soften slightly at the shock that you see reflected in his face. You had discovered you were carrying his babe long after he had left and you could not track him down. You had thought you would never see him again but you had his child. “You have a son, if you wish to know him.” You won’t assume that he wants to be involved with his bastard since you weren’t actually married. The lie had allowed you to live respectfully and you were grateful for that alone.

Pero stares at you in disbelief, a wide grin appearing on his face after a moment. “Of course I want to get to know him. I want to be his father. I’ve - you are all I have thought about, señora. I haven’t been able to think of anything but you. I want you…I haven’t been to any brothels and I saved my coins so I could return to you, ask you to let me be your husband…officially.”

Shocked, you gape at him for a long moment until your son unlatches from your breast with a gurgle that makes you look down at him. “He is four months old.” You explain, looking back up at a Pero and shifting the baby so you can hold him out to his father. “I named him after you.” You admit quietly.

Pero has fought battles against mythical creatures and violent men who sought to kill him but there’s nothing that has him more nervous than taking his son into his arms. He swallows harshly, tears stinging in his eyes as he looks at the little boy in his arms who yawns and blinks those dark eyes just like Pero’s. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t here, hermosa.” He murmurs, not even looking at you as he keeps his gaze on the baby.

You pull your shift back up over your breast and start lacing it back up. “You did not know. I did not know when you left. I had been drinking the herbs, but your seed is apparently strong.” You smile at the sight of your son in his father’s arms. It’s not a sight you believed you would ever see. “It was not a hard time carrying him. And the birth was fairly quick according to the midwife.”

Pero is glad to hear that you were well during the birth and he wants to surge forward and kiss you but he doesn’t know if you want him. He says your name, making you inhale sharply, and he looks up from the babe who is now asleep in his father’s arms. “I intended to return to you to marry you. Long before I knew about our child. I thought of nothing and no one but you during your travels. I want you, hermosa. I want to be yours, you to be mine. I’m not a good man but I promise to lay my sword at your feet and be with you until the day I die.”

Your lip trembles slightly and you swallow. “I wished you to stay.” You confess, stepping closer to him. “But I knew you wanted to go, so I did not say anything. During our winter I discovered I love you. I have never wished for a husband but I wish for you to be mine.”

“I did not wish to leave, I had to go. I wanted to make enough coin to provide for us for a lifetime…and I have.” He gestures to his saddlebag. “I have enough coins to provide. I saved every coin I could. I haven’t been to a brothel. I haven’t touched anyone else since I left you, señora. I couldn’t. I want you. I- I love you.”

You’re surprised that he hadn’t touched someone. It’s been a year and men like him have needs. “No one?” You choke out softly. “I would not blame you.” You promise. “There were no vows taken.”

Pero shakes his head. “They were not you, hermosa. I wanted to come back to you, this Christmastide to beg you to be mine. To let me stay and build a life with you.” You choke out a sob and lunge forward to press your lips to his with the baby cradles between your bodies.

Pero sighs into your mouth in relief, adjusting the baby onto the crook of his elbow so he can cup your cheek, kissing your properly, and it’s like he’s come home. “Te amo, hermosa.” He murmurs, kissing your forehead when you pull back. “Shall we place el niño in his bed and we can talk properly?” He suggests, looking down at the babe in his arms and he’s reluctant to let go but he also needs to touch you.

You smile, looking down at the baby and nod. “I have a little box that I have fashioned for him.” You explain as you turn and know he will follow you. “I have been hoping to have a cradle made since the one from when I was a babe was too old and rickety.”

Pero smiles, “I will make him a cradle, hermosa.” He promises, knowing it will be his greatest project yet. He follows you into the house, grateful he unsaddled his horse in the stable before arriving on your doorstep, and he watches as you place the sleeping baby in the box. His heart is pounding at the sight of you with his child. It’s more than he ever imagined during those cold nights traveling, selling his sword, and dreaming of being in your bed again.

You are slightly nervous, standing straight and wiping your hands on your apron and you smile at him. “Are you hungry? I have some pie that you preferred.” You had continued to think about Pero, smiling to yourself when you would eat his favorite meals you made.

Pero follows you into the kitchen, “I’m starving. I have ridden for the entire day to return home to you.” He reveals, completely meaning what he says. This is his home. He reaches for you, grabbing your waist to pull you close and he presses his lips to yours, tilting his head to make the kiss passionate and deep.

Moaning into his mouth, you wrap your arms around him and tug on his armor to bring him closer. Closing your eyes and giving into the kiss that you have wanted for nearly a year. He’s home, he wants to be home, to stay here with you and your son. You whimper when his tongue glides against yours and revel in the taste of him.

Pero savors the kiss he’s been waiting a year for. His hands sliding down to squeeze your ass through the slip you’re wearing and he’s tempted enough by you to kneel down on the floor, lifting up the slip before his head ducks under it so he can bury his face in your folds.

“Pero!” You gasp loudly, surprised that he is immediately licking your cunt, especially after giving birth. Holding onto the table, you moan loudly but not enough to wake the baby. “Perooooo.”

He groans at your familiar taste, his hands squeezing your ass to tilt your hips so he can push his tongue deeper inside of you. His nose pressing against your clit just like you taught him. This is all for you. All for you. He’s all for you.

Whining, you grab the edge of your skirts to pull them over his head, wanting to see him. You’ve touched yourself thinking about him since he left and now he’s here. Flicking his tongue over your clit, you feel the fuzzy edges of your orgasm rushing up. “Oh fuck!”

Pero loves hearing your pleasure, his tongue diving deep and his cock aching in his breeches and he hisses when you clench around his tongue. He desperately wants you to cum. Wants to hear it again, and again, and again. He groans into your folds and sucks harshly on your clit.

You shudder, your knees nearly buckling from the pressure and pleasure being forced on you by his mouth. Looking down to find his eyes closed as he sucks on your clit, you whimper and with a final suck, come apart for him.

He takes everything you give him, every drop, and he laps at your cunt like he hasn’t eaten during the year he’s been away. In part it’s true since he missed your cooking and he has missed you. He works you through it until you are pushing his head away, making him whine at the loss.

“God.” You grab his shoulders and you would pull him up but it would take too much effort. Dropping down to your knees with him and pressing your lips to his desperately. “Take- take your cock out.” You beg, pushing him back into the floor in front of the hearth and straddling his hips. “I need you inside me.”

He doesn’t deny you as he reaches down to untie his breeches, letting you pull his cock out of his trousers and he groans when you pump him. “Hermosa. Please. Take what you want, what I need.” He pleads, groaning when you squeeze him.

It has been nearly a full year and you’ve had a baby since you’ve taken his cock. Still, your walls clench around nothing as you roll the foreskin down to reveal the sensitive tip to slide through your folds before you notch him at your entrance. “I love you, husband.” You moan, sinking down onto him and loving the stretch of him inside you again.

Hearing you call him husband has him groaning your name and he hisses when you sink down onto his aching cock. “Hermosa. Mi esposa. Mi amor.” He murmurs, caressing your waist as you begin to rock on top of him, making him groan your name.

It’s frantic, the two of you rocking together. You lean down and press your lips to his, loving how he is throbbing inside you. You know he won’t last long, not if he’s gone all year with no pleasure but his hand. “Inside my cunt or my mouth?” You demand breathlessly.

He wants to cum inside of you but he doesn’t want you to be with child so soon. “Mo-mouth.” He pants out, close to his orgasm, and he’s groaning your name when you shift off of him, leaving his wet cock in the cool air.

Shuffling down his body, you're greedy as you take him into your mouth. Tasting the saltiness of his seed and your own juices as you start to Bob your head on his hard cock. Looking up at him and moaning around his length, feeling him tense under you.

He groans, unable to withhold his orgasm as he spills down your throat, moaning your name as he cums, eyes closed as he savors the pleasure that one you can give him. “Fuck hermosa.” He growls and after you’ve worked him through it, he pulls you off of his cock and drags you up his body so he can kiss you.

You smirk against his lips, not caring that you are on the floor, pressed up against his body. “I thought I would never see you again.” You admit quietly after you pull away. “I am happy that I was wrong.”

“I was always going to come back to you. When I left…it was only so I could come back and provide for us. For my family.” He adds, still in awe of his son. Pero was seeking a haven for the winter and instead he found a home - a family. It’s more than he could’ve asked for…worth more than all the coins in the world.

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