you're my last shot

lactation kink smut*

"Shit."

Per her 20-week checkup with her doctor last week, she knew she was officially at the halfway mark and could start producing milk at any point. She just hadn't expected it start happening now.

She hadn't noticed it until she went to the bathroom at Harry's place and zeroed in on the faintest of wet spots on her tee-shirt. She thought she may have spilled something on her top, only to realize that the stains were where her nipples are, and she was wearing a thin bralette today for the sake of comfort. That's when it clicked: She's lactating.

Even if she'd never verbally admit it, she'd been kind of fascinated by the way her body started to accommodate the baby, immediately creating a cozy home for them. It was humbling to know that she was serving a purpose of nurturing someone else now, and her breasts beginning to make milk was just another form of preparation.

She guesses she had been in the bathroom for a beat too long when Harry, tentative, worrisome, and annoying as ever, knocks on the door. Whipping her head from her gaze in the mirror, she swallows as she twists the knob open.

"What?"

"Just making sure you're alright," Harry replies with a confused expression, "You've been in there for awhile."

"Okay."

She's acting weird, so Harry stares at her through squinted eyes, trying to figure out if she'd been crying or something. (Lately, she feels like she can tear up over anything.) It's only when his eyes trail down her neck and over her chest that he sees it too.

"You're—"

"Yeah. I know."

"Is that why you were in here for so long?"

Y/N nods, an unusually sincere reply on the tip of her tongue. "Yeah, was just kind of surprised it's happening already. Kinda crazy."

"Well, you're halfway through," Harry responds easily, "Do you want to clean up? I can grab you another shirt."

"Yeah, please."

In a moment, he's gone, traipsing down the hallway to his bedroom. She hears him opening and closing the drawers of his dresser as she peels her own tee-shirt up and over her torso, tossing it on the closed toilet seat. When she glances at her appearance in the mirror, she sees the larger, dampened patches through her white bralette, swallowing harshly at the sight. She lets out a breath and presses a palm to her protruding belly bump as Harry walks back into the bedroom.

"I tried to find a comfy one." he says, though his movements instantly cease the second he goes to hand it to her. She can see it in his face and it makes her want to smirk, but instead a heavy pant is her only reaction. He bites his lip, a minuscule tell, and she realizes then that she's right.

"Do you want to see?" she asks breathily. She doesn't know what she's doing as his eyes flicker up to her face, pink lips parted. He can already see — they both can — but he knows what she's asking.

"You... you don't mind?"

She shrugs. "'s just a body."

So he nods, shoving down the jolt of embarrassment he feels as she lifts her bralette over her chest, revealing swollen breasts and leaking nipples. He breathes out harshly, the sight instantly making him thicken in his pants.

"Pretty," he says softly, without even realizing it, "Gonna feed our baby."

"Yeah."

She doesn't know if she's testing or teasing, but she slowly brings a hand up to cup her breast, a small gasp leaving her lips when a small bit of milk dribbles down just from the pressure. She swipes the liquid with her fingertip and holds it out between them, a silent encouragement: you can if you want.

So he does. He dips down and takes her finger between his lips, a gentle suck before releasing. It doesn't really taste like much, but the tiny gasp that leaves her mouth is worth it.

"D'you want more?"

He nods, and this time it's not a question or back-and-forth. He ducks forward, lips latching around her nipple, gently backing her up against the wall as he squeezes her hip. She moans from the feeling. She knows she's not producing enough for it to hurt or bother her, but when she glances down to see his pretty eyes fluttered shut, eyelashes tickling her skin as he sucks and pulls at her nipple, it's overwhelming.

"Shit," she mumbles, leaning her head back. "That's... that's good."

He pops off and licks over his lips, revealing a hardened peak slick with spit. His eyes instantly dart to the other and she nods. In a second, his mouth is back on her, tongue swirling around the bud as he sucks her dry.

The act is taboo and dirty and pushing her closer and closer to an orgasm, something she never thought was possible solely through nipple play. She's whimpering and moaning from above and Harry must have some sort of sixth sense for this kind of thing, because despite his closed eyes, he brings his fingers up to stroke at her other nipple, squeezing the pebbled bud.

"H-Harry, I'm gonna cum," she warns, all worries about co-parenting and complicating their relationship thrown out the window. He groans against her breast, a wordless encouragement to let go — so she does.

It's earth-shattering in its own unique way; her first-ever experience coming without any stimulation down below. With her fingers twisting his hair harshly, she moans loudly, shuddering as curses fall from her lips. When it eventually subsides, he lets go, pressing light kisses along the valley of her breasts, ensuring that he hasn't done too much harm with the aggression of his mouth.

"That was good." he whispers into her skin, and she nods.

"It was."

"Maybe we can do it again sometime."

She smiles gently, tucking her bottom lip between her teeth.

"We'll see."