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ciggylungz · 2 years

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can we get some saggy titty love up in here cause i know damn well theadora’s father makes y/n feel like her milk jugs are the sexiest thing he’s ever seen

theadora: extras

warnings: nsfw, breastfeeding kink, mentions of bad body image, minors do not interact with this blog or this post.

full chaps in patreon and tumblr

The house is quiet apart from the squeaky noises coming from the kitchen as Harry washes the pot they used for their dinner. Billy Joel comes on shuffle, and it makes him laugh, knowing Y/N would pout and reach for the device to skip Joel, not on my watch, Harry.

Though, he finds it strange, how she's still upstairs, despite knowing Theadora is asleep because she's texted him a photo of her milk-drunk, sleeping face from upstairs, in her cosy crib. Mission accomplished, will be there in a mo.

A moment– moments pass, but Y/N is nowhere to be found.

He places the last dish on the rack, and wipes his hand on the pink tea towel before turning his back to the sink. He makes his way upstairs, as quiet as one can be despite the creaking floorboards, and stops in front of their bedroom door. It's not shut completely, it's ajar, and he watches Y/N on the bed– in the bed, with one of his hoodies on, despite the temperature of the house: it's hot.

Normally, you would find their little family chilling in their short sleeves, maybe some pyjama shorts, or in true Harry fashion, as naked as one can be with a nine month old. Thus, it is extremely weird how she decided to put on a hoodie, rather than staying in her comfortable attire from earlier, a ratty band t-shirt and some shorts.

"Baby," Harry opens the door wider, and walks in. She looks up from her phone, and smiles.

It doesn't reach her eyes.

When she doesn't respond, he walks closer to their bed, and sits at the end. "What's going on?"

"What do you mean?"

"You didn't come downstairs, baby."

"Oh," a shrug, then she locks her phone. "Sorry."

Harry knows the tone of her voice– this one in particular. It's sad, confused, and everything in between. She's got a lot to say, he knows, but is choosing not to.

So, he asks.

"What's going on, Y/N?"

Truth be told, they had ups and downs.

And they both had mood swings.

But he was particularly concerned when it came to her mood swings. He didn't want her to suffer, knowing it's a big deal having a baby and your mind and body changing afterwards.

She lets out a puff of air, and scratches her belly. "Nothing's going on."

"Something is going on, and I want you to tell me. I want us to work–"

"–I hate my body, okay? I hate everything about my body– especially my fuckin' tits because they're huge and– and saggy. So," she nods, a bitter one. "There, Harry. Happy?"

He coughs into his fist. "Happy?" He says, brows furrowing. "Why would I be happy about that, Y/N?" He gets up from his position, and moves closer to her body. He sits where her legs are, and pulls them onto his lap. "I love you–"

"–That doesn't help me."

"I know. But," a deep breath. "You gave birth to the most precious baby– our baby. You gave me the most precious gift, Y/N. For both of us. Of course your body will be different. Different does not mean bad."

She shakes her head, vigorously. "I hate it."

"Your body is beautiful. You are beautiful– every part of you, beautiful. Our daughter needs you–"

"–Well," she murmurs, bitterly. "It's her fault my tits are this huge and saggy."

"Baby," Harry can't help but laugh, and is comforted when he notices the side of her mouth lift in a small smile– a smirk. "I– God, I know this will sound creepy right now, but, I fuckin' love those tits."

"You're lying."

"Are you kidding me?" Harry shakes his head, and grabs her hands. "Remember last week? How I came when you basically smothered me with these big, juicy tits?" He laughs, getting closer and closer to her face as he presses their foreheads together.

"Yeah?"

"Baby," Harry smiles. "You make me weak in the knees– especially when you're naked."

"Harry," she whispers, a breathy gasp leaving her mouth when he goes to take the hoodie off. "What–"

"–Let me show you, honey," he murmurs, eyes shining when he notices the t-shirt underneath the hoodie was never there to begin with. He gives her a wolfish grin. "Let me show you how much these tits make me weak."

She clears her throat, clearly on board. "Okay," she nods, lips bitten. "Okay, yeah."

"Come here."

And, she does.

She moves closer to him on the bed, legs still on his lap, and Harry leans down to press kisses across her chest, where her necklace is before moving his kisses down, down, and at last, he reaches the tops of her breasts.

He looks up, a smile on his face, eyes nearly closing at the soft, warm skin over his mouth, and he feels himself get harder and harder when she looks at him with almost-shut eyes, bottom lip trapped between her teeth.

"Fucking hell," Harry closes his eyes as she places a hand behind his head, cradling his head as her fingers massage her skull. "I'm so hard."

"You are?"

He looks up, tongue darting out to lick around the nipple area. Her hips buck at the sudden feeling around her sensitive nipples. "I am. Have you seen these tits?" He breathes into her warm flesh, and bites the side of her boob before locking his lips around the dark nipple.

One hand cradles the other boob, and he feels her press his head harder into her, and it makes him smile around the hardened nipple. He bites, and squeezes her other nipple as he bites more into the sensitive nub, and when he feels the nipple leak, they both gasp, and he looks up immediately.

"Harry," he feels her breathe, and he feels her squeeze her thighs together as soon as he tries to suck on the pebbled nipple, both moaning as the milk leaks out of her nipple, into his throat.

Harry looks up, thumb still stroking her other nipple. "You're so fuckin' dirty, aren't you, baby?"

"Harry... please."

"Please, what? Hm?" He chooses to switch to the other nipple, his hand stroking the sensitive, spent breast before his lips close around the other one. He kisses, sucks, but nothing comes out this time.

"More."

He opens his eyes, in midst of devouring her. He retracts his mouth, and presses kisses between her breasts before looking up at her. "More, what?"

"Please– fuck, H– don't make me say it..." She whispers, clearly embarrassed about their previous interaction– or more like, his interaction with her breast.

"Say it."

"Harry..."

He squeezes the hard nub of her nipple, and the milk comes out, splattering his neck in the process. "Say it."

"Fuck– just– suck on them."

He grins, hand coming up to wipe the milk splatters from his neck. It's not much, not like what he would imagine it to look like– it's watery, and tastes nothing like the real thing.

"Y/N..." he murmurs, licking his fingers as if to clean the milk off of his fingers. He makes a show of it, and it makes her send her head back, and groan at the nasty, dirty sight. "I think we both know what we both want," he whispers, kissing the side of her boob before thumb and index finger squeezes her nipple very gently.

"Please, Harry..."

"Can I–" he lets go of her, and gets on his knees on the bed, her legs falling off of his lap. "Can I get comfortable?"

The look on her face almost makes him smile: she looks like a deer caught in the headlights.

"Harry..." she shakes her head, though he's having none of it.

"I want to suck on them, come on–" he walks over to her, still on his knees, and places his head on her lap, eyes on hers. "Breastfeed me."

"Harry... no."

"You know you want to– you know we both liked it– come on, baby, give it to me. Give it to your husband."

"Harry," she shakes her head, hand coming up to rest on her neck, just like she always does when stressed and confused. "I can't."

"Be a good little slut," Harry places his hand on her neck, and brings her face closer to his. He bites her bottom lip into his mouth, and lets go. "And feed your husband."

She gulps, and lets him straighten up a little in her lap, and she doesn't know what to do with her hands, so she places one on the back of his head, watching as he moves his mouth closer and closer to her breast. He opens his mouth, and gets his wet, warm mouth on her hardening nipple before he bites the nub, and licks over it.

He doesn't get to play, though, because he tightens his hold on her before he starts sucking on the nipple as her own hold tightens on the back of his head, a hiss leaving her mouth when it gets too tight and sensitive– his touch, his mouth.

"It– it hurts," she murmurs, fingers tightening their hold on his head as Harry sucks harder, clearly enjoying the feeling.

He doesn't respond, or make a move to get off. Instead, he swipes his tongue across the hard, tight, sensitive nub, and begins sucking harder, which makes the milk gush out even harder due to the movement of his tongue and mouth.

She feels it, feels the milk coming out, and when she looks down at the moaning mess that is Harry, she feels her walls, her pussy tighten at the dirty sight of him, the white liquid running down the sides of his mouth as the droplets meet his t-shirt.

Neither of them seem to care.

She can't help the itchy feeling between her legs, so one hand on his head, him still sucking, she places her hand on her clothed pussy, and start rubbing herself over the fabric.

Harry senses it, because he opens his eyes, and grins around her nipple before pressing kisses all over her wet, sticky breast.

It doesn't take long for her to come when she quickens her pace, her finger rubbing her clit up and down, despite the thin material of her shorts. She lets herself feel it all, the ringing in her ears finally dying down as he keeps pressing kisses across her chest, his other hand stroking her hip, and before she can ask if she can make him come, she notices the wet path in front of his joggers.

"Harry," she mutters, sending her head back so she lays on the pillows. Harry copies her, laying his head flat on her lap.

"Yeah?"

"Are we– we're not fucked up, are we?" She mumbles, biting the side of her thumb.

Harry lets out a chuckle. "No, I don't think so."

"Hm."

"Hey," he looks up, reaching a hand to stop her from biting her thumb. "I love you. So much."

She nods, smiling. "I love you, too."

"And," Harry says. "I love your body– I guess–" he lifts up his head, and looks at the front of his joggers before letting out a groan, then a chuckle. "–I guess it's clear how much I love your body."

"I guess so," she smiles, hands cradling his face as she strokes the hairs on his forehead, sending them back. "Thank you."

"Are you– thank you, you just made me cream my pants like I'm fourteen all over again."

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