Willing? Yes. Able? Maybe?? I've never been pregnant or given birth myself, but I enjoy writing related smut more than I ever thought I would. And you write one Mary Goore pregnancy fic and call him 'Pappa' one time…it does something to the brain.
18+ Explicit (1,106 words) Mary Goore x fem!afab!reader TW Lactation
[Established Relationship, Poorly Translated Swedish, Smut, Post-Partum Sex, Late Night Sleepy Sex, Cunnilingus, P in V Sex, Squirting, Lactation/Lactation Kink, Romantic Fluff/Aftercare, Mary Goore Is A Great Father But He's Still A Little Freak]
Read on AO3
MODERSMJÖLK
He heard you moan quietly, even over the hum of the white noise machine across the hall and the monotonous waves of traffic outside your apartment window. It didn't take much to wake him anymore, his post-gig, drunken, borderline-comatose nights set aside once the little one came along. Drinking and whoring had lost their appeal anyway once you entered the picture. He was a family man now. A blood-stained, mud-caked family man, and he'd never been happier.
He rolled over instinctively, resting a hand on your hip and pressing lazy kisses against your shoulder. "S'wrong, fruga?"
You groaned again, a little bit louder. "Sore..."
"Aw, poor mamma. They're hurtin' tonight, huh?" He let his hand slide up under the hem of your shirt, giving your breast a tiny affectionate squeeze. "Need me to help you get the pump set up?"
You rolled onto your back so you were pressed tighter against him, shaking your head wordlessly against his pale, bare chest as you reached to guide his hand lower. "Mmm mmm...," you mumbled, draping a leg over his to give him better access. He could feel your wet heat through the soaked cotton and even the slight touch of his fingertips tracing your sex made you wriggle against him and clench around nothing.
"Ah, I get it," he chuckled, shifting to peel off your panties and lie down between your thighs with a soft kiss to each hipbone. "Guess you need somethin' else, eh? Message received, baby girl."
He blew a puff of warm breath against your damp folds but it felt like ice and made you shiver. "Please Mare...Too tired..."
Your pitiful pout and the tremble to your voice told him you were in no mood for teasing, not at this hour of night. He ran the sharp tip of his tongue along your slit, but just that was enough to make your body tense with a needy whimper and your shaking hands clutch at the sheets. "So sensitive tonight...Min lilla favorit mus..."
He circled and flicked the aching bud with growing speed, matching the rhythm of the rutting of your hips. When he finally pressed his tongue hard and flat against you, tightening his grip on your thighs and urging you to grind against his mouth, it was all you needed to tumble over the edge.
The warm waves of release rippled through your sleepy body, coaxed along by the gentle lapping of his tongue as he tried to keep your pleasure going as long as possible. Only once you'd purred a satisfied, "Mmmm...That was nice, Mare..." did he look up and notice that you'd leaked a bit through your thin t-shirt.
You noticed him staring, but failed to notice the freshly ignited lust in his eyes as you fussed to clean yourself up. He grabbed your wrist to still your hand, probably harder than he intended to. "Don't you dare," he growled, crawling over you to bunch your shirt up roughly and expose your swollen breasts.
He dove into your chest with an animalistic growl, cupping each puffy globe gently and circling your nipple with his tongue before sucking it into his mouth, savoring each drop of your sweet milk that beaded on your skin. When he turned his attention to the other side, you tugged at his hair and panted, "Mary, stop stalling and fuck me."
He let your tight nub fall from the suction of his lips with a pop, emerald eyes flashing down at you in the dim moonlight. "Who's stallin'?" He sat up abruptly, nudging the loose waistband of his sweatpants down his narrow hips enough to free his erection, the usually porcelain skin flushed pink and glistening with pre-cum. "M'just havin' a good time, prinssessa." He took both your hands in his to pull you up to straddle his thighs, wrapping his lanky arms around your waist to lift you up enough that his pulsing tip lined up with your entrance. "You sure you're ready to take me?," he murmured with his usual cocky smirk.
"Mmm, please pappa... You kissed him hungrily, letting your tongue snake into the warmth of his mouth as his length inched through your slick, quivering walls.
He broke the kiss and came up for air when your hips met. "Fuck, you feel so good...Still so tight...Magisk mus..."
You giggled and tightened your grip around his neck, clenching around him. "What can I say? I do a lot of Kegels."
He pressed his forehead against yours, grating his calloused fingertips along your shoulder blades. "Ride me as hard as you want to, älskling. You're not gonna break me." He slid his hands down your back, letting you arch back and press your clit even harder into his public bone. "Just lemme at those tits again."
He latched on without wasting any more time, and you took the cue to start to move, rolling your hips and gaining speed by the second. "Shit, Mare...Oh, shit, you're right on my g-spot..."
His answer was a muffled moan and he switched sides, barely biting down on the opposite nipple, digging his fingers deeper into the plush flesh of your hips, challenging you to fuck yourself on his cock even harder.
Your back bowed when you clamped down on his shaft, your hand flying to your mouth just quickly enough to stifle your blissful cries. The orgasm made your vision blur, your body spasm, and he could feel the hot rush of your juices drowning his cock, warm spurts of your milk shooting down his eager throat. He suckled from one nipple while he kneaded the other breast, switching and alternating as the excess sprayed and trickled down his pale skin.
When your high finally ebbed you pushed him away with weak hands and fell back onto the bedding, vaguely feeling him cleaning you with long strokes of his tongue on your flushed skin, grooming you like a cat, determined not to waste a drop of any of your precious fluids. His tender attention was already lulling you back to sleep when a familiar sound broke through your haze.
You heard faint titters of distress in the distance, straining to right yourself dutifully. "She's hungry," you muttered mindlessly, only to have him push you back to the soft surface of the bed with a firm but gentle poke. "I'll get her a bottle from the fridge. You need to sleep. `Sides, you're tapped out, babe. You let Pappa take care of this."
The hint of pride in his voice was unmistakable, ever the doting dad. Doting partner. Doting lover. Your sweet Mary.
.
fruga = wife (affectionate like wifey)
min lilla favorite = my favorite little pussy (literal translation mouse)
magisk mus = magic pussy (again, mouse)
Kinktober request - Crosshair discovers he has a lactation kink when female reader produces too much milk for their child. He helps her with the excess while he fingers her/she rides him, and he can't get enough. Please and thank you!
Helpful
Crosshair x Fem Reader Partner
Warnings (basically what's in the ask): lactation kink, mention of pregnancy and changes to reader's body post-partum, suckling, fingering, protected PiV, aftercare and discussion of future children
Word count: 1189
The evening brought a quiet Crosshair was grateful for. He watched you feed and rock your child with a tired calm. Being parents to an infant was no small task and with all the changes you were dealing with, he was more protective than ever. Even when hormones meant strong emotions showed up out of the blue, he took that as a sign that you needed him to be steady. He could easily be one to bite back, but not with you. Not with your child.
"You done?" you asked your daughter as she pulled away from your breast. "There's more here if you want it."
She cooed up at you, looking full and ready to burp. Crosshair reached down for her to take over while you cleaned up and tucked yourself away for the next round of feeding. He walked around and moved rhythmically to help her get any gas out.
"Maybe I should pump some more," you said, looking at the already full bottles waiting for Wrecker to gather with his niece so you and Crosshair could get a little alone time.
"There's plenty there," Crosshair replied.
"I know, but I seem to be over-productive," you replied.
He paused, eye darting to the side for a moment of thought before he said, "maybe I could help with that."
You took a moment to deduce what that might mean and noticed a certain vulnerability to him that only appeared in certain circumstances.
"Alright," you said with a small smile.
The doorbell sounded and Crosshair walked over to greet Wrecker.
"Hey! How's my little girl?" Wrecker asked as he came in. She burped.
"Perfect as always," he declared with a grin.
Crosshair had everything ready for his brother and you handed him the diaper bag, extra bottles, a datapad of instructions, and some spare items just in case. Crosshair insisted on all of it.
"You'll be okay?" he asked his big brother before handing his daughter over.
"Crosshair, I live next door. You aren't going anywhere. Just have a night off and spend some time together."
"They'll be fine," you said, smiling at Wrecker and thanking him for giving you a night to yourselves.
The door had barely closed before he snaked his arms around your waist and kissed you. Tender kisses followed by needier ones. You smiled under them and cupped his cheeks. He walked you back to the bedroom, still placing kisses on your neck. You undressed each other in no time and he paused before getting into bed. You cupped his cheek and gave him a playful grin. He replied by kissing the inside of your wrist and smirking. You were all his.
He laid on the bed and quickly put a condom on; unashamed of his clear arousal. You traced some of the scars over his body and tenderly kissed the indented skin on the side of his head. A reminder that you loved him no matter what.
"Let me look at you," he said, sitting up so he could be closer to you. His eyes followed the path of your own scars. Skin once taunt from carrying a baby was now soft. You jiggled a little more, much to his delight, and milk dripped from your breasts. You caught him looking, but he didn't mind.
"It's not as glamorous as some people make it out to be," you said.
"Oh I don't know. I love them."
"You've always loved them," you giggled.
"This is different though," he said quietly.
"They ache a lot," you admitted.
Crosshair could only see a pair of gloriously full tits right in his face. And not just any pair. They were yours.
"Go on," you nodded. "I know you want to."
He looked up at you and first kissed your lips in a silent acknowledgement that he would be careful. He started by gently licking around your nipple before taking it in his mouth. The taste was something he'd never experienced and he couldn't help but suck on it. He was gentle and took his time. He held your other breast and rolled the nipped around with his thumb. He paused and adjusted how you were both positioned. You felt his cock twitch beneath you, but still sat on top of him. He switched to the other breast and swirled his tongue around it to lap up the leaking milk. You started to relax more as he traced your nipple with his tongue and gently sucked. His free hand found its way to your folds and he massaged your clit in time with his mouth. You let out a heavy breath arched your body closer to him.
"Want you," you whispered between breaths.
He pulled away, allowing you room to grab his aching cock and line it up. He couldn't stop the groan that left his mouth when you started riding him.
"Shh," you playfully insisted, pushing a tit back in his face.
He happily complied and started suckling again. The relief of the experience combined with his practiced mouth only made you want to drag out your pleasure. You rolled your hips and took your time. Crosshair couldn't help himself and started thrusting from underneath you. He wanted more.
You responded with a faster pace and pushed him down on the bed. He arched his neck up to take as much breast as he could into his mouth, and laid back to suck again while you rode him hard. Your breathing spend up and it wasn't long before you moaned and came. His own pleasure followed soon after, his cock deep inside you and your nipple at the back of his throat.
"So good," was all he could say.
He pulled away and looked up at you, but was still fascinated by your now slightly less full breasts.
"We can do this again," you said as you kissed him, "but it's going to start to be painful if we keep going."
He nodded in acknowledgement and glanced toward the fresher. The new tub would be a perfect opportunity for a little downtime. After washing each other, a snuggle in the sudsy bath seemed in order. You pulled him closer and kissed his temple. He relaxed into the feeling of your hand rubbing circles on his back.
"I'm supposed to be taking care of you," he said.
"We're supposed to take care of each other," you replied.
He inhaled and pulled you closer. His hands traced some of your stretch marks and a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
"I don't know if I can do that again," you admitted out loud for the first time.
"Then you don't have to," he answered. "I could always get the snip if it would make you feel better."
"We don't have to do decide now, Crosshair."
"Mm. Don't be afraid to tell me what you want."
He pulled you in to hold you and you grinned.
"Right now I want to go back to bed. The water's starting to get cold."
You both got out and he wrapped you in a towel before pulling the plug in the drain.
Yang: Babe, I literally watched you shit all over the bed while you pushed a baby out of your cootch.
Blake: You said I didn't!!!
Yang: Because you were self-conscious, and I didn't want you to feel bad! It's a normal part of giving birth, babe! But what's wrong???
Blake: (ears slicked back) I leaked through my nightgown.
Yang: You what?
Blake: (turns to reveal two wet spots on her chest)
Yang: .....I'm not trying to sound insensitive....but that's it?
Blake: (pauses, looks down, and looks back at Yang) ....yeah.... Actually...that's it.... Huh... (gets up and starts to change like nothing ever bothered her to start)
«Les douleurs, le sang, les pleurs… On ne nous prépare pas». Depuis quelques jours, les femmes racontent sur Twitter ce qu’elles auraient aimé savoir avant de donner la vie.
After my insane shit day on Wednesday, I had one day off. I spent it cleaning and doing laundry which was really therapeutic since my place was a disaster and having it clean takes a load of stress off.
Got to work Friday to see I was floating to Women’s Center. Said a quick thanks that it wasn’t to psych and hoped the day would be ok. I hate floating in general because I always worry I won’t know what to do and I hate having to constantly be asking questions. Also, the postpartum patients freak me out because as a med/surg nurse that seems like too much blood all the time and I have no personal experience to draw from.
I ended up having the best day. Census was low so it was just me and 2 other nurses who are both nice and chill They let me start with all post-op hysterectomy pts (even though one of the nurses had had 2 of them the previous day) which are treated and charted on just like a med/surg pt.
I did have to take 2 post-partum admits. But both times one of the other nurses came with me to help me and make sure I didn’t miss anything.
Was just the day I needed and was so nice to get away from the chaos that my actual unit is currently in.
I see a lot of blog posts and advice columns for parents, especially new parents that concern me.
It’s not that the advice is necessarily wrong at face value but it’s the deeper implications of all the columns and what I’ve noticed as a parent.
As a parent one of the first things that happens to you is a sense that you’re supposed to be perfect and calm and reasonable at all times or else you are an abusive parent who should have your kids taken away.
I’m not saying abusive behaviour like screaming at your kids is okay, that’s why the advice seems to so sensible at first glance. What it implies though is that if you are anything less than perfect at all times then you are not a good parent and that is not actually feasible.
Being a parent is hard.
If you have an infant you are constantly sleep deprived and often the kid cries whenever you put them down but you have to put them down sometimes to do things like eat or hang up laundry and no matter how much you try at some point you will turn to your new born baby and scream “WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME” before bursting into tears. (not to mention feeling like shit for having yelled at a baby)
Post-partum depression is also a major issue with this. It makes it hard to bond with your baby and can make patience and calm rare commodities.
I spent the first two years of my kid’s life deeply depressed and suicidal. Many of the Mums I knew were on anti-depressants and trying to cope with the demands of a small baby.
The thing is this is all terribly common it’s hard, no matter how much you plan you don’t know what to expect, you are sleep deprived and trying to communicate with a creature whose only form of communication is crying and sometimes they cry for reasons like “I’m tired but am angry about it” which what do you do about that?
So you have negative thoughts about your kid. You’re mad at them for crying, you may even dislike them or even hate them at times. That doesn’t mean you’d hurt them but it does mean you can struggle.
But here’s the thing you feel this way but also feel like you can’t tell someone how you’re feeling. You can’t tell anyone you’re struggling or that you sometimes don’t like your baby without the fear that that is what means your child will be taken away from you.
I love my Kid wholeheartedly, they are a great kid, but I struggled like hell when they were an infant. As I already mentioned I spent the first two years of my kids life deeply depressed and suicidal. I used to cry every time I went to the toilet by myself because it was the only place I felt like I could.
We did tell people I was struggling and we did receive support but there was 6 months when Kiddo was either with my inlaws or the childminders while husband was at work because I was so deeply depressed I was almost catatonic. I stlll spent time with Kiddo but not as much as I wish I could have but I was too depressed to cope and my doctors understood that.
I really needed that support and I should have asked for it sooner but I had been too afraid that someone would take Kiddo away from me because I wasn’t a perfect parent 100% of the time. (and I’m glad to say Kiddo wasn’t ever taken away)
I think we tend to forget that parents are humans and are imperfect and fallible. I think rather then telling parents “Don’t ever do this even once or you are a terrible parent” I’d much rather see communities and families supporting parents more. Allowing them to ask for help, acknowledging that its hard, allowing parents to admit that their baby is kinda an asshole sometimes and not take it automatically that a negative emotion is going to have violence attached.
By making parents afraid to ask for help and bottling up everything inside because god forbid they tell someone they’re strugglng...well that helps bad things to happen.
I’m a lot better now but I have a short temper which leads to me shouting. More than half the time I’m not even angry at the person I’m shouting at, I’m angry with myself because my cognitive issues that come with Fibromyalgia and depression makes it hard for me to form sentences sometimes and I’ll end up shouting them because I’m mad I can’t get it out properly.
I’ve worked hard over the last 8 years to improve that and I have done so greatly but it could have gotten worse instead of better if I hadn’t gotten help when Kiddo was very little.
I want a future when a mom can walk into a playgroup and say “I’m struggling to take care of my kid” and be offered support instead of judgement. I want the struggle to like let alone love your baby when you’re tired and covered in poo to be something freely discussed and worked on between parents instead of a taboo that’s only shared in whispers and with dread.
I want mom’s to be able to cry and say things like “I would never hurt my baby but I resent them so much” and receive hugs and support through those times instead of judgement and threats.
Every decision you make as a parent you are judged for but I wish I saw more about helping each other as parents and mothers rather then the judgement and implied “If you’re less than perfect you’re a monster” that I see so many times.
Actual abusive parents are shitlords don’t get me wrong. There is a world of difference between feeling a negative emotion and taking it out on your kid. But even if you are the nicest person in the world you’re occasionally going to lose your shit at your kid. That’s what I’m talking about, occasionally messing up as a parent. Not abuse because that is never okay.
(If you need help telling the difference:
Abuse: is done with malice to control and have power over someone else and happens often with the abuser knowing exactly what they are doing.
Having a bad day: Parent is sleep deprived and Kid is taking forever to put on their shoes. Parent yells at the kid to “Hurry the Hell up! Why the hell are you taking so long!?” Kid bursts into tears. Parent feels like shit and apologises. Kid calms down with a hug and forgets about it 5 minutes later. Parent spends the rest of the day thinking about what a piece of shit they are to make their kid cry. Parent does their level best to keep their anger in check in the future.)
Shit happens : la dimension grandement scatologique de la parentalité.
Autant vous le dire tout de suite, ce n’est pas cet article qui me vaudra la médaille du post le plus poétique de l’année. Mais c’est un fait, chers jeunes parents, vous vous apprêtez à pénétrer un monde terrifiant, peuplé de sécrétions en tout genre. Et vous ne vous contenterez pas de les subir. Vous allez les étudier, les apprivoiser, et comprendre les nombreuses subtilités de ces vomissures et…
