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p. pascal ིྀ :

‘you really didn’t mean to..’

‘hot girl summer’

j. miller ིྀ :

‘it’s so, sweet’

blurb!

‘patience’

‘perks’

‘the pact.’ pt. 1 , pt. 2 (in progress), ?

‘first time’ , ‘fix your blues..’ pt 2,

‘depraved’, pt. 2

‘comfort’

‘teach me, daddy.’ coming soon…;3

j. price ིྀ :

blurb! , pt. 2!

flare days aren’t fun

s. riley ིྀ :

‘the perfect preemie’

‘unexpected.’

line cook lovin’ masterlist !

j. mactavish ིྀ :

‘cúram sé’

f. mertens ིྀ :

blurb!

r. richards ིྀ :

‘heaven is anywhere you make it..’ , pt. 2 (?)

a. bridgerton ིྀ :

‘unintentional’ (in progress)

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you cried. not only because he spent his hard earned money on you, but because he noticed what kind of blind box you like. when he came to your apartment with a bag from your favorite blind box shop, you immediately felt warm inside. you had been having a bad day, your head hurting and your back aching from work in your vegetable and flower garden.

joel kicked his shoes off next to the door, set them on your pink shoe rack, and walked in. he’s tired from work, but he notices your expression and frowns a bit. your brows creased and your eyes squinted, though a small smile on your lips tells him that you’re doing a bit okay.

he hums as you shift on your pretty pink chaise, stretching like a cat in the presence of your owner. he smirks and kneels next to you, kissing your head in greeting. “hi ma’ darlin’….i got somethin’ for ya…”

you perk up, smiling a bit more at his words. your eyes are soft, innocent. the only thing joel could get lost in at his old age. you hum, shifting and whispering curiously, “what is it…?”

he smiles and sets it on your lap, laying down next to you on the tiny chaise, curling around his girl as you dig into the bag. you smile widely and gasp when you pull out not one, but TWO tokidoki blind boxes. you cry immediately, knowing your old man had to walk around a girly cutesy store to buy them, he hugs you and kisses on you, mumbling everything is gonna be okay.

he was planning a date. a date. at 56 years old, he was planning a nice dinner and movie for his girlfriend. you. and he was happy to do it, though he felt out of his depth when trying to find out where people like to go to nowadays. last time he was on a date, he went to a dive bar and got shitfaced enough to not even remember the girls name he went out with.

he finally landed on a nice steakhouse, knowing you liked a nice steak every so often, so he thought he’d treat his girl with something nice. he bought a new button up and cleaned his nicest pair of jeans for the date. of course, he did wear his beat up cowboy boots, but when does he not?

he told you he’d pick you up at 7 from your dorm, no specifics about for what or where but he did tell you to wear no panties and something cute. so when he saw you in that short black dress with your tits practically falling out and hair curled to perfection, he considered skipping the reservations and fucking you right outside your dorm.

but, he decided to have some control and ended up taking you to the nicest steakhouse in austin, which caused you to kiss him quite heavily. which, he again had to fight to keep his feet moving out of the truck to passenger side.

he pulled out the chair for you at the table, smacking your ass discreetly as you sat, not caring about the jealous waiter’s attention on you. he knew he had you in the palm of his hand, you had too good of dick to leave your old man.

you ate the most delicious, perfectly cooked steak with potatoes. you were so full by the time the check came, but you were still hungry for joel. ravenous.

you fucked in his truck. dress pulled up to your hips and joel’s jeans half off, just enough to get lil’ big fat girthy joel™ out to play. joel had his warm big hands on your waist, groaning loudly as you ride him like an f-150. you were almost dead silent, too scared about being in public and getting in trouble to express the brain numbing pleasure you’re feeling.

after a while, you were impossibly wet but your thighs hurt at this point. but…joel is a gentleman. he can’t have his girl getting tired. so he slides down a bit in the seat, anchoring his feet into the floorboard and pushing his seat back, snapping his hips up into you at an impossible pace.

you cry out finally when you feel his bulbous tip hit your cervix, moaning and leaning your head back in pleasure, sweat and sex sticking to your skin. the windows start to fog up in the cold weather, your climax impossibly close. joel reaches down when he sees the crease between your brows, knowing you’re almost there.

“c’mon baby girl…cum f’ya daddy, c’mon, yes- fuck, yes- ohhhh fuck-!” that’s what it took. you tumbled over the edge, squeezing joel’s cock really tight, causing him to groan and snap his hips harder for a few more thrusts before he moans and empties himself into you, your whimpers falling into the crook of his neck as you come down from your high. he softly strokes your lower back as he catches his breath.

it’s safe to say it was a good date.

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other than saying yes. he had no idea his boyfriend johnny was even planning to propose, and he is never subtle. but here he is, knelt on one knee with an absolutely beautiful silver ring in a velvet box, asking him to be his husband. kyle smiles widely as he nods, yelling ‘yes-!!’ with so much enthusiasm he woke bby maeve, who started wailing from how it became rowdy with cheers.

kyle tears up when johnny beams up at him, unable to speak anymore when he sees that soap’s eyes are also filled with tears. he stands up with a discreet sniffle to put the ring on the love of his life’s finger.

he said yes. soap couldn’t believe it (but why would he say no???). his hands were shaking as he put the ring onto ky’s finger, tears slipping down his cheeks when he kisses his love. you and simon cheered alongside john and his bird. johnny hugged his fiancé close as they shared a loving moment.

you couldn’t believe it, you were so happy for them. johnny and kyle have always been so supportive of you and simon. even before you were dating, they were always trying to make you talk to each other and hang out outside of work. and now they’re tying the knot…of course you’re crying.

the hormones are still high, the whole baby birthing doing horrible things to your ability to keep calm. you were sobbing when the couple pulled apart and kissed again, your baby crying along with you on your chest.

the boys smile at each other and kyle holds up his left hand, eyes glued to johnny as he soaks in this moment. john’s wife takes a few photos, wanting them to have this moment without worrying about the moment being captured.

it’s safe to say it was the best barbecue you all have ever had.

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line cook lovin’ taglist !

it quickly became a low grade fever and a stuffy nose, an upset tummy, and a headache you have no idea how to fix. you were trying to be level headed about it. she’s 4 months old, only having been in the outside world in her pram or strapped to one of her parent’s chests. not much socialization. lots of area for germs to strike.

but when you and simon find out it’s because john came over to babysit with the guys after his youngest was sick with a cold…you both became a beast no one wanted to mess with.

simon cursing him out over the phone as you try to nurse a wailing baby, not caring about his profuse apologies. you personally inviting him over while simon bathes the baby (trying to break her fever) to lecture him about proper hygiene and parenting as if he isn’t twice your age and a father of his own. john just nods along and tries not to laugh.

you took bby maeve to the physician the next day. she was diagnosed with an acute cold. nothing serious. nothing major or life threatening. just a cold. but, simon looked like he could cry. his baby girl is sick. all because he wanted his wife’s snatch….(not rly his fault but ok)

your doctor prescribed a small dosage of baby acetaminophen every 12 hours. and simon followed that like it was scripture.

every morning at six, he was with the baby, rocking her and giving her the tiny dose of medicine before her bottle feeding, and every evening, while you were cooking or taking a bath, he was giving his baby girl the meds she needed to feel okay.

she ended up getting over it in 4 days, but it instilled so much fear in you and simon that you now make people take off their shoes and any extra clothing (jackets, hats, etc), wash their hands up to their wrists, and even sanitize with sterile sanitizer before even approaching the baby. at least, til she starts to crawl and all hell breaks loose…

click here for part 7!

one night he was having fun at the pub and then the next he had a baby. the next day, after about 9 hours of just staring at his sleeping daughter with shaking hands, simon decides to go out and get the supplies he needs for his baby.

he walks into the tesco extra, holding his baby in his jacket to keep her warm, a blanket wrapped around the perfect angel. she hasn’t cried once since he picked her up off the porch. he also decided to forego his mask so he doesn’t end up scaring the tiny thing.

he gets a cart and pushes it with one hand while holding the sleeping kit close. he feels like a giant while holding the babe so close, though he oddly enjoys the feeling of her warmth against him. makes him feel whole.

as he stands in the aisle of baby stuff, overwhelmed with the seems like a thousand types of formula, a nice, pretty worker walks into the aisle. you. with your nice smile and pretty eyes.

“is there anything i can help you with, sir..? oh, who is this??” you beam, captivated by the baby tucked into this tall man’s jacket. she’s so tiny, but she’s a beauty. soft blond tufts of hair, and rosy cheeks that make any cherub pale in comparison.

“er-…she’s my…my daughter…” he doesn’t have a name for her. not yet. he pats her bum, awkwardly staring at you before you hum, nodding,

“she’s very pretty, uh….” you glance up at him, curious of his name.

“simon…simon riley…” he gruffly speaks, though his eyes are uncharacteristically soft. like having such a pure soul tucked against him causes his heart to melt.

“nice to meet you, simon…uh…are you having trouble deciding which kind..?” you point at the wall of formula, he nods with a slight pink tint to his cheeks. you hum, looking around for a moment before bending down to pick up a can of formula.

“this one is the one my sister used for her son, said it worked well for newer babes…” you offer it to him, smiling softly as he nods along. “said it’s…full of iron and supplements the baby needs at this stage. she’s…around a month or two, right?”

he nods, still quite speechless that someone is actually helping him. he looks down to his daughter, finally finding the courage to say what he needs help with.

“u…uhm…yes, i…i need…a lot more than just formula…” he smiles sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck while still holding the tiny thing. “i…don’t have anything for her. bottles, nappies….none of it.”

your eyebrows raise in concern, smiling softly and tilting your head, “uhm…do…do you have a crib? or…or a changing table? let’s start with the basics…”

he sheepishly shakes his head no, smiling gratefully when you just decide to take his cart and walk toward the living section, deciding to get the basics before overwhelming him with detail.

you spend about an hour or two walking him around the store to get supplies, a baby carrier, car seat, changing table, nappies, and allllll the overly expensive things a baby needs.

by the end of the very expensive shopping trip, he put his little one in her new car seat and buckled her up to go home. after he got in the driver’s seat, he pulls out the receipt to check the damage. he winces at the triple digits before his lips curl into a smile. it seems he also got a 11 digit number…