We all know Clyde has a breeding k!nk and loves t!ddies , but all I can think about is after you give birth and you have your newborn and him being obsessed with helping you when they’re engorged and painful
HC's: dad!Clyde & Your Post-Birth Breasts
author's notes: hello, hello! Clyde is indeed a titty mans, I'll believe it 'till the day I die; it's canon. but I do agree, he does looooove helping you out in any & all ways when they're all swollen and tender and so full of milk--
warnings: fluff. some smutty stuff. breast pumping. breastfeeding. leaking milk. tit-sucking. brief mentions/implied male masturbation. clyde has daughters, fight me.
(possible) tw's: implied past pregnancy (you & Clyde have a newborn at the time of this HC). some lactation kink.
Clyde has a natural talent for fatherhood, just as you knew he would. He’s incredibly patient, calm, and always so, so helpful. He definitely keeps you grounded when you need it most.
But, as of late, he’s shown an extra special interest in helping you with your breast pumping.
Of course you appreciate the help (you appreciate all of his help), since your breasts were almost always sore and so f-ing full. His motives, however, you’re sure aren’t 100% innocent, not that you minded, though; you always loved when your sweet, beloved husband had some dirty secrets.
It got to the point that he’s begun anticipating your needs; having the pump handy and bringing it over just as you’re about to ask him for it. It’s uncanny how often this started happening.
He also helps with breastfeeding, bringing the babe over when she’s crying, giving you the spit-up cloth, putting a sheet over you for privacy (even if you’re in the house and you don’t really need it, although this slowly stopped happening).
Clyde seems fascinated and not at all jealous of your daughter whenever you breastfeed, asking (very, very bashfully) if he can watch in order to learn more about it, which again, you’re pretty sure isn’t his only motivation.
One day, you finally ask him, “Honey, how do you always know what I need?”
Your tone was joking, but you were only partially joking; you really were genuinely curious.
The way his cheeks turned red, you’ve never seen him turn that red before. It was freakin’ adorable.
“Well, I uh...” (he rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly) “I started noticin’ that yer, um, yer nipples harden real obvious-like, in y-yer bra, whenever ya start g-gettin’ full ‘n sore.”
You were equal parts surprised at his eagle-eye observational ability (probably a result of his time at the military, most likely) as you were flattered that he would take the time to try and figure it out in order to better help you.
Even though this was cleared up, you were still pretty sure that he liked seeing your breasts full for other, more sexual reasons.
Oh gosh, he was sooooo bashful when he asked to help you pump the first time, and you’re pretty sure you could see the faint outline of an erection in his Levi’s when he approached you. It wasn’t very hard to spot a Clyde erection, considering his massive size, so you were almost certain.
You let him, of course, and his whole face kinda lit up when you said yes. He did everything you told him with great care, handling you very gently as you guided him through it.
Everything, all of your suspicions, were confirmed about a month after you brought your newborn daughter home. His eyes were wide as he looked down at your chest with a clenched jaw, clearly trying to keep himself together.
Sure enough, when you look down, there are two large wet patches on your shirt over where your nipples rested in your maternity bra. You’re mortified, but when you look to Clyde to get you a rag, he stays in place.
When his eyes meet yours, you shudder at the darkened nature of them. Oh, you knew all too well what that look meant...he was aroused. Very much so, by the looks of it.
“Lemme s-suck on ‘em, darlin’, please. Lemme help ya f-feel better.”
You agree with little-to-no hesitation, pulling your shirt off and making your way over to the couch while he followed you, undoing his belt and jeans.
He pulls your tender breasts out of the bra and immediately starts lapping at the sweet nectar that’s leaking from your nipples while he tugs his painfully hard length.
“Mmm, s-so sweet, tastes so fuckin’ g-good.”
“Love suckin’ on these b-big milky t-tits, darlin’.”
It’s not long before he’s shooting his big, thick creamy load all over his hand and your leggings with a loud, throaty groan.
In conclusion, Clyde’s a die-hard titty man and also a really amazing father <3 <3
I need more dad fluff with Clyde and reader’s kids 🥺 I like the way you write him. Maybe one where one of the kids got into trouble at school for getting into a fight with a student who made fun of Clyde’s arm?
Awe, thank you, anon! Luckily for you, I like writing him ;) Dad!Clyde is one of my favorites haha.
Enjoy!
Clyde's daughter getting in trouble for fighting with another student
It's around noon when the bar's phone rings. Clyde's stubborn ass refuses to get a cell phone ("They're stupid, darlin'. I wish ya'd stop tryna convince me.") so you have to call the actual bar.
"Duck Tape, Clyde speakin', how can I help ya?" your husband answers. You glance down at your watch.
"Hey, baby, it's me," you say.
"Hey, darlin'. What's up?"
"Liv's school just called. She got in a fight," you say.
Clyde's eyes widen. His sweet, charming, playful nine-year-old got in a fight?
"She what!?"
You huff.
"She got in a fight. I'm heading over to the school to figure out the details. I'll call you once I know more."
Clyde wants nothing more than to find someone else to take his shift and go join you, be there for you. But there's no one else available, and there's extremely limited time for you to get over to the school.
"Alright, darlin'. Thanks for lettin' me know."
"Sure thing. I love you."
Clyde smiles.
"I love ya too."
You hang up the phone and head over to your daughter's school.
When you find out why she'd gotten in a fight, you have to take a moment to step out of the principal's office and collect yourself.
Someone insulted the fact that Clyde's missing his hand, and Olivia gave them a bloody nose.
Honestly? A teeny, tiny part of you is proud of your girl.
Violence is, of course, not the answer, but she had pure intentions, you suppose.
You call Clyde once you and Olivia are back in the car.
"Duck Tape--"
"It's me, babe," you tell him. "I've got Liv. We'll discuss what happened when you get home tonight, okay?"
Clyde sighs.
"Alright. Is she okay? She's not hurt or nothin', is she?"
You glance over at your daughter. She's singing along to the radio and swinging her feet back and forth in her carseat.
A/N: ASK AND YOU SHALL RECEIVE ANGEL... @maybe-your-left I HOPE YOU’RE HAPPY WITH YOURSELF! I AM NOW GOING TO UNSUBSCRIBE TO MY OWN BLOG..
Warnings: Voyeurism, BLUE BALLS, tw: pregnancy, tw: breeding kink, cum eating, masturbation, dirty talk, also sweet talk because Clyde is baby, cowgirl style, fondling those BIG BALLS, copious amounts of description of horsecocks, copious amounts of cum (just a swimming pool size full of his cum if you will), just pure fuckin’ smut and fluff because I cannot get off the DadBod train tonight or ever (thank you @in-silks-and-flesh-and-leather I love you forever), tw: mentions of somnophilia, tw: I am back on my bullshit and better than ever bitches!
The clock read five in the morning as he stared it down menacingly. Having just gotten home from the bar to your sleeping form peacefully huddled against his pillow, inhaling the sweet scent of him while he slaved away at work.
He laid down gingerly, careful not to disturb you as he knew you hadn’t been sleeping too well given the state you had been in over the first few weeks of it all. The vomiting, the tears, the rush of hormones coupled with outbursts of anger and pain from your breasts had all been weighing on you.
He gave you your space, knowing from his research that the second trimester would be so much different. Hoping the book wasn’t lying to him about that and waiting as patiently as he could for you to come around.
Those nights he’d find you keeled over the toilet, cursing his name as he stumbled through the door of the trailer. He hated all of it, wishing he could take the ugly parts away for you. But he knew, and so did you, that it was all for the greatest adventure yet, so it was worth the endless tears and heartburn.
So, on nights like tonight, he’d rub the stray hair from your face, peeking under the covers to place a gentle hand on that growing bump of yours, hoping soon he’d feel a little kick as he teared up thinking about how amazing you were for growing this precious baby.
He loved you even more than he could count on his fingers and toes, and when you’d both found out, it was both a sigh of relief and joy as you both finally had the thing you’d been afraid wasn’t possible. It was perfect. Except on these nights when he couldn’t sleep.
When he ached for your luscious cunt enveloping his after a long day’s work. He wouldn’t dare wake you up for it, for fear of the mama bear wrath, but godammit did he wish you were having just as tough a time sleeping as he was.
He tossed and turned, the light of the clock seemingly getting brighter as he huffed around in the bed. Clad in only his boxers, as he kicked off the sheets in a fit of frustration, his tent very apparent as he adjusted his blue balls in between his thighs, the burning sensation causing a low hiss to leave his mouth.
“Fuck me,” he whispered, getting up with his good hand to sit his huge frame on the edge of the bed, rubbing his face in it as he let out another heavy sigh.
He strained up, cracking his back as he meandered to the living room and then the kitchen. Shuffling to the kitchen window, he huffed, looking out into the blackness of the early morning, thinking about making himself something to eat to curb his lack of sleep.
He padded over to the fridge, grabbing his favorite huckleberry jelly out of the side door, then the pantry to get his bread and peanut butter. Laying out a paper plate as he slowly opened the drawer to grab a knife, making damn sure he didn’t make a peep as he slathered the contents together. He pulled the stool out from the island, straining himself to not scoot it too loud on the tile while he devoured his sandwich in the light of the kitchen.
He looked around, reaching for some chips you’d left out on the counter earlier, crinkling the bag to get a few out before he became thirsty. He strained back up, the pain in his balls returning with every movement as they hit his meaty thighs.
“Jesus,” he whispered, gripping them in his hand before he took another step, “I gotta do somethin’ ‘bout this,” gritting out as he got the gallon of juice out of the fridge to cop a swig from it, knowing if you had witnessed it he’d be in the biggest trouble.
Letting out a huge sigh and a burp, he got back on the stool and finished the rest of his five AM snack, still feeling that dulled pain in his lower half as he tossed the remaining things in the trash and plopping on the couch to turn on the TV as he still didn’t feel tired.
He mindlessly flipped through the channels, settling on a sitcom before wincing in another sharp pain as he adjusted himself, legs spread wide on the couch. His cock still half-hard knowing your half-naked ass was laying in bed, no doubt the wetness building up from your sleep. He loved surprising you in the morning, feeling that slicked up pussy as he would snake a hand or his tip in between your folds, waking you up in the best way he could think of.
His dick twitched at the thought, his hand sliding in his briefs as he gripped his thick girth at its base, unveiling it in the brightness of the TV.
His chest heaved, the sensitivity that had built up over weeks of nothing was too much for him to take at this point. Spitting on his large hand as he spread the slick over himself, his dripping tip mixing with his saliva as he traced his bulged out veins along his shaft.
Throwing his head back at the feeling, wishing it wasn’t his hand fucking himself, and picturing that pretty mouth of yours covering him from stem to stern. He pumped his hand up and down steadily, setting the scene for himself while he closed his golden eyes.
You were perfect, knelt in between his thick thighs, kitten licking his tip and pecking sweet kisses on his tummy while he begged for you to do more. Your gorgeous eyes boring into his as your lashes fluttered in innocence licking a long stripe from the base to the tip. A beautiful moan escaping your lips as your tits hit his sensitive sac.
You grip his belly in your delicate hands, kneading and scratching at it for leverage while you shoved your mouth over his length, the gag escaping your chest causing his breath to hitch as he watched you take him like the good girl you were.
He thrusts on himself sped up, thinking of you bobbing your pretty head on his large cock, the spit, and tears streaming down your cheeks and jawline in a sloppy mess while he pushed up into you. Holding your pretty hair in an iron grip as he lead you down on him more, your one hand snaking down to grip his pained sac and rolling it in your fingers while he exhaled a groan at the sensation.
“Goddammit baby girl,” he gritted out, feeling the warming of his release creep up slowly as he kept his imagination running on and on. His eyes still closed as he jerked it on the couch, seemingly unaware of how loud he truly was in the moment.
You had woken up a few minutes after he’d begun, leaning in on the doorframe as you bit your lip looking at your big bear going to town in the living room. His thick cock making the drippage seep out of your bare cunt as you tried to keep as quiet as possible.
He kept up with his thoughts, blissfully unaware of the mess he was making you feel in the moment. Your lower belly burning for him as you gripped the little bump that had become more apparent as of late.
Crossing your legs to avoid more leakage, you leaned your head on the frame as well, reveling in the sweet sounds your husband was making on the sofa. His grunts, curses, moans, and groans were enough to make you blush as he repeated your name over and over.
The strains getting more feral as he neared his orgasm. You inched forward just before he was about to burst, knowing the faces he made so well as you crawled on your hands in knees like a tiger stalking its prey.
“Holy s-shit, Y/N,” his low baritone muttered out, the speed on his angry cock had picked up as fervently as he could possibly go in the moment, his precious face conjuring up in all signs of pleasure as the sweat dripped from his temples, his teeth gritted while he tried to reach his edge.
You watched his hand move in tandem with his hips, moving just snuggly in between his tree-trunk thighs as he kept his motions going. Your eyes found those heavy balls of his, watching as they began to twitch from his end. In a fight or flight moment, your hand grabbed them, rolling them so sweetly and delicately as his eyes burst open in terror.
“Y/N?!” he jumped, the sensation pushing him over to squirt out a thick rope on his belly as you massaged his sac to the end of it all.
“That’s it, daddy,” you cooed, eyes hungry as he spurt out more and more cum from his tip, his heavy breaths coming in high as he winced more and more of his spend on himself, “cum all over the place big bear,” salivating as you saw the amount that has built up on his stomach.
“M-mother f-fuck d-darlin’,” he growled out, watching your eyes follow the load as you hunched over his softening cock.
Your lips touched the warm baby gravy, beginning to lick and suck every drop along with trails of hickeys on his precious tummy while your nails dug into his thighs, the crescents indenting on them as you finished your ministrations on him.
You lifted your head, licking your lips as you swallowed his whole load, showing your tongue after all was said and done.
“Where the hell were ya ‘bout five minutes ago?” he chuckled, catching his breaths as he watched you straddle his lap, your precious little bump touching his belly as you closed the gap on him.
“I was sleepin’ honey,” kissing his lips slowly as you wrapped your arms around his neck, his hand coming to caress your taut skin in your midsection, tracing slow circles as you kissed his forehead, “but I got woken up to a growling bear in the living room,” raising an eyebrow as you leaned back to meet his timid gaze.
“‘M sorry darlin’,” he whispered, “I jus’ couldn’t sleep an’ I didn’t want ta wake ya up on account a ya not gettin’ that good a sleep lately,” his head bowing down in shame as he continued to avoid eye contact.
“Honey,” you pushed him to meet you again, “I know I ain’t been myself lately, an’ I’m sorry ‘bout that,” the pit in your stomach forming as his pout surfaced on his face, “but if ya needed somethin’ I woulda done it… No matter how late it was,” smiling as you pushed some stray hairs from his sweet face.
“Psh,” he huffed, rolling his eyes slightly at the thought of waking you from a dead sleep, “baby girl, I ain’t ‘bout ta wake ya up fer ya to suck me off fer ten minutes so I can sleep,” he chuckled.
“Why not? I know you’d do that fer me in a heartbeat,” cocking your head to the side as you took in his toothy grin.
“‘Cause I ain’t gonna wake up a mama bear,” laughing out loud as he smoothed a hand on your lower back, “I don’t wanna get bit darlin’!” pulling you into a huge hug as you both laughed.
“Well,” you got up from the couch, extending a hand to pull your man to bed, “if ya want… This mama bear needs a lil’ lovin’ from her big daddy bear,” winking as you inched him back towards the bedroom, “an’ I got a hankerin’ fer some horsecock right ‘bout now,” pushing him onto the bed while you straddled his hips, removing your t-shirt to reveal your fullness to him.
His cock straining again under the weight of your slick cunt as it rubbed the length up and down from your grinding on him.
“Ya like whatcha see daddy?” whining as you lined your entrance with his tip, his groans enough to send you into another stratosphere as you swallowed him inch by painful inch.
“I love seein’ ma baby girl like this,” he strained again, gripping your hip in his hand as he pushed himself up into to you, “all full a me… It’s ma favorite thing in the world,” gritting out over your purrs for him.
The sensation was magical. His cock teasing your cervix with every knock as he grunted his motions out while you ground your sloppy pussy over his pubic hair. The movements hitting your engorged clit with every rub and tug from the both of you melting into each other.
“I love bein’ all full a you big bear,” wailing out as you gripped his huge tits in your hands, your own dangling in front of his face as the sound of wet slaps penetrated the room.
“Ya?” he growled out, setting an even more punishing pace as he watched your jaw drop and your gorgeous tits bounce, “ya want me ta keep ya like this? Breed ya ‘til ya can’t take it no more?” the words hitting your bud as your spine tingled in your impending orgasm.
He knew exactly what he was doing. Knew the words and the movements to get his baby whining and moaning like a complete whore under or over him. He may have been a simple country boy, but he knew his way around his wife, and what went straight into her cunt besides his large and in charge dick.
“G-Good G-God yes daddy!” the tears spilling as you rag-dolled over his large frame, the orgasm spilling over you in an unexpected wave as his words cut to your very core. His motions grew erratic upon feeling your flutters clench around him in the most delicious way.
He watched your eyes meet his again, the blackout you’d sustained fading away as overstimulation set in. His grip tightened even more as he began to spill into you, his relieved cries reverberating around the room as he felt your warm cunt suck up his spend.
“J-Jesus baby girl,” he groaned, his balls completely empty as you fell to the side of him in a thud, your breaths coming in tandem with his as he gazed at you.
“Ya alright mama?” he pet your growing bump with the utmost tenderness, “I didn’t hurt ya ‘er nuthin’ did I?” glancing a look down at your figure in a panic before your hand reached his cheek.
“Ya didn’t hurt me or the baby at all big bear,” caressing his cheek as you pecked his plush lips, “we’re jus’ fine,” smiling warmly as he exhaled a relieved sigh, his eyes fluttering in his impending tiredness.
“I think daddy needs ta go ta bed, whatchu think baby bear?” giggling slightly as a smile crept over his face in total relaxation, his circles slowing as he stilled his big paw over your baby.
“Goodnight daddy,” whispering on his forehead as his breath evened out, and his limbs went limp.
A funny Clyde HC of reader telling him they’re done having kids after he tries to get her to agree to have more?
So Clyde has three living children, Benjamin, Andrew, and Violet.
And Clyde wants another so badly. He loves kids with all of his heart and he just can’t contain himself when he sees you all big with his babies.
When Violet’s about three, he starts throwing hints of another baby around in the air.
And you’re always quick to shoot them down.
“We could start looking for a bigger house, you know, places to put the new baby.” Clyde hums from where he’s cooking breakfast for dinner at the stovetop.
“What new baby?” You look up from your laptop. “Because I know you’re not talking about having another.”
“I mean... it wouldn’t be so bad.” Clyde says softly and you roll your eyes.
“We have three, and I’m not growing another. My boobs have had enough of that shit. Nice try.” You huff and settle back to working.
And Clyde tries a little harder after that. Every time you’re out shopping for the kids clothes, he finds the smallest little shoes and the smallest pairs of socks to show you.
“Bear,” you laugh softly as you watch the pout on his face.
“Come on, honeybee... one more wouldn’t hurt.” He says softly, pulling you to him by your hips in the middle of the aisle. “Then we’re done.”
“We were done at Violet.” You chuckle softly and shake your head. “No more babies.”
And Clyde tries for months upon months— and the answer is always the same.
Until you wind up pregnant unexpectedly and Clyde gives a smug little chuckle while you roll your eyes.
Clyde Logan x Reader
Summary: Just some bits from my brain of Clyde being a dad of two little boys.
Word Count: 1,196
The same letter board that held Benjamin’s name four years ago now reads,
Andrew James Logan
Due in February
<3
Clyde had the same stupidly huge smile on his face for this announcement photo that he did in Ben’s. But this time, he held his little buddy on his hip, flesh arm wrapped around him as they both held the letter Board. Hair was peeking out from under Clyde’s hat along with the tips of his ears.
Two years of trying for this one, two years paid off for you two to be having another perfect little boy. You felt impossibly more round than you did before, at only twenty weeks. Clyde sat Benjamin down after you’d taken their photo and placed his hand on your belly. He loved feeling your belly.
“Mama.” Ben patted your thigh gently. “There’s a baby?” You just ruffled his hair and nodded.
“Mhm, there’s a baby.” Your grin was ear to ear as Clyde began to pick up the toys Ben had left out on the floor of the trailer.
“How do you get the baby?” He asks curiously. You rolled your eyes and smiled, that’s a question for your daddy, sweet cheeks.
-
At week 38, You felt so impossibly big that you couldn’t even bend down to do simple tasks anymore. But Clyde was picking up the slack you left. When Ben’s toys were scattered through the living room floor of the trailer— he was the one running along and coaxing Ben to pick up.
Clyde was even insisting you stay in bed, he’d take care of you, the house, his job, and Benjamin. You knew his heart was in it. But could see how quickly it was going to wear him down. “Just let me help, Clyde. I can make dinner.” You laughed, placing a hand on your lower back as you stretched a bit. You felt like you were bigger now than you were with Benjamin.
Clyde smiles as he places his hands on your tummy, his thumb rubbing a soothing circle as you turn your head to check on where Ben was. “Honeybee, I can take care of us. More than capable.”
“I know you’re capable.” You say to him, a hand over his as he continues the soothing circles. “But I’m also capable. This pregnancy has been amazing. Fit as a fidd— Ben!” You reach out to grab the collar of Benjamin’s shirt to keep him from running face first into the countertop.
“Let him play, honey. He’s a growin’ boy.” Clyde says softly and fixes the collar of Ben’s shirt for him. “Run on and play. Don’t scare your mama.” He whispers, giving him a pat on the back as Benjamin throws a thumbs up and runs into his bedroom.
“Can’t keep putting off fixing Ben’s room around for Andy.” You say as you move to pull the thawed chicken from the fridge and seasonings to cook with. “Need to put the crib up.”
“Honeybee, stop worryin’ that pretty lil head.” Clyde mumbles as he lifts Benjamin up, holding him on his hip with his flesh arm around him. “Papa bear’s got it. Huh Benny?”
“Daddy got it.” He nods as Clyde sits him in his chair.
“I’m not worrying really. He could be here any day now and we haven’t set up anything yet.” You smile at him. “Literally any day.”
Clyde rolled his eyes as you three ate together, Andrew kicking your rib and causing some major heartburn as you went.
-
At week 40, you two woke up on the morning of the 14th. The day you’d scheduled your next c-section. Sadie had come by to watch Benjamin. You made sure to tell her he had to eat his dinner and no juice after seven. That he could play outside as long as he took a bath— and you two were off.
After being prepped for your surgery, Clyde was holding your hand the entire time. Which might’ve been different from Benjamin’s birth. He didn’t stand to watch this time, just whispered each and every thing that was happening, wishing you realized just how perfect what you’re doing was.
When they cleared his lungs, the two of you heard a small cry. It’s little Andrew.
When you brought Andy home, you set Benjamin on the couch and Andrew in his lap. Clyde sat beside them, supporting Andy’s head with a smile. Your three boys.
Your heart was so full. You didn’t ever wanna let this moment go. But soon Andy and Ben would be out running around and playing. Maybe they’d get Clyde out there with them. Teaching them to shoot cans and to be gentlemen. But right now you got to see all three of your boys sitting there in front of you.
When it came time for bedtime, you bathed Ben and Andy together; got them into their pjs, and Clyde helped you get them to bed. He tucked Benjamin in as he laid Andrew into his crib. After their bedtime story, and shutting their light off, you two crawled into your own bed.
“Our first night with them both was successful.” You say as Clyde reads from his book. Clyde only hums in response. He loved them both more than anything, maybe more than he loved you. His kids would come first as long as he lived and you didn’t mind. Your kids came first to you too. No matter how much you loved Clyde.
-
When Andrew was two and Benjamin was six, Clyde decided to sit them both down after a particularly long day shift at Duck Tape and an unusual amount of misbehaving for you on your kids part. “Now your mama tells me you two’ve been causing trouble.”
Andrew gives Clyde his biggest smile and reaches out for him, “daddy! be good.” He says softly.
Clyde smiles and puts his hands down. “You were not good today. Neither was your brother.” You watched them from where you were cooking, Clyde just talked and talked about them needing to behave when he was gone.
“Now go give your mama a hug and say you’re sorry.” He gives them both a kiss on the head as they stand and he sighs, sitting down himself to relax for a moment. His boys were his biggest accomplishment— maybe besides you. and he wanted to mold them into fine young men.
You hug both of your boys, kissing their cheeks and opening the front door to the trailer. “Go on out and play, boys. Don’t leave the yard.”
“Daddy says we—”
“I said don’t leave the yard.” You say a little more stern as the boys run out to play. You pour a glass of sweet tea and bring it over to Clyde, sitting on his lap as he takes the glass. “They’ve been saying all day you and Jimmy promised to take them fishing.”
“Mm, we did.” Clyde takes a few drinks and closes his eyes. “Friday, maybe.”
You smile, tucking back a strand of his hair. Your life with him couldn’t possibly get any better than it was. “Clyde?”
“Hm, honey bee?”
“You ready to be a daddy again?”
|| part one || part two || part three || part four ||
Would you be able to write some Clyde fluff with his newborn baby girl? 🥺 I feel like he’d be in awe of how tiny she is and you’d just look at him like “Well she is a baby. They usually are tiny.” something like that? 🥺 – 🎞
She’s the most perfect thing he could possibly imagine.
Chubby little hands and big brown eyes; she reaches for him with a quiet ‘coo’, legs kicking at the yellow blanket with enthusiasm. Just a day old - so tiny, and so, so loved.
“She’s got your beautiful eyes,” you smile tiredly, watching him with this loving gaze. “Big brown ones.”
His heart thunders in his chest, and Clyde strokes a wisp of hair from his daughter’s head. His plush lips find her brow, and he presses the most tender kiss to it.
“We made this,” he sniffles, tears beading in his eyes, “you n’ me. She’s the most lovely thing in the whole damned world, and we made her.”
She gives a quiet yawn, and tiny hands wrap around the metal curve of his prosthetic. June grips the thumb of his hand; curious at the warm feel of it, as Clyde gives it the smallest flex.
Okay so I have to thank the entire AD community for this, because without them I would not have had the confidence to post my second-ever fanfic. Special shout-out to @clydeluckylogan who answered an ask I sent her, which led to this. Hope you all enjoy! ~Nova
4:37pm, Thursday. With the end of summer coming around, Boone County weather was becoming almost unbearable. To make matters worse, the air conditioner at your office had finally kicked the bucket, making sitting in your cubic for eight hours almost complete torture. To top it all off, you had to spend all this time away from your wonderful husband and nine-month-old baby girl.
Eventually deciding you were done with the day, you grabbed your stuff and headed to your car. To be honest, you weren’t going to be any more productive sweltering in that stuffy office.
“Heading out early Y/N?” your co-worker, that you had never particularly liked, questioned.
“Come on, it’s 10 minutes and my baby girl has got to be missing me.”
“You must also be missing that hunky husband of yours. How is Clyde handling babysitting during the day?” She smirked, leaning back in her chair.
“Well, first he calls it parenting, and for your information I am missing him; so, I am leaving early.”
Getting out before she can add more sarcastic comments, you ran to your car and blasted the AC as far as it would go. Taking a quick second to release your anger at your colleague (and appreciate cool fresh air) you started driving home.
You arrived at the small bungalow you and Clyde share in the outskirts of Boone County. After you got married, Clyde surprised you with the purchase of this quaint wonderful home. You were completely overjoyed and worked together over the course of a few months to create the perfect living environment. Which happened to be just in time for you to announce your pregnancy.
You had never seen Clyde so happy as when you had told him you were going to have a baby. He had immediately purchased every single pregnancy, baby and parenting book he could possibly find. He was at your side for every Lamaze class helping you prepare for the birth and sang almost every night to your growing belly. When baby Logan finally came to the world, Clyde held her beside you and couldn’t stop the tears that flowed.
Removing yourself from memory lane, you opened the door to a cool dark house. Taking your high heeled shoes off and walking in slowly you called out quietly, “Clyde, baby?”
Not hearing any response, you decided to tip toe your way into the living room. There you found the most beautiful sight; her big, broad, wonderful husband lying on the couch, with your baby girl on his stomach. His right hand holding her gently to him, ensuring that she was safe and his left mechanical arm right below her bum. They were breathing in-time, both seemingly lost in dreamland.
You sighed and walked over to the couch, crouching down to kiss your baby on her beautiful head of thick dark hair; hair almost exactly like her father’s. The slight movement seemed to have woken the bear, as Clyde’s eyes started to blink open.
“Darlin’? It is already after five?” he asked in his signature half-awake growl.
“Yeah baby, it is. But you don’t have to get up just yet. I kind of want to be in this moment a little longer.”
“Okay” he grumbled and closed his eyes once more. Leaning over to brush your hands through his hair, you sat down on the carpet and rested your head against Clyde’s chest facing your daughter. You kept carding your fingers through Clyde’s hair while watching your baby breathe deeply, feeling so warm and secure on her daddy’s chest.
After a few perfect moments, the baby started to shuffle and wiggle, a sure sign she was about to wail. Luckily for you, she simply snuggled up to her father and blinked her eyes several times, letting out a few small cries.
“I guess nap time is over. She must be hungry.” You felt your husband grumble from above you. You slowly lifted the baby and carried her over the rocking chair Clyde has set up as your designated feeding area. As you started to nurse, Clyde came over and gave your lips a quick peck.
“How was work, love?”
“Nowhere near as wonderful as coming home to my two favourite people.”
Clyde chuckled in response and leaned in to touch his forehead to yours.
A/N: I started this little blurb last night at like 3 AM and then I decided I would just finish it up and post it this morning. This is a product of extreme baby fever and love for Clyde “big bear” Logan. I’m a whore for Clyde just in case anyone wanted to know
Dad!Clyde Logan X Mom! Reader
Summary: Clyde lets you sleep in while he takes care of your son for the morning.
Warnings: FLUFF, Babies/being a mother, more fluff, a baby wrap/baby bjorn, breakfast.
There is something to be said about sleeping in when you’re exhausted. When the weight of your eyelids slips away with each waking minute you spend in the throws of a subconscious wasteland. The sun streaming in through the window in the bedroom, long having risen and now streamed in through the thick weathered branches of the tree that twisted over the house. The bird’s song has come and gone; the worm already been stolen by those awake to take it. And through all that there was peace.
Waking up for the first time past the suns rise was not something I was ever expecting, not with a seven-month-old baby. As I lay, still steeping in the sleep induced haze, in the sunlight cozied up in the layers of blankets I insisted on pulling out every winter I couldn’t help but feel an absolute sense of joy rush though me.
Clyde logan was the best man I could have ever asked to spend my life with. He was uncharacteristically smooth when it came to the turbulence, I threw his way. The bad days always met with a slow and solid response of care, the worse days with gentle reminders that he would always love me, fights always ended in a calm discussion, and hardships were fought together.
We had both wandered so long through life without a partner, spent days wondering if love was something, we would be able to treasure or if it was a distant memory we would have to forfeit to some greater and higher purpose. When I found him, I knew almost instantly that if he wasn’t the one for me there was no one out there. His tall and broad frame matched with a deep and husky southern twang made my heart flutter a million miles an hour. We married within the year.
We wasted no time after getting married, knowing both of us were getting well into our thirties, it was time for our family to grow, and grow it did. Five months after we were officially married, we found out we were expecting, and the love only grew from there.
I was pulled from my thoughts by the lingering smell of breakfast being made in the kitchen. Stretching out and realizing I had slept in until ten AM, an unspeakable feat for anyone who had a young child, and Clyde was letting me. My heart swelled with unspeakable appreciation for the man I loved, and with no other contemplation I rolled out of bed to greet my husband.
Clyde was a sight to be seen, donning a pair of comfortable sweats and no shirt, with a baby wrap keeping our son pressed to his chest. The joy in my heart elevated with a deep carnal lust seeing the back muscles of the man I loved plating up some breakfast in the light of the peaceful morning. He was humming some old Elvis song as he rocked our son back to sleep. I crept up behind the pair of boys wrapping my hands around Clyde’s waist, resting my head in the divot between his sturdy shoulder blades.
He tensed for a moment before realizing it was only me. “Scared me Darlin’” he chuckled, turning in my grasp to look at me. He leant over and gave me a quick kiss, the baby noticing his mom and beginning to squirm around in his wrap. “How’d ya sleep?”
His iron gaze softened in my direction, waiting my response, “I slept great bubba,” His cheeks flushing at his favorite nickname, “Thank you for letting me sleep in so late.” I pressed a soft kiss to his shoulder and changed my attention to the baby kicking his legs around for attention.
“Woah there little man,” Clyde laughed at his son about to turn a big fuss if he isn’t in his mother’s arms in the next few seconds. “Looks like little Ollie missed his Mama, Huh? Me too.” He addressed leaning down so I could pull him from the front wrap. Oliver reaching for my hair as soon as I was in his reach. Clyde watching with affection in his eyes as Ollie snuggled into my neck with a happy smile and a fistful of my hair.
“It’s amazing how much I can sleep when I don’t have to breast feed every couple hours.” I commented in a high baby voice so Ollie thought I was talking to him. The features of his face reminiscent of his fathers above us, a striking comparison in almost every way.
“I’m glad you got some rest Darlin, lord knows you’ve been needin’ it.” He replied, Clyde had been worrying himself sick for the last month over my rest. Making sure I was sleeping as much as we could allow while I was still breast feeding but as soon as Ollie could cut back Clyde wanted me to take it easy. His worry extending to all avenues of his life but he never seemed to worry about anything as much as he worried about Oliver and I.
“Didn’t even hear Ollie boy wake up!” I spoke in to the boy directly, him giving me a babble in response, excited his Mama was up and ready to play this morning. “Did you wake daddy this morning? Did Ollie boy wake daddy?” I performed for Oliver.
“Nah, Daddy wanted to have a little bit of a boy mornin’ so Mama could rest.” Clyde played along with the performative baby talk for the sake of his son. “Made breakfast for ya’ Darlin’, I’ll go get him washed up while ya eat.” He took the boy back in his arm and up the stairs of our little farmhouse leaving me to eat.
Breakfast passed with the same peace as before but I missed the coos and conversation my boys brought. Thankfully Clyde worked diligently despite his one-armed challenge and emerged with our son donning a new onesie his aunt had dropped by with just a few days ago.
“Look at my handsome boys!” I exclaimed as they walked into the kitchen. Clyde laughing down at his son basking in the praise of his mother. “Ollie is so handsome, just like his Daddy!” I continued on, kissing Oliver all over his face and giving the same sentiment to his father.
“Ollie’s been makin’ a big ol’ fuss that Mama didn’t join us.” Clyde huffed out, exploring the same sentiment as his son even if he did ask for me to relax downstairs while he took care of it. I always picked out Ollie’s outfits, Clyde claiming I was the ‘fashion expert’ of the house, and Clyde preferred to take a backseat to my ‘expertise’. “He’s a Mama’s boy, that’s for damn sure.” Clyde joked.
“Oh, I don’t think so,” I argued bringing Oliver back into my grasp and rocking him around on my hip, “He just likes havin’ his Mama and Daddy’s attention all at once.” I explained while Clyde watched with glee at his two favorite people dancing around on a Saturday morning.
“Oh, I don’t blame ‘im for bein’ so attatched to his Mama.” Clyde explained, wrapping his arm around my waist, bringing me and Oliver to nestle on his chest. “Not when his Mama’s so cute.” He commented.
Clydes words only served to make my heart burst more. If there was a moment I wished I could frame, a singular moment in time where everything was just right, It would be that morning in the kitchen. The same kitchen that every rushed morning out the door for work, late returns and dinners eaten in the early mornings, the hushed arguments, the cherished reconciliation, and the life that happened within those four walls. There was a little nugget of perfect that morning and no amount of life could come around and change that.
A/N: Thanks for reading another complete self indulgent piece of work lmao. Come swing by my inbox and let me know what you thought! I also take requests for your self indulgent ideas!
