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#I owe him a drawing so here it is
voidslvt · 1 year
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Concept art of a egregorian for a mutual, design is based off a jewel beetle
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(I don’t know anything about Lancer sorry)
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saewokhrisz · 1 year
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genji i also drew with my left (actually first proper attempt at drawing with my nondominant one and boy was i surprised, albeit it was a bit torturous hfdsjhdf) the irony that it ended being the best genji i drew so far, imo....
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moeblob · 1 month
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I vote for Argenti! I hope you feel better soon!
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Thank you ! I do feel much better (though I admit I hurt a little for very much my fault reasons but it's mostly manageable through light pain meds).
Take an Argenti o7 I got lazy and didn't draw the roses I was gonna draw to the left so there is now a wide open blank spot.
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skitkattl · 1 year
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i'm sorry the two pokepasta drawings i've done in a row have been based on babygirl twt meme poses it will happen again
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+ og ref image again lmao
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trssshh · 5 months
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friendly reminder that no one has been called a "demon prosecutor" besides Edgeworth. NO ONE,not one of the Von Karmas,not Godot,Not Van Zieks,no one else.
So whatever he did was definetly something so bad, so vile, so evil, so HORRIFIC and inhumane that he got called a demon by everyone. Tittle wich obviously is not winned easily.
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deathberi · 2 years
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happy halloween! 🧟‍♂️🦇
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grimmorcaa · 1 year
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fuckiggn..hango..love this guy so silly
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lizord-lord · 1 year
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4/4 dp au boys at last! have a boy who has seen Tron too many times, drawn by someone who has not seen Tron even once
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xay2jang · 2 years
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do u ever think about how heiji is the bestest goodest boy ever.? bc he is
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I reckon I probably owe about 60% of my drawing ability to Aidan Gallagher
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catharsistheory · 2 years
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reach out touch faith
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cherry-shipping · 1 year
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ouwaaaaaaaaaaahhh sans undertale My heart beats for that guy
#cherry chats#wish i could like. do something about it#like idk draw or even talk about him#but uhh. ive said everything there is and i am Still unable to draw#aside from that piece of shit i posted on here the other day LMAO but idk if that counts#blaurgh. i still feel like shit for not being able to goddamn draw.#and whenever i feel motivated to try my hypersomnia is like Ahhh but how about quick nap first ?#and it bats its sleepy eyelashes at me and i love my hypersomnia so im like yes alright you little rascal#were gonna need the energy for drawing anyway. lets have a little nap ^__^#then i wake up 9 hours later and drawing is the thing furthest from my mind#blargh blargh blourgh. just wish i could damn well DO something with my feelings#instead of just making generic ass posts like this#i feel the need to. create uhh. SOMETHING#i should let people place bets on when im gonna draw again and for every day i dont they get to charge interest#so in the end i have to either draw or end up owing them like 500 bucks#ugh. uuuuuuuuuuuuuuughhh. im just gonna drink sum more wine and then go to bed -_- whatever#it feels like theres never enough time to do anything cause i sleep so goddamn much#and this weekend im getting drunk and high on both e and weed so ill for sure not have any time then#at least i feel confident ill be able to make something for toris birthday. i know ur anxious about it but if theres anythnig i can do to#make it feel special just let me know ok because i love you and you deserve feeling special and getting attention and stuff
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mrkis · 8 months
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raw. (m.l)
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PAIRING: mark lee x afab!reader GENRE: smut WORD COUNT: 3.4k
SYNOPSIS: you find out you're out of condoms as soon as you and mark are about to have sex. feeling defeated, mark opts to go relieve himself in the bathroom but you suggest maybe that its time for him to finally fuck you raw.
CONTENT WARNINGS: explicit content, established relationship, light touching, starts off with sweet!mark then switches to pussy drunk!mark, unprotected sex, creampie, heavy use of 'my girl' and 'baby', nasty dirty talk mark doesn't shut the fuck up,
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“I’ve missed you.” Mark mouths at your skin, arms tight around your middle as he presses you against his chest, breathing in the scent of your body wash and perfume as he nuzzles his head into the crevice of your neck. You smile, lacing your fingers through his hair as you melt into his embrace and he hums at the soft tugs you give, suckling and nipping at the spot where your shoulder and neck meet.
“Ow,” A giggle leaves your lips as Mark bites down a little too hard and your body angles away from him, only for him to whine and try and draw your back to him, muttering an apology against your neck as he tightens his hold on you. “We can’t stand here all day, Mark.”
Mark huffs as if what you’ve stated is something so offensive it hurts his feelings, shoulders sagging as he reluctantly lets you go but his hand slips into your own, intertwining your fingers as he allows you to pull him to a more suitable place than your front door, dragging his socked covered feet across the floorboards as he takes in your home, a warmth spreading through his chest.
Mark missed being at your place, the sweet familiar smell of a candle that was previously burning filling his senses, the hum of the TV playing your favourite show in the background, the subtle misplaced ornaments and potted plants that you’ve picked up to move or admire.
He takes a glance at your kitchen as he passes it, noticing a dish and a bowl soaking in soapy water and he smiles knowing you’ve eaten already, wondering if it was something delicious and filling for you. He wants to ask what it could’ve been, but the question remains on the tip of his tongue as you’re pulling him towards your bedroom.
And that’s when he feels most at home. 
The bag that was once resting on his shoulders drops to the ground, mindlessly being kicked to the side as his body finally relaxes, the tiredness that he’s used to pushing at the back of his mind comes front and centre, sluggishly making his way towards the unmade bed and planting himself down on the edge. 
The hand that's holding yours pulls you between his open legs and he rests his cheek on your stomach, embracing you as he once did a few moments prior and he sighs happily as your fingers resume playing with his hair. 
“How was work?”
“Fine,” His tone is quiet and gentle. “Japan was fun. Yuta was our tour guide again and was taking us to all these places,” Mark moves his head a little to look up at you, resting his chin on your stomach inside. “I took some pictures for you—ones I haven’t sent you yet.” 
You’re more than eager to see what pictures Mark wants to show you, gently pushing him up the bed for him to lay comfortably and he laughs, reaching into his pocket to retrieve his phone while his other arm curls around you, holding you close to his side and pressing his lips to the top of your head, finding comfort in the scent of your shampoo as he unlocks his phone, clicking the camera roll app and your eyes widen in excitement seeing all the recent photos you haven’t seen.
You’re in awe watching him scroll through the photos, the scenery and the colours of it all leaving you speechless, hanging onto every word as he tells you the story behind them all, some comical and others sweet and endearing. 
“Seeing this one, like, reminded me of you.” He whispers against your head as he shows you a picture of a sunset, a blend of pinks and oranges making your heart flutter. “It’s pretty—calming, made me feel at ease. It made me miss you even more than I already did, you know.”
“You called me every night,” You tell him, laughing as he groans and rolls his eyes, throwing his phone to the side before gripping your hips, pulling your body on top of his and massaging your thighs with his fingers, kneading the skin as they settle on each of his sides. 
“You know it’s not the same,” Mark argues, tongue swiping across his bottom lip. “I love hearing your voice over the phone but, like, having you there with me physically means more to me. I get to hold you, I get to touch you… I get to kiss my girl.”
“Is that so?”
Mark hums with a short nod of his head before he cranes his neck up to meet your lips in a short but sweet kiss, squeezing your thighs once you reciprocate and he smiles against your lips as he feels your hands cradle his cheeks.
Then, you feel it. His hard cock pressing your inner thigh, twitching with each subtle movement of your hips as you rest your entire weight on him, causing him to grunt against your lips due to the pressure on his cock. 
“Are you tired?” You pull away from his lips to ask him and you bite back the smile that threatens to spread across your cheeks as Mark follows, wanting your mouth back on his. 
“A little,” He admits, squeezing your thighs. “But I don’t care. Just want you.”
Warmth fills your chest, “You want me?”
“So bad.” 
You don’t have time to swoon over his words as he’s already leaning up and reconnecting your lips in a much deeper kiss, biting down on your bottom lip and sliding his tongue into your mouth to tangle with your own all while his hands slip around to grip your ass, pulling you ever closer so that your chest is pressed against his. 
You kiss for a while, relishing in the way his lips feel on yours, familiar with the slow and unrushed pace he takes and your hands curl around the front of his shirt, signalling for him to take it off immediately and he smiles against your mouth, breaking the kiss for a moment to allow you to pull the material over his head.
He’s giving you a toothy smile, eyes twinkling with adoration as he stares up at you and his fingers twitch over the hem of your shirt, ready to take it off and you happily give him permission to do so, raising your arms in the air and Mark tugs it off, throwing it carelessly to the side before his hands touch your skin, palms hot and clammy as he brings you in for another kiss, one that's more desperate and needy.
Mark’s moaning shamelessly into your mouth when your hands dip beneath the waistband of his sweatpants and boxers, first curling around his cock and giving him a few experimental pumps that has him almost drawing blood on your lip when he bites down a little too hard.
“Easy,” You hum with a giggle and Mark groans, craning his neck as he throws his head back against the pillows, tongue licking his bottom lip as your hand squeezes around his cock. He lifts his hips as you begin to rid him of the rest of his clothing and you awkwardly manoeuvre above him, laughing as you almost topple over if it wasn’t for the hold he has on your hips.
“You go easy,” Mark teases you this time and you roll your eyes. You drop your hands from him to finally peel off the rest of your own clothes and he watches you with hooded lids, resting one arm behind his head while the other wraps around his cock to jerk himself off as he takes in your naked body, something he’s seen plenty of times before but he views it as if it's his first time, absorbing himself in your curves, the swell of your breasts and your pretty pussy.
“Like what you see?”
Mark smiles, “Always,”
You get a little shy at his compliment but continue to lean forwards to capture his lips in a kiss which he immediately reciprocates, his hand curls around the back of your neck to keep you still against his lips and he moans as your tongue slips inside his mouth to touch his own.
He’s still touching himself between your bodies, lifts jerking upwards into his fist and gasping in your mouth when the tip grazes over your skin, the sensitivity sending goosebumps down his spine.
You pull away from his lips much to his dismay and he tries to pull you back in but stops when he sees you manoeuvring your way down his body, leaving a trail of kisses behind which makes him moan again, mouth falling slack as he feels your tongue lick a clean stripe down his navel.
You brush your fingers over his inner thighs, smiling at how his cock twitches against his stomach, stroking further and further up his skin before your fingers grip his cock, hearing the slight hiss he makes through his teeth and you smile, leaning in closer to wrap your lips around his tip.
“Wait!” Mark suddenly yells out and you stop in surprise, bringing your gaze up from his cock to his face and he reaches his hand forward to cradle your check, his thumb caressing your skin. He looks like he’s in pain, but he explains, “I’ll cum too quickly if you suck my cock, like, seriously, I will cum the second I feel your tongue on me again.”
That makes you even more eager to shove his cock down your throat and you tighten your fingers around the base, causing him to throw his head back with a gasp, “I don’t mind.”
“But I do,” Mark weakly pushes your hand away and his cock slaps back against his stomach, his hips jerking upwards at the sudden contact. “Fuck—baby I’ve been waiting for this for so long. I want to cum fucking you—please, I—” He winces as his hand comes down to cup his balls, almost as if he’s trying to stop himself from cumming right there and there from his words. “I want to fuck you.”
You would awe at the sight if it wasn’t for the way he’s looking at you right now, so desperate and needy to be inside of you and you’re more than welcome to give him exactly what he wants, briefly nodding your head for confirmation and his shoulders drop with a relieved sigh.
Mark gently pushes you down on the bed to crawl above you, kneeling between your parted thighs and he almost drools at the sight of your pussy, glistening and ready for him to fuck. He’s quick to lean over to open the drawers of your nightstand, digging his hand inside to search around for the box of condoms he knows you have for him.
He pulls out the box and he leans back on his ankles as he dips his hand inside, and you wait patiently for him to retrieve it and roll it onto his cock, but the way his body freezes and face drops you know something is wrong and you grow concerned, leaning up on your elbows.
“Mark?”
“No, no, no,” Mark mumbles repeatedly under his breath as he turns the box upside down and shakes aggressively, praying that a condom will magically appear out of thin air and lay across the palm of his hand but it remains empty. “Jesus Christ, you’ve got to be kidding me.”
You gape at him in shock, “There’s no condoms left?”
“There’s no condoms left,” He repeats, throwing the empty box down on the bed and he runs his hand over his face in annoyance, tears of frustration prickling at his eyes. You watch as he brows pull together, how his jaw clenches and nostrils flare in anger. It was a sight you’re definitely not used to seeing, but it’s something that has your thighs clenching for some friction below. 
“Hey, it’s okay,” You try to reassure him as his cheeks get a little red and you reach up to stroke his shoulders. “We must’ve used the last one before you left to go to Japan without knowing.”
“I should’ve been prepared, you know, I should’ve bought a pack before coming here—I shouldn’t have relied on you to have the condoms but, fuck, I was just so exciting to see my girl that I didn’t even think about—”
“Baby, it’s okay.” You try to cut off his rambling by reassuring him again but it's no use.
“—And now we have nothing and I’m just—” His hands wave over his hard cock comically and you hold back a snort, watching how his fingers run through his hair with a sigh. “Okay, I should just, like, make you cum on my tongue and then I’m going to go jerk off in the—”
“No!” You shout this time, startling Mark who stares at you with wide eyes and you immediately apologise, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, baby. But you don’t need to do that, it’s okay.”
“Then what are we going to do?” He questions with a whiny tone that has your head reeling and pussy begging to be fucked. The way he’s staring at you so desperately and in pain is enough for you to come up with an idea.
“How about we just do it raw this time?”
Mark blinks, “Raw? Like, without a condom?”
“Yes.”
“Baby…” Mark sighs softly as he rubs at your thighs, “You know we can’t do that. We can’t risk anything, you know, and even though I’m certain I’m going to spend the rest of my life with my girl and start a family… we really can’t risk anything. It’s too soon and we’re both not ready for that either.”
You frown, “I know that. But nothing will happen, I promise. I’m on the pill.”
“What?”
“I’ve been on the pill for a few months,” You tell him nonchalantly and he looks at you as if you kept such a big secret away from him. “Remember that night when the condom broke and we panicked?” Mark nods his head quickly, “I went on the pill the day after that. I didn’t want us to have another scare or anything.”
“You’ve been on the pill for five months?” Mark asks you and you hum, confirming its true and he gapes in shock, dropping his gaze down to your pussy in disbelief. “So we could’ve done this five months ago?”
You struggle to hold back a laugh this time, the sound stifled by your lips. “Yes.”
“So, I can just…” Mark trails off as he shuffles forward, the tip of his cock brushing over your folds and you gasp as he flicks over your clit, thighs clamping around his hips. “I can just slide right in, feel you, fill you up.” He’s mumbling now, some words incoherent while others are clear as day, his lewdness making your face hot as his cock nudges your opening, almost teasing you by not fucking you immediately and you bite back the urge to tell him to hurry it up.
back the urge to tell him to hurry it up.
You suck in a deep breath as Mark finally pushes into you and his eyes grow wide, mouth slack as he feels the warmth of your walls fit snugly around his cock. He’s frozen above you, cock pulsing as he feels you bare for the first time and his eyes flick to yours, and his gaze suddenly darkens, his fingers pressing against the meat of your waist. 
You go to call out his name, to ask him if he’s alright but a surprised yelp flees past your lips as his hips snap forwards, burying himself deep inside of your pussy and your arms fling around his shoulders, gripping him tightly as he pants above you.
“Feel so fucking good, baby,” Mark grunts under his breath, fucking himself into you deeper and you wail, thighs clamping around his waist. “Feels so tight. All for me, yeah? Just for me. So fucking good. My pretty girl and her perfect pussy.”
“Mark.” You try to speak, stuttering over your words with each thrust, the bed creaking beneath your bodies, headboard hitting against the wall but you could care less about the noise, too surprised to see the sudden change in your boyfriend. 
His tone and his words are enough to have you gaping at him, broken moans ripping through your throat at how nasty he sounds, how he uncontrollably mutters how good your cunt feels wrapped around his cock and how wet you are for him. 
You’re not used to this. You’re used to the sweet talk, the light feathery kisses he leaves on your skin, words of sweet praises and gentle whispers of ‘i love yous’. 
You’re not complaining though. Never. 
Seeing Mark switch up just from fucking you raw for the first time has your mind spinning and electricity buzzing down your spine, fingernails digging further into his shoulder blades and clamping around him tightly, cursing him to curse.
“Fuck, that’s it. That’s it, baby. Tight little cunt squeezing me in so good,” Mark whispers in your ear, almost sounding like he’s whining. “My girl. My fucking girl.”
“Please,” You beg, even though you have no idea what you’re begging for. “Please, please, please.”
“Gonna fill you up, fuck you full of my cum,” Mark slurs his words, his pace quickening as his cock drills into you, his hands gripping your waist tighter when he hears you moan prettily for him. “You want that? Hm? Want me to fill you up? Fuck this cunt full?”
“Yes,” You pant heavily, tightening your legs around his hips, desperate for him to cum, to feel him deep inside. “Please.”
“Sounds so pretty when my baby begs for me,” Mark hums as he leans in to kiss your lips but he pulls away much too quickly for your liking, not allowing you to enjoy it. But you gasp when you feel his hand slide between your bodies, thumb rubbing your clit. “Gonna cum for me like I’m gonna cum for you, yeah? Want to see my girl cum for me before I fuck her pussy full.”
You’re already letting yourself go just from his words alone, your orgasm crashing over your like an aggressive wave and you body seizes up, almost sobbing from sensitivity as he fucks you through it, thumbing at your clit without any signs of stopping.
Your pussy contracts around his cock, sucking him in deeper, hugging around him tightly which causing his hips to stutter their movements, a grunt slipping past his lips before he leans back, hands sliding down your waist to grip your thighs, keeping you locked against him as he watches you squeeze around his cock, desperate to be filled.
“Good girl. Keep doing that for me. Feels so good, baby.” Mark’s moaning under his breath, airy moans turning into whines as he feels your walls tighten around him, too overwhelmed by the feeling that he stills, a throating groan leaving his lips as he cums, filling you up just as planned.
Mark’s breathing heavily, mesmerised with the way he’s emptying himself inside you, watching his cock twitch with his spurt of cum that paints your walls. He doesn’t pull away until he’s certain there’s nothing left to give, wincing out of sensitivity as he slowly leans back to pull out of you, his spent cock bobbing against his thigh.
“What was that?” You breathe out, leaning up on your elbows as you look at him. “Where did that come from?”
“I don’t know,” Mark mumbles, cheeks blossoming a bright red as he refuses to meet your gaze, that shy and sweet persona falling back into place. But he can’t seem to tear his eyes away from your pussy, mouth open wide as his fingers delicately stroke over your puffy folds. “Was… was I too much?”
“No,” You quickly shake your head, reassuring him. “I liked it.”
“Yeah?” Mark hums, finally meeting your gaze and you smile at him, nodding your head this time and he sheepishly grins back, staring down at his fingers that circle around your entrance that leaks with his cum and he makes the sudden decision to push it back in, causing you to gasp and whine softly. “Sorry… I don’t want anything to go to waste.”
You laugh lightly at his words, “Go to waste?”
“Mhm,” Mark nods, retracting his fingers and staring at the cum that covers his digits, the dark expression taking over once again as he looks right at you, “I’m never wearing a condom again, you know that right, baby?”
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©𝗠𝗥𝗞𝗜𝗦
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luveline · 2 months
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hi my lovely!! maybe bombshell!reader and spencer struggling to adjust to daily life after his prison stint? maybe he feels suffocated and an argument ensues?? i feel like it would be difficult to just get back to normal after everything that happened !! love you <33
love you!!! fem!reader
“You’ve always had terrible posture.” 
“What?” Spencer asks. 
You wrap your arms around him from behind. You’re more gentle than anyone he’s ever met, though you're teasing, whispering in his ear, “You sit forward so far you must get knots.” 
He’s immediately tense. You take little notice, your nose in his hair, your hand riding up toward his neck, which you spoil with soft touching. He tries to relax. It's all he wanted only a week ago, to have you holding him, to smell your perfume, the stick of your hand lotion or the traces of mint in your lip oil as you kiss the skin just behind his ear. But now it feels like too much. You’re never too much, not for him, and yet. 
“Ready?” you ask, bracing your hands against his chest. 
You pull him back until he hears a solid click emanating from the mid of his spine, and you laugh quite nicely in his ear. You’re his showful girl, but you’ve taken care since he came back to be careful. This is the cheekiest you’ve acted. His ears are ringing as your fingertips draw a path down his chest. This is a proper hug. His chest compresses tightly, he can’t draw breath. 
“Love you,” you say, kissing his cheek. You show no signs of detaching. “You smell really good. Maybe we can get some Indian takeout tonight and just stay all comfy and stuff…” 
He can’t answer. He wishes you’d stop touching him. It’s an unfair wish. 
“Does that sound okay?” you ask. 
He nods, hoping you’ll get off of him once you know the answer. When you stay, he shifts his shoulder and forces out a tight, “Yeah, that’s good.” 
“I love you.” 
He loves you so much it hurts to say. “I love you too.” 
“You’re not feeling okay?” you ask quietly. 
“I’m fine.” 
You climb off of him quickly. He knows he’s been too mean, worse when you say, “Okay,” in a tone like you’ve choked on something. “Uh, well, I’ll go find a menu.” 
You’re not one for filler words —it’s how he knows he’s thrown you for a loop. 
Spencer isn’t trying to be spiteful. He’s constantly overstimulated, he has been for three or months now, weeks and weeks of being in fight mode and now he’s home he doesn’t feel home, you’re here but he’s struggling to just accept that things are fine again. They don’t feel fine. 
He knows he’s lucky. He feels sick, is all. 
After a phone call he hears from the couch where you place an order for all his favourite mains and sides, you return to the living room of his apartment (of which you practically live in) and sit on the far side of the couch. Not too far to miss, but enough to betray how he’s made you feel. 
“Don’t sit so far away,” he says. 
“You’re being snippy, Spencer. Which is fine. But I don’t want to fight.” 
He holds out his hand. “Don’t sit so far away,” he repeats, preface to an apology. 
You shuffle across the couch on your knees. Spencer doesn’t want a hug, but he takes your hand and holds it to his chest where his heartbeat goes a tick too fast. Your frown softens as the bump of his pulse registers. 
“Sorry,” he says. “I don’t know what it is.” 
“That’s okay.” You’re lying at first, then not, “It’s okay, honey. I know you’re– I know this is still bad. I know I’m not being the most help I could be for you right now.” 
“It’s not like that,” he insists. 
“Well. Don’t be sorry. But please don’t say you love me if you don’t want to say it, Spence.” 
He could bite off his own tongue. “I feel like I can’t speak. I think I need to talk to Dr. Kelly tomorrow. I’m so anxious I feel like I can’t breathe.” 
He figures he owes you some honesty, but he’s wishing he kept it to himself when he sees the stricken look that lights your eyes. Your mouth turns to a line. 
Spencer grabs for your other hand. “I’m fine,” he says again. 
“Oh, sure.” You massage his fingers with your thumb on automatic. “You seem totally fine.” You lean in. “I don’t expect you to be fine, you know that? If you’re moody, that’s okay. You can be mad at me if you want, I think you deserve it. But I’m serious, don’t say you love me if you don’t mean it.” 
“I always mean it,” he says honestly. 
For a moment, you bite your lip, your eyes on his, and he worries he’s not as forgiven as he wants to be. 
“I’ll call Dr. Kelly,” you say finally, pulling your joined hands into your lap. “I want you to feel better, babe. That’s all I want.” 
He nods, lifting his chin for a kiss you give immediately. The suffocating feeling abates.
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flowersandbigteeth · 5 months
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Orc boyfriend with what he thinks is a tiny, smol mate who's so smol, so delicate, so sweet... They're actually pretty firmly built for a human, while a bit short, along with being stubborn and sassy and ready to bite heads off for their adorable XL size boyfriend.
I've got so many orc stories going right now, but you know I'm not mad about it ^_^ I love Orcs <3 There are so many different ways to write them. I have another couple of Orc asks I'm working on, as well 🥵
Orc (Cedar) x thick f reader
Word Count: 5K
Tw: sfw orc fluff, some brief descriptions of battle, brief mention of sa, size difference
More monster fluff here
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“Put the stick down, sugar. We’re not going to hurt you.” 
You scoffed at the soldiers circling you, their eyes dark with lust. 
“We just want to have some fun,” another said, his eyes drifting over your shapely hips. “Don’t you owe us a debt of gratitude for rescuing you?”  
You squeezed the iron fire poker that you had gripped in your hand. 
“Rescuing me? You didn’t get your rocks off burning down the damn village?” 
“It was a strategic maneuver,” the leader of the armored men said with an oily smile. “We are here to liberate you.” 
“By assaulting me?” you snapped. 
There was not a doubt in your mind that the second you lowered your weapon, they were going to drag you into some dark corner and act out all of the sick thoughts they had echoed on their faces. 
Your King’s soldiers weren’t good guys. When they heard there was an Orc camp nearby, they couldn’t be bothered to attack it directly. Instead, they burned down your village. They said it was to prevent them from resupplying. 
It was true you did business with the Orcs, who were technically your enemy, but they never acted like enemies. While big and quite scary-looking, they paid in gold and were always polite to the women running the shops. You never felt the least bit unsafe alone with one, and occasionally, they’d help you out with things that needed done– fixing roofs and cartwheels. The men of the town had all been conscripted for the war, so it mostly the ladies keeping the village afloat. The soldiers had made a whole lot of children and the elderly homeless. 
“Come on, sweetie, this game is getting tiresome.” 
One of the soldiers dared to approach you, and you didn’t hesitate a second, swinging your poker and smacking him so hard in the head that his helmet crunched. He collapsed on the broken boards that had once been the floor of your little noodle shop. 
“Now that’s a crime!” the leader barked.
He waved to his accomplices. 
“Get in there and restrain her!” Their eyes fell on the collapsed soldier, and they looked between one another, trying to sort out who was next to get a whomping. 
You flexed your wrist, preparing to swing at whoever came at you next, when you heard the heavy steps of an Orc approaching. The soldiers were too inexperienced to know what that sound meant. You’d heard them approach every day at dinner time for several months. It wasn’t until he was shouldering his way through what was left of your door that they took notice. 
“The enemy approaches! Your swords!” 
The Orc you knew as Ash, wrinkled his brow and let out a lilting call to gather his brethren. The ground rumbled as more heavy feet ran towards you. 
Wood splintered, and what remained of the ceiling creaked as they tore the walls away, making more room for a fight. 
Faced with five nine-foot Orc barbarians armed with axes almost as big as their bodies, the soldiers tried to run for it. You screamed as they threatened to trample you, trying to force their way through the back wall, but they never reached you. 
The Orcs didn’t need to draw their weapons, grabbing every soldier and smacking them against the ground until they stopped moving—a gruesome way to die, but practical. 
When the danger was crumpled into a wet gnarl of bones and metal, their eyes turned to you. Ash said something to his friends in their own language before he stomped across the room and plucked you up like a kitten, cradling you in his arm. 
“Hey, What do you think you’re doing?!” 
“Quiet, little one. You’ll give us away.” 
You puckered your lips at him, annoyed, as if the stomping of five tons of muscle was quiet. When you tried to wave your poker at him, he plucked it out of your hand but didn’t drop it, tucking it instead in his belt. He said something else to his friends before turning to split away from them. 
You had no reason to panic. The Orcs had never harmed you, but being taken away from the group put frightening thoughts in your head, and you instinctively started screaming. 
The Orc sighed, sounding tired, when four more soldiers came skidding around a corner, swords in hand. You looked up at him apologetically, smacking your hand over your mouth to stay the scream that didn’t want to stop. 
He set you on the roof of what was left of a building and pat you on the head, a gesture that you read as “stay” before pulling out his axe. You weren’t going anywhere, even if you wanted to. The drop was fifteen feet down, and the stairs were just charcoal at the base of the building. 
“Attack!” the leader of the soldiers shouted, but their moves in their heavy metal armor were slow. Ash swung his arm in a sweeping stroke that sliced four of them in half where they stood. The other one, eyes wide with horror, turned tail and ran. 
Replacing his axe, he picked you up again and headed into the woods. This time, you had enough sense to keep quiet. 
You’d never been to the Orc camp before, but you heard it before you saw it. The brassy sound of a grinder and hammers on metal rang through the trees, blended with the shouts of the Orcs in their language.  There were lots of huge tents and fires spotted here and there. The camp was buzzing with activity. Orcs ran around shouting at one another, some gathering weapons, some sending groups in the direction you came. You recognized many of them as some of your customers. They often came in groups and hauled away vats of the noodle stew you sold. 
A few Orcs waved at Ash but didn’t pay you much mind as he carried you to the nicest-looking tent. It had a banner outside of it with a gold bear embroidered into the fabric. Ash set you on the ground at the door and handed you your poker before patting you on the back, indicating you should go in. 
“What’s in there?” you asked. 
He said something in Orcish that you didn’t understand and walked away. There were too many other giants around to attempt an escape, so you pulled aside the fur covering the door and peeked inside. 
“Hello?” 
Your question was returned with a deep voice, smooth as a glassy pond. 
“Enter, little one.” 
Taking a few steps inside, you were faced with what you could only describe as the most handsome Orc you’d ever seen. His skin was a deep olive, and his hair fell over his shoulder in a long, dark sheet with small braids here and there. His tusks were large, but they seemed only to highlight how well his lips were formed. His features were harsh and defined but not unattractive, with a straight nose and deep-set gold eyes. The only thing you could point out as a flaw was a dark scar from his forehead to the right corner of his jaw. 
You assumed the Orcs were blunt tools, sprinting into battle with no real plan, but this one was sitting at a high table examining maps with a book in his hand. 
“I’m…I’m not sure why I’m here,” you said, brandishing your poker, though you didn’t feel like you were in any particular danger. 
“I asked Ash to fetch you,” he said without looking up. “You’re the noodle shop woman.” 
“My name is (Y/N), not “noodle shop woman,” and I don’t have a shop anymore. The soldiers burned it.” 
He put his book down and turned his gold eyes to you. 
“That’s why you’re here.” 
“I don’t understand.” 
His eyes drifted over you before they settled on the poker you were still holding up. 
“You were feeding most of the camp. If there’s no shop to visit, you can make noodles here.” 
You blinked up at him. 
“Oh…Am I your prisoner?” 
He chuckled. 
“If you’d like to go back to your people, I won’t stop you, but judging how they burned down your village without hesitation, I think you’re safer with us.” 
You had to admit that made some sense, but you still weren’t buying it. 
“I can’t stay here with you!” 
He tipped his head, the corner of his lip twitching up slightly. 
“Why is that, little one?” 
You narrowed your eyes at him. 
“First of all, I’m NOT little, and second, an Orc camp is no place for a lady.” 
A shudder that had nothing to do with fear shot down your spine as his eyes moved over your body. He crossed the room, scooping you up, and setting you on his table. Your feet dangled far from the ground. 
“What- What are you doing?” you snapped, waving your weapon at him. 
“My neck was hurting from looking down at you. You’re very short.”
The sparkle in his eyes told you he was teasing you, which drew heat to your cheeks. 
“Maybe compared to you. You’re unnecessarily large. What are you doing with all of that muscle? Are you going to arm wrestle your books?” you pouted, eyes drifting to the massive bicep peeking out of the fur vest he wore. 
He laughed out loud, gracing you with a wide smile. 
“You’ll fit right in here.” 
You raised your nose at him, trying to look unconvinced. 
“Where will I even sleep? All of your tents are big and drafty.” 
“Since you’ve declared your intention to court me, I wouldn’t mind if you slept here.” 
“Declared my intention to— Where did you get that idea?” 
He flicked a fingertip at your poker. 
“In the old days, Orc females came to their males' tent and threatened them into submission with their favorite weapon.” 
Your cheeks burned like hot irons, and you almost dropped it. 
“Well…I’m not trying to court you. It’s for protection.” 
He snorted at you but nodded his head. 
“If you say so, little one, but it will be much warmer in my tent if it’s drafts you’re worried about.” 
“I don’t even know your name. Ash called you something in your language. I didn’t understand…” 
He examined one of the feet you had dangling over the edge of his table. Compared to his big hand, it was tiny. 
“Cautalin, it means something close to general in your language, but you can call me Cedar. That’s what my mother named me.” 
Your eyes traveled over his barrel chest and thick arms. 
“Seems about right,” you said, finally setting your poker down. 
He picked it up, looked it over, and tested the weight in his hand. 
“Not a bad choice,” he said. “Light but effective.” 
You glanced up at him through your eyelashes, feeling cheeky. 
“Do you feel like submitting?” 
You watched a flicker of heat ignite in his eyes, and he slowly set it down. 
“Come on, let's get you to bed, killer.” 
He picked you up again, walking you over to a large pallet covered in furs. 
“This is your bed.” 
He gave you another smile. 
“We’re in the middle of a battle; I won't be sleeping tonight. It's all yours.” 
Though you weren't quite sure about sleeping in his bed, weariness overtook you at the sight of the comfortable, cozy furs, and you crawled in, wrapping yourself up to your chin in blankets. 
He put your poker next to you and blew out the candle, slipping out the front flap as you dozed. 
— 
You woke to yelling, but not the sound of battle. Crawling out of your furs, you picked up your poker and peeled out of the flap Cedar used as a door. Another Orc you didn't recognize was the one yelling, and Cedar had his arms crossed, looking bored. 
Your eyes drifted to about twenty women, elderly, and children, cowering in the chilly morning air, their faces streaked with soot from the fire.
“They’re our enemies!” the strange Orc barked. 
“Really, Asvoth? Are you really afraid of a handful of children and their mothers?” 
“This is a war camp, not a nursery.” 
“It's my camp, not yours. They stay.” 
“I outrank you. I can take your command.” 
Cedar snorted. 
“Yet the King hasn't trusted you with a unit of your own. You're nothing more than an errand boy with a fancy title. Any of these children could take your job.” 
Asvoth’s face turned a deep forest green from both embarrassment and indignation. He yanked the sword he wore on his back to his hand. Without thinking, you hopped in front of Cedar, waving your poker at the intruder. You had no idea why, a fact you only considered after you’d already put yourself in harm's way. Still, you'd made your move so the only thing to do was follow through. 
“You heard Cedar! We’re not leaving! Get on if you know what's good for you!” 
Asvoth sprung forward, dropping his sword toward your head. Your eyes squeezed shut, preparing for pain, but there was only the clang of metal. Opening one eye, you glanced up to see Cedar’s axe blocking the other Orc’s blow. 
There was a moment when you thought Asvoth might overtake him, but Cedar’s muscles weren't all for show. He shoved the other Orc back, and he toppled over, landing on his butt in the dirt. His sword landed in front of the children with a CLANG. 
“Woah!”  the little ones cheered, circling around it like it was a strange animal. 
A few of them tried to pick it up, but it was far too heavy, making their eyes pop even wider.
Cedar nodded at him, and a pair of Orcs from the camp dragged Asvoth up by the collar of his tunic, pushing him towards the forest.  
“I'm reporting this!” He shouted over his shoulder as he stumbled towards the woods. 
Cedar waved a hand at one of his Orcs, beckoning him closer. 
“You and Orin follow him and make sure the King gets our side of the story, not his.”  
When the situation seemed settled, Cedar looked down at you and patted your head. 
“Thank you for your protection, little suitor,” he said with a smirk. 
Your cheeks blew up in flames, but you puffed your chest and looked at the children watching Ash pick up the abandoned sword. They hopped around him like little bunnies, begging him to teach them to use it. 
“I have no idea what you mean! I’m here to make noodles! Point me in the direction of my kitchen! These little mouths are probably hungry.” 
He chuckled, but guided you with a large hand on your back to a large tent filled with whatever food supplies they had rescued from the village. You wrinkled your nose at the primitive workspace, but there were enough flour and eggs to work with. You were surprised to find someone had stuck in a lower table, perfect for your height. After washing your hands in a water basin, you got to cooking. 
“What are you still doing here?” you asked Cedar, who had plopped down in a chair and was reading a book. 
He smiled. 
“Reading.” 
You blinked at him, putting your floury fists on your hips. “Are you surveilling me? I’m not going to poison you all! I have to eat this too, you know.” 
He tipped his head to the side, his gold eyes sparkling in the makeshift hearth. 
“The sound of cooking is soothing. I liked to study in the kitchen while my mother cooked when I was a boy.” 
You looked him up and down. 
“I can’t imagine you as a child.” 
You thought for a second, tapping your chin. 
“You know, I don’t think I’ve ever seen an Orc child, actually.” 
He looked back down at his book, shifting in his seat to get comfortable. 
“You will,” he said as he flipped a page. 
Your brow wrinkled at that nebulous statement, but you knew everyone was hungry after the long night, so you got back to work. 
By midmorning, you had a stewpot big enough to feed an army filled with noodles, vegetables, and what little bit of venison the Orcs had been able to hunt between the battle. 
“All done,” you said, clapping your hands and creating a puff of flour in the air. 
Cedar got up and shouted something to his men, and two Orcs appeared to carry the big vat into the central circle so it could be served. You felt a sense of satisfaction when all the bowls were passed out and the children, tired humans, and bloodied Orcs were eating. The mothers spoke quietly between one another, while the children could hardly sit still, their big eyes following the Orcs every movement. 
“Here.” 
You looked up to find Cedar holding a bowl out to you. A grumbling stomach had you accepting it, and he patted the seat next to him for you to sit down. The two of you ate quietly for a moment before you asked him a question. 
“What are you going to do with all of us?” 
“Hmm?” he asked. 
“Well, I mean when the battle is over. We have nowhere to go. Our town is destroyed.” 
He looked at the children who, after scarfing down their bowls, were engaged in some game with Ash. 
“I was hoping you would all return to our capitol city with us. That’s where we live when we’re not fighting.”
Your eyebrows jumped. 
“To the Orc city? We’re humans. Don’t your people hate us?” 
He shrugged. 
“There are some weak minds who reveal their own fragility with their hate, but the rest of us like your kind. This whole war started because we wished to create allies amongst the humans.” 
“What? The soldiers said you attacked!” 
He chuckled. 
“Your king has a very effective propaganda engine. That’s probably the only thing about him that is effective. We sent a delegation party to him to discuss our interest in mingling with you humans. You all are prolific; despite your size, you’re a sturdy bunch. We thought marriages would bolster our numbers and strengthen your stock. Your King attacked, and we were forced to defend ourselves. The force that attacked us was decimated, and he declared war.” 
“You mean…you wish to mate with us?” 
His eyes slid down to you, and he gave you a sharp nod. 
“Is that so surprising?” 
You thought about it for a moment. 
“I don’t know…Maybe a little. You’re so strong. You’re not afraid we’ll diminish you?” 
His thick hand cupped your chin and rubbed some flour away with his thumb. Your heart raced at his touch. 
“Size is not what makes us strong. Our strength lies in our unbreakable bonds. Your King will be defeated, not because his forces are less than ours, but because he orders his men to betray his own people.” 
He nodded towards the children, who were playing chicken fight on Ash and another Orc’s shoulders. 
“They will remember it was men who burned down their village, stole their fathers from them, assaulted their mothers and Orcs who took them in, fed them, and helped them smile again. 
“I suppose you’re right,” you agreed. 
His smile widened. 
“I will remember you took up arms to protect me against an enemy twice your size. You belong among the us.” 
Suddenly the wool dress you wore was much too hot. 
“I should go wash these before the next meal,” you squeaked, grabbing his empty bowl and scurrying away.
Once safe in the kitchen tent, you pressed your hand against your chest, trying to still your heart. Why did Cedar make you feel so fluttery? You’d never felt this way around anyone before. You usually kept to yourself and steered clear of romance. It had to be the battle, you decided. You were still hyped up from the night before. In a day or so, you were sure it would pass. 
Dunking empty bowls in ice-cold river water helped cool your thoughts as you tried to focus on what to make for dinner. The Orcs stocks were pretty hefty, but they and the children ate a lot. You’d noticed many of the parents tipping some of their bowls into their little one’s, making sure they were fed properly in case the next meal didn’t come. 
It saddened you it had to be this way. What horrible person decides to burn down their own citizens' village? Who was the King even protecting you from? Not the Orcs, that’s for sure. 
A loud rabble outside dragged your attention away from the dishes, and you picked up your poker before peeking your head outside. 
A few Orc scouts were speaking in rapid Orcish to Cedar. When they paused, his eyes immediately looked around for the children and frowned before he spoke to you all. 
“The human King has sent reinforcements. They will close on our camp by nightfall.” 
The mothers all gathered their children to their skirts, looking weary. 
“Women and children to the kitchen tent! We will keep you safe, but you must stay hidden!” 
You made way as a small stampede of humans rushed past you, many pushing their children to hide under the table. 
“What’s happening?” You asked Cedar as people and Orcs rushed around. 
He scrubbed his hand over his jaw, looking disturbed. 
“Someone ran back to your King with a story that we’d kidnapped you, not taken you in from starving in a burnt-down village. We will win this fight, but then we will have to make the journey back to the capitol. They will keep attacking if they think you’re within their grasp. Do you think you can explain this to your people? We don’t intend to take anyone by force, but I wouldn’t trust the King’s soldiers.”
“Yes, of course. Whatever you need.”
You hurried back to the kitchen, where the humans were muttering to one another. 
“Should we flee to the forest?” Isla, the former town candlemaker, asked. “Can we depend on the Orcs to protect us?” 
Another woman scoffed. 
“We can’t trust anyone. These Orcs are kind now, but they’ll sell us out at the drop of a hat.” 
Linda, a quiet woman who worked as a weaver, whimpered. 
“But we’ll starve in the forest alone. Word is the King’s men have raized every town for fifty miles!” 
You inserted yourself into the conversation, holding up your hands. 
“No one needs to escape to the woods. The Orcs are going to take us back to their capitol to keep us safe.” 
Linda squeaked in horror. 
“The Orc capitol?! Where they can enslave us?!” 
“They have no plan to enslave you. Don’t you want your children to be safe? We will be safe behind their walls!” 
“Or…when the King takes the city we’ll all be hung as traitors!” 
“Shawna, don’t put that in her head. Linda, we’ll be fine. I trust Cedar.” 
You paused on that thought, realizing not only was it true, it didn’t make any sense. You’d only just met him. Your conversation was interrupted by the shouting of men outside. 
“We’ll talk about this later,” you hissed, “Here, take this.” 
You armed the humans with whatever haphazard weapons you could find, mostly butcher knives and skillets. 
Outside, you could hear the clang of weapons and the squelching sounds of metal piercing flesh. 
“What's happening?” Linda asked, trying to get around you so she could peek out of the tent flap. 
“Stay back!” You barked. “If they see us, we’re in trouble!” 
You could tell she was losing it, hopping from one foot to another, her hands getting slippery on her knife. 
“No, no, no,” she whimpered. “I don’t want to go with the Orcs. Even a human monster is better than them!” 
Before you could grab her, she skipped through the doorway, running wildly into the fray. The other humans gathered around you, their opinions spilling out like loose marbles. 
“What is she thinking?!” 
“Linda, come back!” 
“Let her go, she’s nuts.” 
You clenched your jaw, squeezing your iron poker. 
“She’s scared. I’ll go get her…you all stay put!” 
Before anyone could stop you, you darted after her, trying to catch sight of her red skirt through the mess of armour-clad humans and massive Orcs. The King had sent a much larger force than the one that had burned down your village. The battle around you was brutal. You almost slipped on a puddle of blood, your eyes frantically searching for Linda. 
You found her pointing her knife with shaking hands at a human soldier. 
“What are you doing? I’m a human, too!” 
“The King ordered you all dead!” he snarled, raising his sword at her. “No witnesses! Come on, do your duty to the kingdom, and die quietly!” 
Panicking, you launched yourself at him, whacking him with your poker as you barreled into him. The two of you went down, metal clashing as you fell and dropped your weapons. Both of you scrabbled for purchase in the blood-soaked earth. You could hear Linda screeching beside you as you tried to overpower the soldier. His armor, now slick with mud, made it impossible to get a hold of him, and he triumphantly dragged himself to his sword, clumsily grabbing it by the blade and flinging it in your direction. You saw the metal flash in the firelight before pain exploded between your eyes, and your vision went black. 
“Please tell me she’s not dead,” you heard Linda’s voice from far away. 
Isla scoffed. 
“You’d better hope she’s not, Linda. This is all your fault!” 
“I'm sorry!” she simpered, “I made a mistake! I thought the soldiers were here to free us!” 
“Free us from what? A good meal and a safe place to sleep?”
You dragged your eyelids open, vision blurry for a moment before it cleared. 
“What…what happened?” you murmured. 
“She’s awake!” Isla gasped. 
You felt her cool hands against your cheek. 
“Take it slow, here; have some water.” 
She pushed a tin cup into your hands, and you wet your palette with a few sips. Looking around, you were surrounded by the humans, all looking very concerned. 
“Is everyone okay?” you asked. 
Isla smirked, and the other women tittered a bit. 
“Thanks to you, I suppose. That chieftain or warlord or whatever saw you get knocked in the head and went berzerk. He killed most of the soldiers all by himself.” 
Another woman poked her head out of the tent. 
“She’s okay! You guys can untie him!” 
“Untie who? Is the battle over?” 
Isla nodded.
“Yeah, all the soldiers are dead. We’ve all been waiting for you to wake up so we can move the camp before the King sends anymore. Can you believe he ordered them to kill us? I guess so he could claim the Orcs did it and get more support for the war.”
She smirked at you. 
“And as for who's tied up, your Orc friend thought you were dead. The others had to tie him up so he wouldn’t go on a rampage. He was ready to storm the King’s stronghold! You ought to see the ropes they had to use…thick as your waist!” 
You heard the roll of stomping feet, and Cedar burst through the tent flap. His hair was wild, and his tunic was red with blood. He fell to his knees in front of you, holding his hands as if he couldn’t decide if you were safe to touch. 
“Are you okay?” he asked, carefully prodding the bandage you had wrapped around your head. “That monster didn’t do any permanent damage, did he?” 
“She’ll have a scar,” Isla said, “but I think she’s fine.” 
Cedar’s face lightened, pulling you towards him, his big arms wrapping around you. 
“Thank the goddess,” he sighed with a heavy breath. “I thought they’d taken you from me.” 
He cupped your cheeks between his palms when he finally let you go. 
“You are so stupidly brave, little one,” he gasped, eyes wet. “You have more honor than your people deserve.” 
Behind him, Isla waved the women out of the tent, leaving the two of you alone. Not used to so much intimate attention, your cheeks warmed, and you weren’t sure where to look. 
“I just didn’t want Linda to get hurt,” you muttered. 
He gave you an odd smile, scooping you out of the cot you’d woken up in. 
“Once I get you to our home in the capitol, I’m going to have to keep you locked up for your own safety,” he said, patting your head. 
You looked up at him from where you were tucked, leaning on his bicep. 
“Our home?” 
He grinned at you, counting on his fingers. 
“First step to Orc courting: Threaten your desired with your weapon. Done. Step two: Allure them with your cooking skills, cooking or hunting something delicious. Done. And the final step: Display your honor through a grand act of bravery. Done! You’ve effectively and thoroughly seduced me, little one! All that’s left is to take you home!” 
He tipped your chin up with one thick finger and dipped his head to press his lips against yours. Your whole body felt like it was made of butterflies, every nerve flickering with excitement. Despite being covered in blood and mud, his kiss tasted like honey and sage. It felt like a warm cup of tea on a chilly morning. Your eyelashes fluttered shut and you sank into his warmth, despite yourself, happy to be alive and in his arms.
“Oh!” you gasped as he straightened his neck.
Your mouth fell open, unsure what to say. Before you could think of anything, Cedar carried you out of the tent, shouting orders at his men to pack up the camp so you could leave for the capitol.
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peachesofteal · 7 months
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Can we please please please get some more Simon x single mother au? Possibly him helping in the garden/ keeping emmaline out of trouble while Mom works in the garden
Light on - single mom/neighbor fic Simon Riley/female reader 18+ mdni / mild sexual content
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“Ow! fuck!”
Your hand jerks, drawing back to your mouth with a hiss. 
“What is it?” He forces himself still, staring daggers at where the tip of your finger has started to leak blood, a thick drop dripping down the side before you bring it to your mouth, lush lips wrapping around your injury. “Are you alright?” His tone is tightly controlled, even keeled, nonchalant, but on the inside, worry gnaws away at his stomach, chewing through the organ until it’s spilling free and running rampant through his body. 
“There’s a piece of glass in here.” In the garden bed? “Some of the other tenants, hang around up here at night. They usually leave bottles or cans behind.” The worry turns to anger, a simple plan slowly taking shape in his mind, a strategy to find the rooftop partiers, and ensure they never leave glass in your garden again. 
Emmaline cries, nose and brows wrinkled in irritation, and you turn to coo at her, finger still half in your mouth. 
“It’s okay, little pea. Just give me a second.” She continues to fuss, and you sigh, wilting like one of your own little flowers, left too long in the sun without water. You blink, and it’s like you’ve shed your sunlit skin for an exhausted shell. Oh, sweetheart. I know it’s hard, but you don’t have to do it on your own anymore. 
I’m here now. 
“Can I?” He asks softly, warming at how your face lights with relief. 
“Yes, please.” You point to the bottle that’s tucked in the side of the backpack, and he unbuckles her from the bouncer that you lugged up the four flights of stairs earlier, even though he had texted you an hour before and politely suggested you wait for him to be finished his phone call, so he could help you. 
You went up anyway, much to his displeasure. Displeasure, that he had to swallow, permanently. 
You’re not his. Not yet. He can’t be disappointed by resistance or refusal when you don’t even know all the ways he can be there for you yet. He knows you’ll learn. You’re a smart girl. His smart girl. 
Emmaline lays nestled in the crook of his elbow, slightly elevated on her back, and he pops the cap of the bottle easily, rubbing his index finger against her cheek to trigger the reflex that will open her mouth. When it does, he keeps it at the right angle to ensure the formula doesn’t flow too fast into her belly. 
“You’ve done this before.” You murmur, reaching into the backpack for a band aid. You’re studying him, tracing over his face, his hands that are nearly the size of your baby, and he can feel the scrutiny, the curious intensity of your gaze. 
“Had a nephew. I was around a lot, when he was this age.” He had a brother too. And a mother. A sister-in-law. A family. 
Emmaline gurgles around the nipple, and he slips it free, sitting her mostly upright, giving her a gentle pat on the back amid her protestations, little grunts that he’s sure she means as ‘feed me’ and ‘more’. He waits for you to ask him the dreaded questions, the focus on the word had, the inevitable conversation about loss and family and pain, guilt and grief that can make a man feel like he’s been buried alive. 
You don’t.
Instead, you simply say, 
“Emmaline had a dad once, too.” 
It’s nearly 2100 when you knock on his door later, baby monitor in one hand, two amber colored bottles in another. 
“Hey. You busy?” His heart does a double tap inside his chest. Bad timing, the worst. Your sweet mouth is slightly open, hopeful, teeth parted just barely to reveal a flash of tongue, and his jaw clenches against the wild need that catapults through his veins to his cock. What do you taste like? What do you feel like? You motion to the monitor. “Just went down. Figure I have about an hour before I pass out myself and could use some adult time.” Shit. The duffel bag next to the door practically speaks for him, irritatingly reminding him he has a plane to catch in less than two hours. 
“I can’t, I’m about to head out.” Your brow furrows, confusion churning into understanding within a moment, disappointment flickering across your expression before it smooths out. 
“Right. Okay.” 
“I want to.” He hurries the words. “But I travel… for work and I have to be on a flight in a few hours.” You’re already half turning away, slinking off to your apartment, giving him a soft agreement as you go. 
“Sure, yeah.” 
“Wait, sweetheart,” You startle at the pet name, eyes going wide at the inferred affection. “when I get back, let’s… have a drink.” You nod, and he smiles a real smile, barely tugging his lips upward, probably hardly visible to you. The kind of smile he’s been wearing around you these past two weeks, the kind of smile he tries to give Emmaline when she stares at him. 
“Alright, sounds good then.” Your key finds your lock, and he steps out into the hallway, trapping your gaze with his own. 
“You girls be good.” He says, a parting instruction, and a bashful, bewildered smile of your own curves across your mouth. 
“We will.”
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