have we considered lactation kink jack? or rabbot?
maybe she goes night shift after some weirdo stole her milk
not a request ofc!! just an idea
no because you’re correct (pls enjoy this alternative take on this and its part 2)
jack abbot x f!reader
tw: lactation kink
*****
It takes two more days with someone stealing your milk supply for you to put in an HR report. You switch shifts, too. Robby’s shocked when you tell him, tries to convince you to stay, but you’re too horrified by the repeated thievery to stay. It’s a pain in the ass to work out with childcare, but you make it happen.
Luckily, you quite enjoy working with Jack Abbot. He’s a fine attending, ready to hand the reigns over or push you past your comfort zone. He wants you to become a better doctor, and you are.
Two months later, you’re beginning to even consider Jack a friend. You keep each other in check. When you notice bags under Jack’s eyes, you’ll sneak him a cup of Joe. In return, when you’re too busy to eat, Jack will keep your pockets full of granola and candy bars. He’s compassionate, intelligent, and— oh! —extremely handsome.
Sure, his unbelievable hotness isn’t why you’re his friend, but it certainly sweetens the deal, especially when he decides to engage in some friendly, flirtatious banter. However, it is also the reason why you are entirely miserable to be in the situation that you’re currently in.
The staff lounge is supposed to be empty, which is exactly why you decided to tuck yourself in there when you felt the telltale sensation of a letdown. Unfortunately, you didn’t even make it to the paper towel dispenser when the door opened to reveal a very worried Jack.
“Hey,” he says softly. “Are you okay?”
“No! My— ah, shit — my pump broke last night, and I should be getting one in the mail today and— Fuck!” You turn away from Jack as you finally feel the letdown of milk. Trying to preserve the last of your dignity, you use your body to shield the act of hastily grabbing paper towels and shoving them in your bra. “I thought it would be fine. Apparently fucking not."
"Go home, get your pump. We'll stay afloat," Jack says like it's that simple. "Hell, the day off."
You shake your head, "I need the money, Jack. I have an infant with a diaper-dependency to fund."
Jack hums, nodding. He's quiet for a short while as you endlessly shove paper towels down your bra. When you seem to have sufficient protection, you smooth over the lumpy abomination that you've created in your bra. Well, the abomination that your tits created.
You turn around and send a sheepish smile to Jack, "The beauty of being a mother, right?"
Jack merely stares at you. His brows are furrowed, his expression harsh almost. You shrink under his gaze.
“Sorry,” you utter. “Maybe not the most appropriate thing I’ve ever said. ‘Specially covered in breastmilk and whatnot.”
“It’s not that,” Jack shakes his head. “I’m thinking.”
Great.
“Please don’t,” you attempt to joke. Your mortification can’t take this any longer.
Ignoring you, Jack says, “I could help you.”
You freeze. For a moment, the bone-deep burn of humiliation melts away with the pain in your breasts as you stare at Jack, who stares right back at you.
“W-What?” You ask. You try playing it off, joking, “What, you’re gonna suck my tits?”
He shrugs. Dead serious, he says, “If it’ll help.”
“Jack, I—“ You force a laugh. It’s disingenuous but feels worlds better than the suffocating silence that followed Jack’s offer. “You don’t need to do that. No. I mean to say no. Thank you, though.”
Jack smiles. It’s not tight, not nervous, just a genuine smile.
“Okay,” he says, giving you a mock salute, “Let me know if you change your mind.”
Well basically that is around after this drawing. I used to draw Shadow Milk's bodysuit normally...until I saw some people on Pinterest draw him with a boob window and I said haha but he's so plain
Then I tried it for the funsies
And from that moment on I couldn't stop drawing him otherwise...(And had to draw him boobies for the sake of it, but I'm pretty sure he's flat af)
TW: suggestive below, basically Milky being milked
this also reminds me of this masterpiece over here I found little ago on AO3... it's so cursed...it's...beautiful....
rielle discovering the wonders of lactation w/ hucow prefect. she's so embarrassed when he slings his arm around her shoulder and she starts leaking through her shirt ;;;
👁️ 👁️ hucow who has always struggled to produce lots of milk,, and suddenly you’re leaking buckets of it whenever Rielle’s around. >:) what if hucow with a smaller chest, too? You used to feel pathetic with how small your tits are. They’re nothing like the elegant and beautiful pairs other hucows your age boast. :/ it doesn’t help that your milk production seems so low, too. You’re so ashamed. :(
But now Rielle’s put an arm around you and is chatting your ear off, and you can feel wetness pooling in your bra, soaking through to your shirt. You try to excuse yourself from the conversation because now the wet patches are visible on your shirt, but Rielle keeps chattering away. Eventually, he even takes notice of your quickly dampening shirt and is so curious, full of questions as always.
“No way… You’re actually… that’s…milk?!” he marvels when you duck into an empty classroom to slide your bra down and gauge how bad it is. Your tits look more swollen than they normally are when it’s time for a routine milking, and no matter how hard you try to stifle it milk just keeps trickling out.
You don’t feel embarrassed to be naked in front of him. Nudity is commonplace in the sea. But also it’s hard to feel embarrassed about being exposed when he’s less focused on seeing a girl’s tits and more captivated by the milk. That’s what makes you shift uncomfortably. You try to apologize because maybe he thinks it’s gross, but he doesn’t understand why you’re saying that. :< this isn’t a bad thing, right? He’s learned about all kinds of land animals and since you’re part cow… it makes sense for this to happen, right? It’s natural.
Of course, Rielle also gets ahead of himself in his excitement and asks if he can taste it. You were planning to milk yourself in the bathroom once you finished explaining the concept of lactation and milk production for the average hucow, but he’s already insisting on doing it himself.
No one’s ever asked that of you. Maybe you should be offended or weirded out, but instead you shrug and slide your unbuttoned blouse down to give him more access. Rielle is…clumsy. He grabs hold of your breast and squeezes, and you’re so super sensitive you can’t help mooing lowly. >_< he blushes crab-red and babbles an apology. He’ll be gentler, he promises!! And he is, after some trial and error (and struggling to curb all his restless energy). <3 gently kneading your tits like he’s seen bakers do to bread. :3 it’s messy and in no time he’s leaned in to take a slick nipple in his mouth, the other teased and pinched between his fingers. They’re small enough to fit nicely in his palm. You really do feel pampered.
The relief is so good you slump in your seat, rub your thighs together, squeeze your eyes shut. This feels so much better than when you milked yourself. Maybe it’s because you actually have more than enough milk this time. Maybe it’s because he’s surprisingly good at coaxing it all out. And maybe it’s also incredibly charming to witness a mer’s voracious appetite. >:) perhaps all of the above hehe.
If it's not too much trouble please make pregnancy headcanons for Franco... He would have no idea how to care for a pregnant reader lol
YESYESYES!! he really doesn't, lmao. But he's a fast learner! (kinda). This ended up being really long, i saw your other ask and i'll be posting a part 2 soon for specifically dad! Franco HCs! :3 (also please never worry about sending too many asks! I promise you can never send too many!)
C/W: Fluff, NSFW/pregnancy sex mentioned. Pregnant! reader. AFAB! reader. Dad! Franco. Lactation kink mentioned unsurprisingly. Shockingly really soft?? (i need some franco fluff sorry chat). mentions of non-con. Possibly OOC? my personal take on him!
FRANCO x PREGNANT READER ── HCs!
Pregnant? The moment the words leave your mouth, it feels like time just…stops. Whether or not he’d planned this, it doesn’t matter. The reality of the situation hits a lot harder than he’d been expecting. He’s happy! Sure! But he’ll probably bluescreen for a minute or two before snapping back into reality. Fuck – he’s gonna be a dad? He doesn’t know the first thing about babies…aside from acting like one–
After he snaps out of the slight daze, though, all his attention is placed on you. “Are you okay? Is– it… okay?” He’ll quietly rub your back and shush you if you’re crying, he knows it’s stressful for you but not taking it back now, right? (don’t bring up abortion unless you want him to tie you to a bed til the baby gets here.)
It dawns on him very quickly he isn’t only responsible for taking care of the baby once it arrives, but you as well. I think it’d start with morning sickness, honestly. He wakes up one morning to find you hunched over the toilet dry heaving and is like “Oh. Shit–”
Franco is pretty bad at comfort. He never really got it growing up, so don’t expect any mushy words about how strong and brave you are. But he will sit with you and hold your hair back if you need it. He’s good at being physically present! Just…being emotionally present isn’t something he gets.
If you tell him you need something, he’ll get it for you with minimal questions. He might grumble a bit but if you even try to get up and do it yourself he’ll snap and tell you to sit your butt down. You’re carrying his baby, after all. What kinda man would he be if he made his pregnant S/O get up and get their own things? The sexism goes from about a 6 on the scale to an 8 overnight. Suddenly, you’re too fragile to do anything on your own.
He treats you like you’re made of glass. You can see it on his face when he touches you, how his hands tremble a bit before resting on the curve of your waist. He’s terrified of hurting you because he knows the kinda man he is. He knows what he does to people. And he couldn’t stomach the thought of hurting you or the baby.
He also fights with you less. It isn’t uncommon to bicker and argue with Franco, he’s an asshole. But, ever since you got pregnant? Suddenly he’s more inclined to just shut his fat mouth. He’ll start saying something mean, cut himself off, and just walk away instead. If you ask him about it it’ll just piss him off, so take the blessings where you can and don’t acknowledge the strange behavior.
Speaking of strange behavior… he’s suddenly very attuned to your facial expressions and vocal cues. Franco doesn’t know a whole lot about pregnancy, that’s female crap… but he knows you, and he knows you like the back of his hand. Your tone wavered a bit? He’s pulling you onto his lap because he knows you’re about to cry. You won’t meet his eyes? Nausea, he’ll go get a bucket and some crackers. Your lip trembled? You must be hungry, let him go get you something.
He’ll feed you like crazy. Not just because he thinks it’d be cute if you got a little softer but because he’s absolutely convinced you do genuinely need to eat for two. “What do you mean that’s just a sayin’? No it ain’t. Just shut up and eat! You ain’t gonna starve my kid!”
You’re responsible for telling him things you’re not allowed to have, by the way. And even then, he’s still gonna argue with you. He genuinely doesn’t understand why you can’t have certain foods, and every time you try to explain that whatever you eat goes right to the baby… he just kinda zones out. “Yeah yeah, no deli-meat or alcohol. Whatever, doll.”
Just because you gotta give it up doesn’t mean he’s gonna. Don’t even try to ask him to stop drinking, he’ll burst a blood vessel. You want him to stop drinking? You wanna punish him just cause you can’t have any? Fat chance. Expect him to be just as intoxicated as he usually is. The only thing that really changes on that front is he at least has the decency to not smoke around you anymore.
Don’t bring up the smoking thing though. He gets really embarrassed if you acknowledge the fact he always leaves the room/waits til you’re asleep to enjoy a cigar.
He always goes to appointments with you. Both because he does genuinely care about you and the baby, but also because he just really doesn’t trust doctors with you. What if they try to do some weird experiments on you or something? He isn’t gonna take that chance. He’ll stand quietly beside you with his arms crossed, dissecting every interaction. The moment you’re uncomfortable he’s speaking up. You might be too nice to tell a doctor to fuck off but he sure isn’t.
The only time he’s ever really respectful is when the baby’s health is being brought up, and that’s only because it’s the only thing he can think about at that moment. He won’t ever admit it out loud but he’s terrified of the baby coming out like him. He might have some complicated feelings on children/being a father but he’d never want his child to suffer the same way he did. Physically and emotionally.
Ultrasounds really didn’t become common til around the 70’s iirc, so, unfortunately it feels like a coin toss at times. The most important thing to him, though, is that it’s healthy and growing normally. Which, it is. Thankfully.
Expect him to be a bit cuddly after appointments. Quiet, but cuddly. He’ll just wanna hold you for a bit, maybe take a nap together. He knows how tired you are, you blinked too many times, clear sign you need a nap.
Once you start to show is when things really set in for him. Sure, the pregnancy is always lingering in the back of his mind but it’s easy sometimes to forget you’re actually carrying a baby inside you, y’know? Seeing the physical evidence of it makes it more real. And– shockingly? He loves it.
The moment he sees your tummy beginning to round out, he’s all over you. If you thought he was clingy before you ain’t seen nothing yet. His hands always tend to linger at your waist, admiring the shape of you like he’d carved you from stone himself. He’s in awe of just how pretty you look… yet still so afraid he’s gonna hurt you.
Suddenly, he refuses to argue with you at all. Before, he’d at least bicker a bit before deciding to call it quits and drop it. But now? He’s far more willing to just let shit go than ever before. Is he still as hot headed as usual? Yeah. But he absolutely refuses to lose his temper with you. “What if the baby hears or somethin’?” his excuse to write off the sudden change of heart. He can’t just admit he hates seeing you cry. Especially now.
Eventually things just kinda become routine. He remembers the things you’re craving, knows all your little cues, knows when to back off vs when to push you. The only thing he doesn’t have under control is your mood swings.
Hormones can really mess you up at times. One minute you’re totally fine, the next you’re sobbing over a song on the radio, then screaming at Franco for daring to turn the thing off. It's the only thing he can’t predict and it’s incredibly frustrating for him. He’ll try his best to comfort you the best he can, but most of the time it ends with him needing to leave the room. The urge to just grab you and shake you gets too overwhelming… be grateful he’s holding back, yeah?
He holds back in other aspects as well. In the bedroom he holds back a lot. Not because he wants to, but because he loves you and he’s so scared of hurting you. The running theme here is Franco is scared of himself lmao.
He stops forcing himself onto you. Shocking, I know. Usually he has no issue keeping your relationship free-use (dub/non, your pick). But…he just can’t stomach it anymore. If you were anyone else, he’d have no problem. But you’re you. You’re his doll. The mother of his baby. He can’t do that to you…
Suddenly your sex life goes from rough plowings and tears to “Is this okay?...Can I touch here…? …does this hurt?” It’s nice being tended to, and he’s extra careful the closer you get to your due date…even if it’s really hard for him to ignore how gorgeous you look.
If you’d let him, he’d be screwing you all the time. How could he not want you like this? Your breasts nice and full, your stomach rounded out, your curves a bit softer… he’ll never let you feel insecure, not even for a second. Don’t start the “I’m fat” stuff with him, he’ll spend hours worshiping your body to prove to you you’re still just as gorgeous to him as always.
Speaking of body worship…not really body worship but the closer you get to your due date the more fixated on your belly he becomes. Lots of kisses, and rubbing. Sometimes he’ll even talk to the baby if he’s feeling sappy enough. He’ll only do it if you’re asleep (or pretending to be) though. Sometimes you can hear him murmuring little things like “Don’t kick your mama so hard.” and “Wonder how you’re doin’ in there…”
The day inevitably arrives though. And labor is…labor. Honestly? I think it’d be a blur for him. Suddenly he remembers his own mother, how she died giving birth to him and how scared he is the same thing is gonna happen to you. Fuck. Could he ever forgive himself if he killed you? Even if unintentionally?
Thankfully (And because this isn’t angst), things go smoothly, and soon he’s watching you cuddle a tiny screaming pink blob against your chest. It’s a girl!!
Franco barbi is a girl dad YOU CANNOT CONVINCE ME OTHERWISE. He was secretly hoping for a girl. The thought of having to share you with a hypothetical son made him wanna rip (what was left of) his hair out. So, he’s relieved when it’s a baby girl… So much so that he cries! Openly! Full blown sobs of relief! Don’t. Don’t acknowledge it… just let him get it out of his system, he needed a good cry.
It really doesn’t matter what your daughter looks like, whether she has the same disabilities as her father or whether she’s able-bodied. He doesn’t care. She’s the most adorable little thing he’s ever laid eyes on and he’ll fucking kill anyone who dares to hurt her. Good luck letting any sort of doctors or nurses near her, Franco isn’t against ripping someone apart with his bare hands if it means his little girl is safe.
He just…man, he’s bad at the whole being a dad thing. You can try to help him all you want but his inner dude bro has him zone out and forget everything you said. “That’s all shit for women, doll…” He says, yet still tries to help change and feed her. If there’s one thing he’s good at, it’d be holding her. He loves cuddling the baby!
He will help out if you’re sleeping though. Even if he’s awful at changing diapers, or remembering to burp her, he still does it because waking you up feels like a crime to him. You just pushed a whole baby out of you… why on god’s green earth would he wake you up and make you take care of the kid when he’s right here?
Once you’re both back home, that doesn’t change. He’ll pretend to grumble about “doing everything” yet still do it and refuse to let you help. Don’t even try arguing with him over it, he’ll immediately shut you down. He doesn’t wanna hear it, you need to heal.
You also need to feed the baby…if you do decide to breast feed. He won’t argue with you if you don’t wanna breast feed the baby… but you will be breast feeding him. He’s a sick man, and he’s waited 40 whole weeks for those boobs to start producing. He WILL be getting a taste.
It’s always late at night when you’re both in bed together, when the baby’s asleep in the nursery and he knows she’ll be down for a while. The last thing he wants is to get started then hear wailing coming from the other room… kills the mood. So he’s patient enough to wait his turn.
He never forces anything further than just…let me suck your boobs (shockingly). He’s willing to get himself off quietly, no need for you to help. This is enough for him. He’s happy with this, trust him. Like– yes, he misses being inside you, but he also is aware of the fact you’re healing and he really can’t indulge. He can wait the six weeks…it won’t kill him.
Overall his personality really does just…tone down. At least, with you. And your daughter! I think in a way having a family comes easy for him at times. He knows what his father was like, so he has a blueprint on what not to do… is he perfect? No. He’s still the monster he’s always been. But he’s gonna do his damndest to make sure your daughter is loved and happy.
A/N: THIS WAS SO LONG. At some point i had to tell myself to stop because it's literally almost 5 pages long in the doc... sorry if i missed anything, this was not beta read! (my lovely sweet dear friend beta reader doesn't like pregnancy stuff, i shaln't torture them with this LMFAO.) Part 2 coming soon...prommy! I'll ramble more there!
credits: @.neosprites @.omi-resources @.mieluno @.saradika-graphics @.suupersonic @.cafekitsune // if anyone can lmk who made the Franco heart i would be so happy, i found it on pinterest without credits :(
could you write more incests/ddlg smut? with lots of praise and maybe lactation? 🥺💗
⋆⁺₊❅⋆ 𐙚 ₊˚ SWEET TOOTH . wriothesley x fem reader
warnings ꒱ྀི daddy kink. lactation. tit sucking. male masturbation. cum swallowing / 18+
this can kinda be interpreted as incest but it’s more so just a regular daddy kink drabble if anything! but I saw dis an opportunity to talkie more abt wrio since he’s been heavy on the brain ! also today happens 2 be his birthday ☆ tiddy milkies is his gift ! !
wriothesley rarely seeks out certain affections, but after the tumultuous build-up of fatigue, frustration, and annoyance he begins to find himself making his way into the very arms that rid him of those burdens. you’re already on your back when he enters the shared room— and while what he wants lies under your shirt, you make no effort to remove your top.
he likes your hardened nipples, puffed and erotically pressing against the tightness of your tank.
already accustomed to the routine, you slowly spread your thighs to welcome his larger body. you’re smaller than him, so he’s careful to avoid laying on you with his full weight.
he flicks and circles your nipples before sucking onthem over the fabric until it darkens with his spit. it’s only when your patterned camisole becomes too damp is when he exposes your sore tits swollen with milk.
his stare doesn’t falter from your lewd body, instead choosing to get more comfortable. he peels off his coat and undoes a couple of buttons of his shirt. he leans against you again to latch onto your chest. your breast in his mouth jiggles from his gentle suck that steadily increases in vigor.
he relaxes when you run your fingers through his hair tugging his soft strands. the man above you almost melts— he's temporarily free of all stress and worries, only able to focus on the sweetness that coats his throat. each nipple gets increasingly sloppy from his ministrations. he nips and licks at your areola, slurping any milk that dripped until he finds himself becoming insatiable.
wriothesley parts from your flesh only to capture both hardened buds between his lips. the shock makes you obediently arch your back and the pleasure is nearly maddening. thick cream from both of your nipples warms his mouth and he swallows diligently.
“ . . . I think I m-might cum like this.”
you drag out the syllables sounding close to something resembling a frustrated whine.
it was never really your intention to become aroused. you only ever want to satisfy him to his heart's content, but he treats you so fondly. he sucks your milk like it’s as sweet as honey, laced with sugar as though he had a sweet tooth. it wasn’t within your realm of control to muffle out the mewls that would inevitably tumble out being that didn’t seem like he wanted to stop.
light air brazed over your folds from his shifting. your pussy quivered and leaked from the lack of attention. your cunt was only awarded the faint touch of clothes as wriothesley sank his body closer to yours. you weren't sure how much longer you could be left hanging.
it was a game — the urge to cum shuffling between push and pull. it nears when you concentrate on the sensation of your tender nipples but stilts when your slick hole thumped with a jarring emptiness. so close and still far away.
wriothesley wants to smile at your admittance. he puckers around your breasts briefly before pulling away, crooning into your chest.
“cummin’ from your tits alone ?”
he raises his head in awe to get a better look at your unraveling. he jerks his thumb towards your nipple rubbing it in small circles to soothe the sensitive area.
“I haven’t even touched that little pussy yet .”
he teases you though he’s aware of his own limits. his cock strained against his jeans scuffing against the sturdy material. it slowly pulses, beckoning for release. he moves to kneel on the bed, knees on the sides of your relaxed frame. you remain still as his hands fumble with his zipper.
he pulls the metal down and it almost hurts to touch his bulge. It’s hot when his thick fingers enclose around the base, steadily getting tighter.
“daddy can’t blame you though,” he grunts, slowly pumping his length in languid motions.
“just look at my fuckin’ cock, princess. I’m hard just at the sight of you.” the swollen head creams pre-cum and it splats against your sternum. he jerks off over your chest at the view of your plump tits coated with saliva and milk.
“so cute,” he mumbles.
heat coats the apples of your cheeks and with each breath you take, your chest only begins to trickle out more of your sweetness. he positions his cock head against your sloppy nipples to catch the fluid.
he nastily wipes his tip around your achy bud— the feeling of the hardened flesh probing the middle of his flushed member was enough to make his balls twitch and threat to expel his load. wriothesley takes his other hand to pull the taut button hoping to hear more of your girlish noises.
“daddy ! y-you’re gonna ruin me. . you’re twisting my nipples -! ” you squeal.
your hips move on their own accord without guidance, slowly grinding on the bed in senseless want.
“yeah, and daddy’s gonna cum on them,” he replies in a breathless grunt. his cock is audibly wet, and he squeezes your breast, using your milk and his semen to enhance the slipperiness of his grip.
“you’re so pretty. . pretty face and fuckin’ tits, angel.”
he lifts up his shirt and bites it with his teeth, he’s growing warm, sweat glistens on his abdomen, his stomach flexing with each jerk of his fist. you watch him unabashedly as he pleasures himself.
“like what you see, doll face? since you’ve been so good, how about I give you some daddy’s milk in return?” he laughs. he feels filthy tainting his sweet girl like this, but his desire tossed any rationality he had left out the window.
“mhm . . I wan’ it daddy. ahh~”
you open your mouth and let you tongue loll out. you struggle to keep your eyes open in case his cum jets out unexpectedly but you still want to your daddy fuck himself to completion . his hand speeds up faster, and his breathing becomes ragged at your expression.
he never thought he’d find himself pathetically fucking his fist at the sight of his pretty girl with milky tits but he’s never been more eager.
“here it is baby,” he drawls.
“fuuuuuck.”
roughly, slotting his cock between your breasts, his tip messily bumps your bottom lip. both hands grab your nipples to pull your tits together and his girth gets swallowed by your fat mounds.
it’s a fucking sight.
he sloppily fucks those tits he spent hours decorating with his drool, and it becomes even more decorative as his cum spurts out in ribbons.
wriothesley goes faster, riding out his high, and his heavy balls pulse after his release.
cum stains your face and mouth, and you lick your lips, tasting the salty fluid covering your tastebuds.
he grumbles, “good girl, suck it up just like that.”
your mouth suckles on his member and presses light kisses on the length of his shaft.
savor it he wants to say, he wants to see your mouth do other things, but he couldn’t possibly be so greedy after already getting his fill.
he reeled back to the edge of the bed and removes the remaining layers of his clothes. his chains, jewelry, his shirt, and pants. the look on his face left you feeling excited, maybe even a little scared at what awaited you. especially when the duke gives you a sly smile with lids low and heavy.
Just so everyone knows… I didn’t forget about this one. “Got Milk?” is coming soon. (this week) ((before Wednesday)) (((honestly probably in 12-36 hrs)))
A/n: I got nothing. I don't know. This is nothing. This is like. Minor lactation kink and some conversation lol. Everything is going under the cut. Here. Have his smug face as my penance.
R/D!Urge: Drink
“Your son was not hungry.”
There’s an archness to her tone that causes Raphael to lift his head. The duchess lingers near the edge of his vision, a conspicuous distance kept between them. Vanity has kept her from his bed and out of his company; he does not miss the excess fabric draped across her form, designed to hide the extra weight and the heaviness of her breasts.
The body did not feel like her own, she’d admitted once, head held high. Daring him to argue, perhaps hoping he might. He had no interest in the conversation one way or another.
“This is of interest to me?”
Joi frowns, gaze dropping. He will not say she is diminished, but there is somehow…a shift---in her bearing, in her essence. She was much the same in the months following their daughter’s birth. Discomforted and robbed of her self-possession, hormones and exhaustion forming some wretched amalgamation. He sees the ragged seams of her fraying control, places where he might hook his fingers and pull. And worse, he thinks she could not muster the energy to stop him. She hugs his stolen robe more tightly about herself. “Please, Raphael. For once, no games.”
“No games, no whimsy…how tiresome.” He leans back in his seat, folding his hands over his stomach. “Come.”
The duchess crosses to him, and it occurs to him again how little he likes her like this---this dour little thing. She settles across his lap, wincing as she adjusts herself. The boy…the prince, he amends, had not come into the world as delicately as his sister. It’d taken days to clear the stench of blood from the boudoir.
His sorceress leans her head against his chin, grumbling and drawing his arms around her. Raphael plucks at the robe’s tie. “Why have you come, pet?”
She huffs, “Am I no longer welcome in your boudoir, my duke?”
“You seemed happy enough to keep your own company.”
Joi pinched the back of his hand. “Your son, your heir, needed me.”
“The princess is my heir. The boy…”
“Raphael.” Her tone is softer than he expects, not the righteous fury he hopes to elicit. Too tired, no games, no sport. “Please.” She leads his hand to her breast, heat radiating from the milk-swollen flesh. He pushes the robe apart. The nipple is badly chafed, reddened, and oversensitive. “As I said…your son would not drink.”
“Haarlep would leap at the chance to relieve you.”
“Haarlep,” his duchess purrs, fingers stroking back through his hair, scraping across his scalp. “Is no king. My body bore princes and princesses…should it nourish him?”
The devil chuckles, lifting her from his lap and onto his desk. “Oh, wicked thing. A fair point.”
She winces when he spreads her legs. He shifts to his human form in a fit of deference, holding her knees tight to his side. Raphael acts with uncharacteristic care, bowing her back. The devil presses a kiss to her sternum, cupping her right breast to relieve the pressure before suckling.
Her hand moves to the back of his neck, holding him in place. Joi’s sigh borders on rapturous relief rather than pleasure. He finds himself cataloging these noises, each one fascinating: a scrape of teeth and she hisses; more direct pressure and she’ll squeeze her legs around him. It’s best to press the flat of his tongue to her skin, open-mouthed and indirect, and then she makes such pretty noises. So sweet.
He presses his hand between her shoulder blades, exaggerating the bow of her back. He sucks a bruise into the rise of her breast before shifting his attention to the left, repeating the process. She’s slackened in his arms, relaxing into his touch now that the worst of her discomfort has passed.
Raphael swallows, pulling back to admire his work. He wipes a stray bead of milk with his thumb, bringing it to his lips to lick it clean. His duchess shivers, staring at him with wide, hungry eyes, mouth still partially slack.
He kisses her, letting her taste herself on his tongue, slow and languid.
And when all is said and done, Joi presses him back into his seat. His duchess sinks to her knees with neither comment nor complaint, only a delicious look of self-satisfaction, hunger she longs to satiate.
NSFW Ghost Ramblings - 18+ MDNI, AGELESS BLOGS DNI
(CW: Lactation) [Masterlist]
You're more than a little strange. There's certainly a few screws loose in that ol' head of yours, but Simon would be lying if he said he didn't like that about you.
Now though..? Simon's not sure what to think.
He feels good, obviously, what with your tongue laving relentlessly over his nipple while your hand toys absent-mindedly with the other. God, he's really gonna lose it if you squeeze him like that agai-
"Fuck, fuck," he pants out, pleas slipping down into a frantic groan.
He reaches out for something to hold onto, hand quickly balling into a fist in the center of the throw pillow beside him. His hips jut forward, colliding with the softness of your stomach where you're knelt in front of him, latched onto his chest like the milk he'd started leaking was the only thing keeping you alive.
You've never done anything like this to him before. Granted, he's never randomly started lactating either, but after a quick search and a rather aghast call to his doctor, he'd come to learn his new medication was likely the culprit. They couldn't get him an appointment til Monday, though, and that was nearly a week away.
So who was he to deny you when the offer of relief for his aching chest finally arose? You assured him you would be gentle, and you were. He's just ridiculously sensitive.
His eyes snap down to you, lashes fluttering with each purse of your lips around his puffy nipple, watching the thin liquid leaking out with each suck. Groans morph into dulcet whimpers when he notices it dribbling down your chin.
"You're wastin' it," he insists, cupping your jaw in a futile attempt to prevent more of a mess being made, pouting at you for what you think is the first time in his life.
All you want to do is pout in return. Can't help it that you're a sloppy eater sometimes, but he's been so nice indulging you like this. It'd be cruel not to soothe him.
"I know, baby. I know," you coo as you briefly pull off, lapping up the liquid that's gathered in his palm and doing what you can to clean his chest, too. "I'm sorry."
He whines, and you drink down the noise, meeting his lips in a kiss before he can complain about the loss of your mouth on him. Your hands, meanwhile, find their way up to grab at his chest properly. One firm squeeze is all it takes to have his hips bucking yet again, a heady sound escaping between your mouths.
Another few more and you're watching in awe as he cums untouched, choking out moans with his head tipped back in unexpected bliss. <3
Short little PSA btw: If you as an AMAB person are not purposefully trying to lactate and you start lactating, please see your doctor. This is like exaggerated a decent bit, but generally, as I'm sure you can guess, that shit isn't supposed to happen.
Writing not permitted for reposting, transcription, translation or to use with AI technologies.
